#thank you butches for carrying the world on your shoulders we love you

[sprinkgo]

cant believe i almost missed the most important international holiday (thats my gf not an OC i stg)

[thejollywriter]

The Reformationist

Delilah Jones has done many things to try and help folks. But when she’s approached by the descendant of Irene Adler to try and catch a serial killer no one else wants to hunt, she gets the impression she’d been missing her truest calling. She finds herself apprenticed to the the descendant of one of the cleverest hustlers to ever turn a trick, and hunting a killer without conscience or hesitation. 

It’s a hard day to be Delilah Jones. (Chapter One is below, I hope you enjoy)

***

“You still working security?” I asked Kaye as I approached the front door to Lexi’s. It was an erotic club near the middle of Redwood, a good place for a good time if that’s what you wanted. Lots of talented dancers and performers, lots of beautiful people for most attractions, too.

“Personal security to the boss, but given your shared history, I figured I better be the one to meet you at the door, lest someone else catch your ire.” Kaye said.

She had a sawn-off shotgun in her hands, a strap anchored to the base of the pistol grip. She kept both hands on it, finger off the triggers. Kaye was tall, leggy, skinny, smoked a lot, and had a prickly hair that tended to change color as her moods did. She was also ferociously capable as a fighter, and loyal to boot.

“Way to make me sound unhinged. Like I shouldn’t have good reason to hold a grudge.”

“They do business. That you didn’t catch that isn’t their fault.”

“You weren’t in my bedroom,” I met Kaye’s eyes. “And you don’t get to pass judgment on me from your place of reverence.”

“Leave your piece.”

“Didn’t carry.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”

“I don’t. But if you search me, I won’t react violently.”

“Good. Julian?”

Standing near Kaye was a twink with a mechanized crossbow. He lowered the crossbow to the end of the strap, and approached me. I held my arms out, and his hands moved swiftly over my body.

“No gun.” He said. “But I still feel like she’s armed.”

“Rigged.” I winked at him. “Don’t find out how extensively.”

“Remember your manners,” Kaye said. “I’ll be nearby.”

“Ain’t my manners you gotta worry about.” I said, and walked through the front door.

Light tubes shimmered over the entrance, the gamut of color rotated overhead as I passed through the entryway onto the dance floor.

It sloped, gently, from the front door, urged you down and to the right, towards the stage.

Most nights, it worked.

There was a bar along the left wall, but no one served drinks right now. The lights were on, the dance floor deserted, and cartons of liquor were stacked in the middle of the floor to be distributed to the bars throughout the club.

I found the stairs that led to the upper office, and climbed them. The office looked down on the club through one-way glass. And inside, I found them standing by their desk with their arms crossed.

Andy was a handsome butch, a looker under any circumstance. I’d met them a couple of years ago, when I was but a lowly freelancer and they, I thought, were just a waiter in the club. Dancer, too, and I’d paid for their attention.

Management changed, and rules of contact, and we started to share as much as could be shared with limited time in a rented booth in a strip club.

I loved them, full stop and without compromise. I still couldn’t tell you if they loved me too, or if it was just business.

The cynic’s answer is what I’m leaning towards, these days. It wasn’t always.

“Andy,” I said by way of greeting. I managed not to bark their name, which surprised me. They were tall, strong in the shoulders, with scruffy black hair and bright eyes.

“Delilah,” they stood up straight. “Good to see you.”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“This is--”

“Oh you’re a specimen, aren’t you?” The other lady asked. She was British, built finer’n fine, with strong cheekbones and a mischievous smile and quick eyes that missed nothing. “You’ll do nicely.”

“Irene, this is Delilah Jones. Freelancer.”

“I was told that you’re something of a private detective.” The lady said.

“On occasion.” I said. “Who are you?”

“Delilah, please--”

“You’re a blunt one, aren’t you?” The lady faced me, hands in her slacks pockets. They were black linen, with a sharp crease, she wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a maroon vest.

She was, in fact, stylish, and if I was in a better mood, I’d probably be attracted to her.

“It’s been a day already,” I said. “I was asleep when I got the call, so, that’s put me on the wrong foot.”

“The day’s not likely to get any shorter,” the lady said. “So if you need coffee or liquor, now’s the time to fill up.”

“You know where the bar is,” Andy said, and didn’t look at me.

“I’m good.” I said. “What’s the gig?”

“Not to pivot unexpectedly, but what is the tension?” She looked back and forth between Andy and I. “There’s history, that’s evident for sure, but what was the nature? Base guess is romantic but one can’t always rely on the basest of deductions when you meet people, can you?”

“Certainly not.” I crossed my arms. “It was nothing. What’s the gig?”

“Come now, we love a good story, don’t we, and I’m absolutely dying for clarification--”

“I didn’t stutter,” I said, harder than I needed to. “And if you want my help, you better offer some clarity as to why I’m here.”

“I wanna catch a killer!” She took a few steps towards me. “He is cunning, violent, malicious, and methodical. The FBI called me crazy and said he wasn’t a serial murderer. The LAPD ignored my requests for help, and marked the internal files on the homicides as ‘nhi.’”

“NHI?” Andy asked.

“No human involved,” I said. “It’s what they say when sex workers get killed, or gang members, or homeless folks are involved in a crime. Shorthand so they can write the cases off, and the details don’t make it into the national registry for crime statistics.”

“A disgusting practice,” the lady said. “But one I can’t seem to circumvent with the powers I possess.”

“You still haven’t introduced yourself,” I said. “Andy used a name for you, but is it yours?”

“Hardly mine, it was my great-grandmother’s, but it’s got a certain poetry and I rather enjoy the beauty of poetry, you know?”

“Her name was Irene?”

“It certainly was, and her last name changed as her interests did, but she was known, professionally, as Adler for quite a while.” Irene grinned at me. “You’re not crazy, and yes, that’s my name.”

“Irene goddamn Adler.” I said, and couldn’t hide my awe. “Holy shit. Your ancestor’s exploits are legendary. The work she did in Milan during World War One is still talked about in the circles I’ve moved through.”

“That’d make her intensely happy, it surely would. It was in Milan that she met my great grandmother, the partner who helped her author the generations of Adlers to come.”

“The great Irene Adler was married to a trans woman?” I whispered. “You’re joking.”

“I wouldn’t be so crass.” She was within arm’s reach now and she grinned at me with ruby lips. “Irene was a freelancer, contracted by MI5 to help with weapons smuggling. Her handler was a closeted woman, a Navy Commander, and to say they fell in love at first sight is to understate it. Irene loved her, intensely, and was immensely protective of her wife.”

“I can only imagine. And given the thoroughness with which she hustled that detective, I can imagine the lengths she’d go to protect her wife.”

“Just so.” She offered me her hand. “That marks me Irene, and you Delilah Jones, trans woman and a freelancer of some renown. What say you, Miss Jones? Will you help me catch a killer?”

“I certainly will, Miss Adler.” I grinned, shook her hand.

“Then the first order of business is coffee, while we get up to speed.”

“We have space here,” Andy said.

“No,” I said. “I’ve got a place. Thanks for the call.”

I tried not to savor the look of jealousy on Andy’s face as we walked out.

(End Chapter)

More will be shared on Patreon! Coming Soon!

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[ddaenggtan]

as we go along | myj [m]

pairing | min yoonji x reader

wc | 10.4k

genre | NSFW; Fluff, Smut, a dash of Angst bc why not

Four years ago, the beautiful stunning attractive frustrating Min Yoonji came into your life. Ever since, it’s been a competition between the two of you to win the HOA’s Holiday Decorating Contest. The fiery looks she gives you paired with the pointed insults throw you off your game every year, but not this time. This holiday season, you’re determines to win; and along the way you might just find that Yoonji’s been trying to win something else.

;OR the queer hallmark movie of your dreams.

warnings/tags | idiots to lovers, enemies to lovers, Awkward Gays, Idiot/Oblivious Gays, very strong language i think this MC curses almost as much as i do, oral (female receiving) x2, fingering, wall sex, theres like....a hint of body worship in that MC loves eating pussy bc lbr. what else could possibly compare to that. uhh side jinkook, as well as some side namyoonmin and some vhope if u squint real hard. hwasa and chungha are a lesbian power couple. OH The Min Twins aka Yoongi and Yoonji are siblings uwu

a/n |  this is 100% every single lesbian fantasy of my dreams because i just really love the ladeez and also min yoonji needs more characterization outside of 'stone cold butch domme' so uh. here ya go. i love ladeez so this is v self indulgent and also Super Gay. 

this is part of the 25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Anthology 

[Today]

Red bleeds into green and glitters magnificently on the snow. Lights and tinsel are strewn all over the yard of your parents’ house, creating a rather pretty collage of sparkles and swirls against the white backdrop. You wish you could appreciate it more. 

As it stands, however, you’ve been outside for hours untangling the decorative strands so that you can hang them on the gutters, eaves, and railings of the two story house behind you. Your mother had insisted you work inside but you know better. The cats - Mochi and Pablo - are your favorite in the world and you love them dearly, but one of their favorite things in the world has always been holiday decorations. The number of times you’ve had to stop them from chewing on lights of knocking the tree down is frankly ridiculous. So instead you’re unravelling everything so you can get started on what you’re sure is going to be your best year yet.

You’ve always loved decorating, of course, especially for the holidays. Getting up before dawn to go pick out one of the giant fir trees to stand in their living room, picking out new figurines for the Winter Village that sits on the mantle, helping your parents put ornaments on the tree. You love holiday decorating nearly as much as you love the feeling of victory in your chest. 

“If you had an organizer that wouldn’t take nearly as long,” says a voice from behind you. It’s melodic and deceptively sweet in spite of the lower register, and you don’t turn. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction. You don’t even respond, instead settling your gloved hands on your hips and eyeing the front porch so you can decide where to start. 

“Really? Ignoring me now? Tsk tsk, and here I thought you were better than being a sore loser.”

Continuing on your mission to pretend she isn’t there, you heft several yards of lights over your shoulder and head toward the ladder you have against the porch roof. You may as well start up high. 

“Interesting choice,” Yoonji mutters as she watches you. The hair on the back of your neck bristles, and you take a deep breath to calm and center yourself. “I’d heard that icicle lights were a bit last season, but I’m excited for this vintage look you’re going for. If you need more, let me know. I think the ones I used last year are still in the garage.”

“What do you want, Yoonji?” You huff, turning over your shoulder to glare at her. She looks entirely too at home in your yard with a steaming thermos in her mittened hands. 

“Just wanted to say hi. Wasn’t sure you were coming this year, considering how late you got in.”

“My flight was delayed for weather reasons,” you snap. 

“Ah. That’s why I always drive up instead.” There’s a pregnant pause that’s filled only with the huffs of your breath as you focus on the lights in front of you. “Oh, but you never got your license, did you? Ah, you should call me next year, we can carpool.”

“I got my license this past year,” You bite out. She doesn’t need to know that it took a few tries. It’s not your fault it makes you anxious to be behind the wheel. “Seriously. I have work to do.”

“Obviously,” Yoonji mutters. You flash her a glare and she just smiles back. “Just wanted to see how you were, if you needed any…” She pauses, eyes trailing over the explosion of decorations on your lawn with thinly veiled judgement in her eyes. “Help.”

“If I needed your help, I wouldn’t be winning this year’s contest.”

“By the looks of it, you aren’t winning this year’s contest anyway.” Her mutter doesn’t escape your notice. But that’s the real problem you have with Min Yoonji.

She’s sarcastic and blunt and kind of intimidatingly hot, but you can handle that. You are a strong, independent queer woman in the modern age and you are not about to let some random lesbian intimidate you, no matter how much you kind of wanted to fuck her in the past. Yoonji is not a problem for you. 

It’s the way she’s constantly putting you down, giving you backhanded compliments, and generally acting like she’s better than you. While winning your parents’ neighborhood’s annual Holiday Decorating Contest that their local Homeowner’s Association runs. Everyone gets a kick out of the friendly competition, the winners get a gift certificate to a Korean BBQ place, and a good time is had by all. 

Except you. 

Because you’ve made it your mission to win - to beat the current reigning champion of the past three years who stands on your lawn sipping what smells like hot cocoa and silently judging your decor choices like she didn’t put a massive inflatable pumpkin on the roof for Halloween. 

She watches you the entire time you hang up the lights, carefully attaching them to the edge of the awning covering the front porch. It isn’t until your father pulls into the driveway and you’re done with the upper half completely - about to start the railing - and descending the ladder one careful step at a time that she speaks again. 

“Those are hanging too low,” She tells you. She doesn’t seem to mind when you ignore her in favor of wrapping lights around the stair banister. 

“Hey there, Yoonji!” Your father calls as he starts to unload the groceries. “What brings you to this part of town?” They both laugh at the joke and you force back a gag. 

“Just hanging out,” She calls back. “Making sure your daughter doesn’t break her neck for some silly competition. You need help with those?” Your dad waves her off. 

“I’m not that old, but thank you. Besides, it looks like you’re needed elsewhere.” He gestures with one bag-laden hand, and both you and Yoonji turn. 

A large SUV pulls into the driveway across the street; the passenger door swings open before the vehicle even stops, and a girl - woman, really - launches herself out of the car. She’s across the street in record time, nearly tackling Yoonji to the snow with the force of her hug. Both look excited to see each other, a rare smile on Yoonji’s face that makes you burn with something that doesn’t feel quite like the usual rage. 

The two are talking rapidly in your front lawn, too harried and chaotic for you to make out much of anything besides the fact that they missed each other. They look comfortable with each other in a way you’ve never been and you force yourself to remember that you don’t care . Even as you eye the way the newcomer’s hand sits just that little bit too low on Yoonji’s back. 

The sounds of car doors closing and snow crunching draws your attention and you’re shocked to see another gorgeous girl making her way over. She looks as excited as the first, yet more subdued about it. 

Likely because they’re on a lawn that decidedly does not belong to them, but you could be wrong there. 

Both of the women are absolutely gorgeous, though, easily model material. The first has artfully styled dark hair that falls in perfect waves down her shoulders, and is delightfully curvy in all the places the world loves. Her cheekbones are to die for, makeup flawless, and you resist the urge to pluck at your own outfit, chosen for warmth over style. 

The second woman is no different; not quite as thicc, as Jimin would say, but the figure suits her, as does the straight platinum hair that hangs down to her lower back. It’s stark against the black of her expensive-looking coat, and it only adds to the energy she carries that draws you in even as you wish it wouldn’t. 

“Oh, how rude of me! These are my neighbors,” Yoonji says after a minute. You don’t miss the way she hesitates saying your name, or the almost predatory smiles the other two women get. 

“So you’re the one,” The dark-haired one says. You don’t get a chance to question it before the blonde cuts her off. 

“I’m Chungha,” She says with a friendly smile. “And this is Hyejin.”

“My friends call me Hwasa, though,” The brunette adds. “We hate to tear her away but it’s been ages since we’ve seen our girl.”

“You saw me like two weeks ago,” Yoonji mutters. You’re too caught off-guard by anyone calling Yoonji their ‘girl’ to respond, but you don’t miss the way her cheeks tinge pink from something that isn’t the cold. 

“So we’re gonna steal her away now,” Hwasa continues, oblivious. You don’t protest, letting your father chat amicably while they say their goodbyes and you look between the girls. 

Hwasa’s hand is still lingering on Yoonji’s lower back, something neither of them seem bothered by. That’s something that friends do, though, right? Jimin squeezes your ass constantly and the two of you definitely aren’t together. 

You hear your name and a question but you can’t seem to really focus beyond a mumbled agreement to whatever you were asked. The way Chungha’s eyes glance over her companions feels like something more, but you can never really be sure. Not in this day and age.

But when they head back across the road to Yoonji’s house, Hwasa doesn’t hesitate to lace their fingers together. Yoonji lets her do it, and the glimpse of the grin and the flushed cheeks you see make your heart clench. 

Paired with the way Chungha eyes the pair as she follows behind - a decidedly more than friendly gaze - and every alarm in your brain is going off. She looks ready to jump them both the second they get in the door. 

“I’m impressed,” Your father says. 

“I’m not done yet,” You tell him, turning back to the decorations sprawled across the lawn. “I’ve still got to-”

“No, no,” He interrupts. “Not the decorations. That you’re finally making strides to be nicer to Yoonji.” You stare blankly at him, not understanding what part of your attitude towards her said anything about being nicer. 

And anyway, why shouldn’t she be nicer to you?

“The party…?” You blink at his words, looking in all respects like a startled rabbit. “The annual Min family holiday party? That they just invited you to? The one that you said you would attend?”

“I’m sorry, I did what. ”

“It just happened, sweetheart. I was standing right here for the entire thing.”

“No,” You tell him firmly. “No, because I would remember telling Min fucking Yoonji that I was going to her stupid holiday party.”

Your father just shakes his head. “Then perhaps we ought to get you a doctor’s appointment, sweetie, because I watched it all happen not five seconds ago.” He pats your shoulder, doing his best to show his solidarity for your sudden idiocy, and makes his way inside. 

You spin to watch him go, all the potential protests and complaints clogging together in your throat and leaving you silent. He gets to the bottom step before you’re storming angrily back to your decorations, because whatever , you’ll go to the stupid party. 

Yoonji can have her dumb holiday party with those overhyped cookies your father always raves about. She can have her caroling and her sing-a-long that your mother adores. She can even have her two super hot model girlfriends, because you’re a modern woman, and sometimes that’s what a relationship is. Whatever. It’s her prerogative. You don’t care. It is not going to affect you, or your decorating, at all. 

You scream a little when the icicle lights you so carefully hung knock against your father’s head on his way inside. 

[Three Years Ago]

“You look like you’re struggling,” a voice says behind you. 

They aren’t wrong, either. You’re balanced precariously atop the porch roof your parents’ new hours, hanging garland off the edges so your dad doesn’t have to do it himself. 

You turn to see who’s talking to you - especially since you don’t actually know anyone, this being your first visit to the neighborhood - and very nearly have to hold on to the edge beside you to stop yourself from falling off. 

The man that stands on your parents’ front walkway is easily the most beautiful you’ve seen - a casual elegance to his stance that you’ve not seen outside of celebrities. His leather jacket looks warm and comfortable while remaining stylish, and the all-black underneath suits him while highlighting the lithe form. All of it is perfectly complemented by the mop of jet-black hair tucked under a knitted beanie, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of neighborhood your parents have moved to, when models are just walking around the streets. 

“Uh…” You would kick yourself for sudden ineloquence if you thought you could without falling straight on your ass. The guy bites back and obvious smile, ducking his head for a moment to do so. 

“I haven’t seen you around before,” He calls as he looks back up at you. “Did you move in recently?”

“No, I don’t live here.” He raises a brow and you huff. “It’s my parents’ place. I’m just doing their decorating for them.” The guy nods and starts to say something else, but he’s cut off before he can. 

“Jimin-ah, what are you doing?” You look back to the garland as someone else walks up, some girl based on the quick glimpse you get while tugging on a strand that doesn’t want to untangle. You give them some semblance of privacy as the guy - Jimin - relays to her everything you’ve said so far. It only strikes you as a little odd that he’s being so detailed; she could be a jealous girlfriend, for all you know. 

“Oh,” the girl says, tone as dry as the dead leaves piled in the corner of the yard, “Is this supposed to beat me somehow?”

“Yoonji,” Jimin scolds under his breath. 

“Sorry,” You say, standing up to your full height. It’s a considerable distance considering you’re still on the porch roof. “But what is that supposed to mean? Is there some kind of competition I don’t know about?”

“Oh,” Yoonji repeats, surprise evident in her voice this time as she eyes you. You take the opportunity to do the same, and you’re glad the nip in the air already turned your cheeks pink because fuck. 

Yoonji’s god damn gorgeous. She’s slightly taller than the average girl, even in the winter boots she’s wearing, but she wears the height well; her shoulders are straight and her chin has a natural upward tilt to it, like she’s used to looking down at people in more ways than one. She’s not dressed fancy - just thick leggings and an oversized sweater - but she looks like she belongs in a commercial or something. Her hair is similar to Jimin’s - pitch black and soft - but hers is glossier, more like a cat’s coat; her cheeks are pink from the cold, her lips are slightly parted and invite too many thoughts about if they’re as soft as they look, Even in such casual circumstances, she’s radiant, even as she says-

“That explains a lot.”

It takes a second longer than you’d like to admit for your brain to resume function, but when it does, you huff with indignation. 

“Excuse me?” You hiss. “What, are my decor choices not good enough for whatever this competition is?”

“No,” Yoonji says slowly, cocking a brow, and you see red - and it isn’t the lights from the house across the street. You don’t even let her continue before you’re defending yourself.

“Well I’m sorry that not all of us can decorate like they just stepped out of...of…Better Homes And Gardens, or some shit like that. Some of us focus more on making sure we like our decorations and that they actually mean something instead of just doing things for the aesthetic .”

Yoonji mutters something under her breath but you can’t make it out; it’s lost among the breeze that kicks up and the soft sound of laughing that Jimin is trying desperately to muffle. You huff a little and return to your mission of dragging the garland up on top of the roof, a new determination filling your chest. 

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be doing this?” Yoonji asks, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a brow. You freeze. You can hear Jimin’s quiet inhale, and when you look up, he’s got his lips puffed out like that meme of that guy doing the duckface. You let your hand rest on your hips and give this girl the best glare you can - which you have to admit is quite powerful when you need it to be. 

Like now, when this random super hot girl is judging you for being single and also assuming you’re interested in men. The nerve of her. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” You tell her firmly. She frowns a little, and you wish the expression wasn’t so cute. 

“Why not?” 

You scoff. “ Because,” You tell her firmly, “Not only am I happy by myself and don’t need someone else to be complete, I happen to prefer women. You may be happy with a member of the opposite sex,” You wave at where she and Jimin stand close together and return to trying to pull up the piece of garland that’s probably stuck on something, “But I tend to lean the other way.”

Yoonji just arches a perfect brow at you, but she at least doesn’t bust out laughing like Jimin does. 

“Oh man,” He says, wiping tears from his eyes as he stumbles forward, “Imagine looking at us and thinking we’re straight. Oh my god, imagine, can you believe-”

“So why don’t you have a girlfriend doing this then?” Yoonji asks. Her cheeks are a little redder, but you’re pretty sure it’s just from the cold. “Wouldn’t it be better?”

“Because I’m a strong,” You heave another string of garland up, “Independent,” heave, “Woman!” You give one last tug on the garland and it flies loose, sending you landing back on the flat of your ass atop the porch roof. It doesn’t hurt too bad other than the fact that you can see a smile playing on Yoonji’s lips and your pride has already taken a few hits. 

“Well then,” Yoonji says, patting Jimin’s arm and stepping back, “We’ll stop distracting you, Miss Independent.” She and Jimin walk across the street, and you pretend not to notice the way she looks back every so often. 

[Today]

“No, it needs to be taller.”

“Sweetheart if it’s any taller, it won’t fit in the house.”

You send your mother a frustrated glance and shake your head. “It will, it just needs to be the right height and shape.”

“Why can’t we just get a fake tree? They’re so much easier to move and put together, wouldn’t that be better?”

“No,” You hiss, scandalized. “Real trees are better overall for the environment, not to mention how you can’t manufacture the smell of pine trees that come with them that set the entire atmosphere. Plus this nursery uses the profits to plant more trees both here and in areas that suffer with deforestation. It’s for a good cause.”

“And that’s why we had to get here at five in the morning?” Your mother asks sarcastically. 

“Yes,” You reply firmly, “Because otherwise all the good trees will be gone and we’ll be forced to choose from the leftovers.” Your mother mumbles something else under her breath, but you don’t hear it. You’re distracted because there it is. The perfect tree.

You’re two steps away from your perfect tree - tall, evenly spaced, full branches, well balanced, with the perfect shade of evergreen - when you hear her. 

“It’s over here,” Yoonji’s voice echoes. “I need the perfect tree, and it’s the best one I’ve found in years.”

You ignore the way your mother lights up and shush her when she tries to call out to Yoonji. You listen closer; your nemesis is still talking, something about needing a tree for someone - which, who leaves tree shopping to the last minute? The only reason you’re here is that you got in late because of the weather - but her voice is definitely getting closer. 

Panicking, you look at your tree. If Yoonji sees it, it’s definitely over. It’s perfect, there’s no way she’ll want any other, and what Yoonji wants, she gets. 

The only real explanation for what happens next is that you’re running on four hours’ sleep and Yoonji tends to make you a little stupid. 

“Get the other side,” You whisper to your mom. She stares at you and doesn’t move. “Hurry up, before they get here!”

Your mother watches for a few seconds as you wrap your arms around the tree, getting pricked in the face with pine needles as you do, and start to tug. It’s a heavy tree, and it’s only just started to shift when the voices get closer. 

“Seriously?!” You exclaim in a harried whisper to your mom. “Not even a push?!”

“You’re trying to steal a tree,” Your mother says. “From a nursery that gives to charity. I’m not helping with that.”

“I’m gonna pay for it later!” Your mother sighs and starts pushing halfheartedly on the other side of the tree.   

“Shit, no, I meant-” Your words are cut off by a grunt as you manage to catch the tree before it falls entirely. It’s heavy against your shoulder, and of course that’s when Yoonji turns the corner, followed by the broadest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. Both stop in their tracks at the sight of you. 

“Hey Seokjin.” You say, faking a laugh. “How are you? Haven’t seen you this year. Business good?”

“Yeah,” He says, cocking a brow, “When people don’t try to run off with our trees.”

“Who? Me? I would never!” The tree starts digging into your shoulder and your legs tremble. “I just thought I’d load it up for you, y’know, save you the trouble.”

“Oh did you?” There’s amusement in Seokjin’s voice as he fiddles with his ring. “You know our policy, you have to pay before loading.”

You start to stammer out some bullshit about him being busy but you’re only halfway through the excuse when Yoonji says your name.

“It’s alright,” the woman says with a bored voice. “She was loading it up for me. That’s the tree I was coming to show you anyway.”

The weight finally overtakes you, and you crumble under it. You manage to twist so that nothing important is trapped under the trunk, but you get a faceful of needles for your efforts. 

“Maybe you should do it, though, Jin,” Yoonji says. “It looks a little much for the poor dear.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin huffs. He pulls the tree off of you with what looks like little effort, hefting it over his shoulder so the base drags the ground. “Where are you parked, Yoonji?”

“Load it onto their car,” Yoonji responds. Both you and your mother stare at her in shock. “Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“Oh, well isn’t that sweet of you,” Your mother coos. She points the way to Seokjin and the two head off, chatting amicably as they go. 

You narrow your eyes at Yoonji where she stands, not even offering to help you up from the snow where you still lay.

“What’s wrong with it?” You ask. All she does is quirk a brow. “The tree. Why are you giving it to me? You wouldn’t unless there was something wrong with it. So what is it? Termites? Leaking too much sap? What?”

Yoonji shrugs. “You wanted it,” She says simply. Your blood boils, and she steps back like she doesn’t even notice. 

“You aren’t even going to help me up?” You call as she starts to walk away.

“Good try, Miss Independent,” She calls back. “I think Jungkook’s still in the office if you need him.”

You half-scream a growl as you flop your head back into the snow. A pout forms as you watch the sky start to color with the sunrise. 

You’re going to have to throw away your perfect tree.

[Two Years Ago]

It’s the day of the contest. You’re confident in your decor choices this year, even if you couldn’t get every single thing you had in mind, you decide as you wander the neighborhood to scope out the competition. Last year you went simple and got second place, and you’ve switched it up this year. All out with the best decorations possible. 

You’re going to win. Losing isn’t an option, not again. Not when you were beat by her. 

It doesn’t matter, you remind yourself as you turn the corner onto your parents’ street. Your decorations are as good as they can be. 

Your mood sours a little when you see a figure in the yard across from yours, but the soft beanie and oversized hoodie cheer you up once you notice them. 

“Yoongi!” You call with a smile. The man turns and gives you a gummy grin. “I didn’t know you were in town!”

“Yeah, we got in late last night. Kinda crashed once we did. Then someone dragged us all out to the store early this morning.” He rolls his eyes and you laugh. 

“Well the house looks good. Not as good as mine, obviously,” You tease, “But good.”

“Yeah, you might win this year. Yoonji’s got some good competition.”

You sniffle a little, doing your best to contain your distaste for his twin. 

The Min twins, nearly identical save for the fact that they aren’t the same gender, are easily the best and worst things about the neighborhood. Worst because of that pompous priss Yoonji, obviously. 

Best because Min Yoongi is one of the sweetest people you’ve ever known even if he is a bit shy. You met him last year, when he’d carried in an obscene amount of groceries for your mother and you’d almost mistaken him for his sister. You’d made him coffee to say thanks, the two of you talked, and you’ve been friends ever since. 

“No Jimin?” You ask him. He gestures vaguely to the roof, where you can see a small blue hat bopping around. “Ah. I take it you aren’t finished yet, then.”

“Do you know any other reason my sister would have my boyfriend on the roof?” You share a grin with him as you both watch a strand of lights fly off somewhere. “Apparently she needed to make some last minute adjustments. That’s why she dragged us all out to the store, to hunt down some stuff for her.”

“Oh, did you happen to see one of those big dancing snowmen? The one that plays music, you can control it all from your phone? I looked everywhere and couldn’t find one, it’s the one thing I was missing. Had to use an inflatable yeti instead.” Yoongi frowns. 

“Huh, how weird. That’s what we were-”

“I got it all ready, it just needs to be plugged in.”

Yoonji strides out from the house - looking as good as ever in some plaid pants, how dare she - and stops dead when she looks up and sees you. 

“What are you doing here?” She snaps, and you scoff. 

“Visiting a friend,” You respond with a nod towards Yoongi. You take a glance at the phone in her hand, then up to where you can see Jimin standing up a snowman. “Did you seriously steal my idea?!”

“What? No.”

“Really. Because I distinctly remember telling Jungkook about this yesterday while I was picking up my tree and you were right beside him talking to Seokjin. I was even going to put it on the roof so everyone could watch it dance to Pentatonix covers.”

“Like I would listen when you talk,” Yoonji says. Yoongi sighs but you can barely hear it over the flood of rage. 

“Y’know what? Get fucked,” You tell her as you storm out of their yard and back to your parents’ house. 

“I guess you won’t be coming to the holiday party then?” She calls over the road. You send her a rather vulgar hand gesture in return that you hope your parents don’t see. By the time you get inside, the snowman is playing a Mariah Carey Christmas song and you kind of want to set it on fire. 

You do not win the competition that year. 

[Today]

Maybe you should have listened to your parents when they said not to drive today. Probably you should have taken the big ass truck that your father keeps in the garage specifically for when the weather is bad, because it’s got that fancy four wheel drive and traction control and all sorts of stuff meant to keep people safe in the middle of floods and monsoons and blizzards. You definitely should have remembered to charge your phone before you left the house.

Especially considering that your car isn’t great in the snow now falling gently from the sky to land on your hood, mixing with the smoke pouring out from under it. 

You’re lucky you managed to drift to the side of the road and get your hazard lights on, but that’s where said luck runs out. Your phone is dead, it’s several miles back to the house, even further than that to town, and the temperature is already dropping into dangerous territory. 

You’ve been sitting here for three hours, though, tucked inside the residual warmth of your car with spare blankets wrapped around you as you watched night fall. You’re not sure what else you can do. There aren’t any wild animals around here, or anything like that, but it’s definitely too dangerous to trek back to the house. 

“I should’ve just walked back earlier,” You groan as you bundle the blankets closer. “At least it was warmer then. Stupid car, stupid car, stupid me , didn’t charge your stupid phone, how dumb am I.”

Your tirade against yourself continues for several minutes and includes a few very crafty curses that would make your mother gasp. You’re in the middle of another when lights shine into your mirrors, nearly blinding you. 

The lights slow and come to a stop behind your car. A door shuts and you scramble to exit, ready to get on your knees and beg whoever it is to give you a ride to literally anywhere that has heat. 

It takes a second too long for you recognize the shiny purple jeep and the elegant black peacoat backlit by the headlights, and by the time you do, she’s already got an angry snarl on her face. 

“What the fuck are you doing out here?” She demands. You shiver in response and glare at her. 

“Oh, just hanging out, thought I’d take a little nap beside the road in the freezing cold, the usual y’know,” You bite back. She rolls her eyes and starts back towards her jeep. You frown, watching her, and she stops with one foot inside and her hand on the door. 

“What are you waiting for?” She asks. You shrug, and she huffs. “Get in the fucking car, I’m taking you home before you turn into an icicle.” You don’t move and her frown deepens. “Fine, but if you die out here, I’m not the one that’s going to tell your parents it was because you were too stubborn to accept a ride.”

Guilt gnaws at you, and with a frustrated huff, you stomp your way over to the passenger side of her jeep and climb inside. 

She’s careful as she drives, you notice. Long fingers wrapped tight around the wheel, jaw tensed so hard it could be stone, and one arm leaned against the window after she’s finished turning the heat up as high it will go. 

It’s not even been five minutes when she tosses a thick, fleece-lined blanket at you. You look at her, ready to be pissed off, and she cuts you off before you can complain. 

“Your teeth are chattering so loud that I can’t hear myself think. Try not to get hypothermia before we get there, okay?” You huff a disbelieving laugh but curl into the warmth of the blanket anyway. It feels almost too-warm, like when you pull clothes out of the dryer, but it’s a comfort against your freezing skin. 

“Why are you even here? You aren’t heading back from town, you’re not heading to town. Do you just drive around looking for lost girls?” 

“No,” She says carefully, hand tightening around the wheel. It’s all she says for a full minute before she sighs. “Your parents got worried.”

“What?! ”

“They said you went to town to pick up some salt for the sidewalk and drive, and that it had been hours, and that they hadn’t heard from you again even though you took your phone. They were scared that something had happened, so I…”

Your sarcastic response dies on your tongue when you look at her. Really look. 

Her shoulders are tense and set, in a way you haven’t seen before. Her brows are creased, and the pretty lips you refuse to acknowledge are set in a thin line and turned down at the corners. There’s something fizzling in the air between the two of you, something new and unknown.

“...Were you worried about me?” You ask quietly. She shoots you a look and then laughs, a second too late with not enough amusement. 

“Drink that,” She says, gesturing to a thermos. “It’s coffee, it’ll help you warm up a little.” You take the thermos, thoroughly enjoying the warmth it provides your hands, and take a sip. You don’t know why, but you’re surprised when it’s the exact way you like it. You shoot her a thoughtful look, wondering just how else she might surprise you. 

The rest of the ride is quiet, only the lull of the engine and the tires. Neither of you talk much; perhaps because she’s too angry, but you’re too distracted by your own thoughts to say much. 

There’s no way, right? The two of you hate each other, you have since you met. It tints all your interactions, colors every single conversation where either of you are even mentioned, it’s one of the basic facts of the universe. 

So why, as Yoonji pulls into your parent’s driveway and smiles at where they stand watching from the window, do you have a feeling like maybe you’re wrong?

[One Year Ago]

“Really? Inflatables?”

You scowl and turn, already prepared. There stands Yoonji, arms crossed. The weather is fairly mild for the season, and she’s taking advantage of that. High waisted shorts, an off-the-shoulder top, lace-up boots, leather jacket, she looks like every rebellious lesbian you’ve ever dreamt about, and it only makes you hate her more. 

“Yes, inflatables. Because some of us like a little fun. Besides, you stole my dancing snowman last year, and I wanted something you aren’t going to rip off.”

“I didn’t steal your-”

“Whatever,” You interrupt, not wanting to even bother to listen. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

She starts to say something else, but the slam of the front door cuts her off. You turn and grin, waving. 

“Tae! C’mon, put it over here!” 

Taehyung smiles and makes his way over, inflatable deer in his hands. Yoonji’s silent as he gets there and sets the animal where you direct. When he’s finished he turns to you, boxy smile and all, to make sure he’s good, and glances at Yoonji. 

“Oh, you didn’t say you had a friend over,” He whines. “Now I’m being rude. Hi, I’m Kim Taehyung.”

Yoonji doesn’t answer, merely eyes with distaste the hand he’s got extended. 

“Right. Well then, I’m gonna go get the fawn, alright? Be right back.” He smiles at you, and you watch as he jogs back into the house.

“I thought you only brought Namjoon with you this year.” You turn at Yoonji’s words. 

“No, Tae came as well. It’s a good thing, too, because Joon is utterly useless now since he met Yoongi and Jimin. Little punks stole my best friend.” You’re only mostly kidding. You’re happy for Namjoon - he’s been somewhat lonely these days, and now he’s got not one but two handsome men vying for his affection. 

It does reinforce your own loneliness, though. 

“I thought you liked girls.” You look back at Yoonji and notice she’s got a small pout on her face. It’s cute. 

“I do like girls.”

“Then why is Taehyung here?” The way she says his name is full of spite, and it makes you laugh. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that I had to get your permission when I want to bring my friends and loved ones up to visit my parents for the holidays.” You adjust the inflatable deer, posing it so that it looks like it’s glaring at Yoonji’s house in anger. 

Taehyung comes back out before Yoonji can say anything. He’s got his jacket off now, and he does look good in the simple white shirt and the headband that makes his hair look even fluffier than usual. You just really can’t focus on anything but the inflatable fawn he’s got tucked under one arm and the matching rabbit tucked under the other. 

Yoonji’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, and you roll your eyes. 

“You need another deer,” She spits before she turns around and stomps back to her house. Taehyung shoots you a look. 

“I take it that’s Yoonji, then,” He says with a laugh. You make a puking sound and he tuts at you. “You’re supposed to be nice. That is not nice.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t steal your dancing snowman, did she?”

Across the street, you can see Yoonji fuming as she stands on the porch, talking to Yoongi about something or other. They both look over and while your first instinct is to turn around like you haven’t been watching them, you resist. Instead, you give Yoongi a bright wave. He doesn’t return it but his frown lessens slightly, though that could be because Jimin stumbles, laughing, out of your parents’ house with Namjoon not far behind him. 

Both of them have hearts in their eyes, and it only gets worse when they look at Yoongi. 

“That’s disgusting,” Taehyung says with a wrinkle of his nose. “Eugh, they’re so couple-y and gross. Remind me not to come next year if Namjoon’s here.”

“Oh no,” You tell him with a grin as you wrap him in a hug. He’s warm and solid against you, as he always is, and you thoroughly enjoy it. “If I have to struggle, you do too.”

“Fine,” He whines dramatically. “But I’m bringing Hobi so he has to suffer, too.” You laugh and set him to work organizing the inflatable animals. There are eyes on your back the entire time, but you refuse to turn around and give Yoonji the satisfaction. 

Especially once you realize that you do need another deer to make it look balanced and perfect.

[Today]

The holiday party is well underway by the time you arrive at Yoonji’s, however reluctantly you do so. Your mother and father disappear almost immediately, sucked into conversations with people they’ve known for years now; Tae and Hobi are tucked into a corner, nursing glasses of cider while they look at the rather extensive Winter Village display on the Mins mantle; Namjoon has been here for hours already, and is no doubt locked away in Yoongi’s room with the man himself, and Jimin, and you choose to believe that they’re having some philosophical discussion and not doing anything else. 

You think you catch a glimpse of Jungkook amidst the people from the neighborhood, but by the time you get to where he was, there’s no sign of him, or the broad-shouldered man he’s usually with. Abandoned in the kitchen, you pour yourself some cider and spike it with a hint of rum, just to get you through the night. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” A voice says. 

When you turn, you find Hwasa perched on the countertop, Chungha leaning back between her legs. Both are watching you curiously, and both look absolutely fantastic in figure-hugging dresses and tights and heeled boots. They look like they just stepped off a runway, but the look in their eyes feels more like a panther than a model. 

“What boyfriend?” You ask eventually. 

“Tall, great chest, soft hair,” Hwasa says. When you just stare at her, she smiles a little. “Boxy smile.”

“Oh, Tae?” You laugh a little. “He isn’t my boyfriend. I’m not even interested in him like that, he’s just my best friend.” The two women share a look and Chungha kisses her cheek before heading out of the room. Hwasa eyes you and you have the distinct feeling you’re being judged. 

You thought you looked okay when you picked out the simple but nicer outfit; black sweater, maroon skirt, tall black boots. It’s classy but casual. You’re sure of it. 

At least you were. 

“So tell me about this thing with Yoonji,” Hwasa eventually says. You nearly choke on your cider. 

“I mean...there’s not much to tell. We’ve hated each other ever since we met four years ago.”

“Oh?” Something lights up in her eyes that you don’t particularly like. 

“Look, no offense to you or your girlfriend, Yoonji’s just...kinda mean for my tastes. I guess some people are into that.”

“Elaborate.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, and you find yourself explaining before you can stop. You tell her nearly everything, about all the shit Yoonji’s done to you, and by the time you’re finished, she’s actually smiling.

“Like...I’m sure you love her and all, otherwise you wouldn’t be dating her, but-”

“What? ” She nearly falls off the counter, she’s laughing so hard, and when you start to help steady her, she just waves you off. “No, sweetie, I’m dating Chungha, not Yoonji.”

“I thought you were dating both of them? Did you all break up?”

“Oh my god , she wasn’t kidding,” Hwasa says breathlessly, still fighting back giggles. “Holy shit, this explains so much. Ha, oh my god, no, we never were dating Yoonji, she’s just our best friend. Like you and that Taehyung guy?”

“Oh.” You feel foolish; it makes sense, friends can be just as physically close as romantic partners. You and Taehyung are proof enough of that. “I...just assumed…”

“I know, but you’re definitely wrong. You drink more cider, stew on that, maybe rethink things from another perspective, I’ve got to tell Chungha about this, it’s too good.” Hwasa hops off the counter with ease and disappears out the door before you can ask her to explain what she means about other perspectives. You can hear giggles as they slowly drown in the chatter of the party and the soft carols playing over the speakers. 

You stay in the kitchen for a while, nursing your cider and thinking. If Yoonji doesn’t have two model-hot girlfriends, then could you have been onto something in the jeep that night? You’ve hated her for so long, and assumed that she hates you in return, but if you were wrong about the girlfriends, then maybe you’re wrong about that, too. 

Something enters your vision and you look up, nearly spitting out your drink as you do. 

Yoonji stands in front of you, in a slinky green velvet dress that she keeps tugging the bottom of. It doesn’t look like anything she usually wears, down to the floral lace tights and the wedge heels that make her even taller than she already is, and she looks slightly uncomfortable if the burn in her cheeks is any indication. 

The worst part is that she looks good. Like, good good. It suits her, even if it isn’t her usual style, and for once you can’t deny the attraction swirling within your stomach. 

“What are you wearing?” She asks angrily, glaring down at your clothes like they kicked her dog - whom you have not seen tonight, which is a travesty, because you adore Holly. A cough echoes from somewhere behind the two of you, and Yoonji wrinkles her nose. “I mean...I like...your outfit.”

You quirk a brow at her and set your cider down on the counter nearby. “Really? Because it looks like you want to tear it off and then set it on fire.” Something complicated happens with her expression and a spark ignites in your mind. 

“Are you sick?” She asks. Her face does something else complicated as a groan echoes from nearby, and something painful twists in your stomach. You really didn’t think you looked that bad. “I mean, after the other day. With the snow. And the cold. Are you sick?”

“Is...this your way of telling me I look ill?” You ask her. She frowns. “Because if wanted me to leave your party, all you had to do was say that, you don’t have to insult me.” You head toward the door of the kitchen and there’s a scrambling that sounds much too loud for just her friends. 

So your friends are also eavesdropping. Fantastic. Now everyone knows she’s insulted you. Just what you needed tonight. 

Her hand catches your wrist as you’re about to leave the kitchen. “I didn’t mean it like that,” She mumbles, not making eye contact. “I just...wanted to make sure you were feeling okay. It was really cold that night, and you were out there for a long time.” 

“So, what, you suddenly care? Why? Because you don’t want to win by default or something?”

“No, because I-” She cuts herself off with a groan, and you’re glad there are so many people around, because it seems like everyone’s distracted with something else. They’re too busy to notice this absolutely disastrous conversation. 

“Hey look,” Taehyung says, appearing from nowhere and pulling roughly on Yoonji’s arm until she’s standing beside you in the doorway. “Mistletoe! How random! Guess you have to kiss!”

“That’s a stupid tradition,” Yoonji spits, and you’re inclined to agree with her. “Forcing people to kiss just because of some plant? How is that okay? Besides, it’s got nothing to do with the actual myth behind it, and-” She sounds like she could go on forever, but you cut her off. 

“And it’s not like we want to kiss anyway.” Her grip on your wrist slackens, and you turn to look at her. Uncertainty fills you as you look at her expression, because the only word that comes to mind is crestfallen. “Right?”

“I...I mean…” Taehyung disappears as Yoonji searches for words, and you just know he’s hanging out somewhere nearby to watch it all happen. 

“Because we’re nemeses.” You say slowly. “We hate each other.”

“Do we?” Yoonji asks quietly, threading her fingers through yours. “Do you?”

“Don’t you? ” You ask her. “You’ve been nothing but rude to me since we met. You’ve insulted me, and stolen my decorating ideas, and-”

“No,” She says quickly. “No, I never meant any of it like that, you just never gave me a chance to explain. You’re...you’re so pretty, and I always get flustered around pretty people, and I say the wrong things.”

“You told me I wasn’t as good if I didn’t have a significant other the first time we met.”

“I was trying to figure out if you were interested in women, and when you said you were, I just...panicked, because I figured you had someone, because you’re…” She gives a wave to your general being. 

“You stole my dancing snowman.”

“I did not! I heard someone talking about a dancing snowman at the tree nursery, and I didn’t realize it was you, and I thought, since I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I’d get a dancing snowman that would play this cheesy playlist thing I made for you. I didn’t know you were looking for it, and I didn’t steal your idea. Not on purpose, anyway.”

“Okay, well...last year you were so rude! And you said you wouldn’t listen when I talked!”

“I thought…” She trails off, looking ashamed. “I thought you were dating Taehyung, and I got jealous. But the listening comment wasn’t like that! It’s because I always zone out because I like to listen to you talk, because your voice is so pretty, but I never hear what you actually say, and also you just...are really pretty. So I get distracted.”

“I…” You’re rather speechless; your entire world has shifted on its axis. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never.” Yoonji insists. “I just don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”

“You hang out with Hwasa. And Chungha.”

“Yeah, and?” Her brows furrow. “What’s your point?” If you could, you would keysmash at her, but as it stands, you just gape. 

“Uh, they’re literally model gorgeous?”

“Oh, are they?” She looks down at where your fingers are still entwined with hers. “I hadn’t noticed.”

You blink at her, and she looks up at you. There’s a faint smile playing on her lips, and something bright in her eyes that you haven’t seen before. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, shaking your head. “I just still don’t-”

“Will you shut up?” Yoonji asks, free hand coming to gently glide across your cheek. “And let me kiss you?” Your jaw shuts with a snap and you nod. 

Her lips are soft against your own, and your breath catches in your throat as you return the kiss. Her hand moves to grip your jaw, tilting your head ever so slightly so the two of you fit together that little bit better, and your hands come to rest on her hips. 

Electricity sparks through you to her. She pulls back just a little and you’re distracted by the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips. 

“This might be moving a little fast, since we hated each other an hour ago-”

“You hated me an hour ago,” She corrects. 

“But I would be very, very happy taking this to a more private area so I can express to you just how apologetic I am that I thought you hated me.” You tear your gaze from her lips to look at her face. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown out at the mere thought. 

“Upstairs,” She growls, already pushing you in the direction of the staircase. You’re both speeding through the crowd of people as fast as you can without being obvious, and you have to help her every few feet because she’s wobbly in her heels, but by the time you make it up the stairs and into her room, you’re both desperate. 

Her mouth meets yours with a fire behind it that you’ve never felt before, and you hardly even get the door closed before she pushes you back against it. Your tongue darts along the seam of her lips and she grants you entrance, and you could moan at just the taste of her if you were just a little weaker. 

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?” She whispers, moving to nip at your neck. Her hands are under your sweater and you don’t even remember them getting there, but you can’t complain as they move to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples through your bra. “Can you even imagine how many times I’ve dreamt of touching you? Tasting you? Hearing you moan?” 

She bites, hard and rough, and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you. How she possibly knows that you like that is something you don’t have the energy to ponder, nor the will to question. 

“Please,” You breathe, hands tangling in her hair as she sucks a mark into the skin of your throat. She’s slotted between your thighs and your hips are rutting against hers ever so slightly, desperate for some friction. You know you’ve already soaked through your panties, which is a feat considering all she’s done is play with your nipples a little and kiss you like you’ve never been kissed. 

“What is it, angel?” Her voice is deeper than usual, roughened by the desire coursing through your veins and hers, and it only makes you wetter. “What would you like me to do?”

“Anything,” You plead. “Please, just touch me.” 

“Anything?” Yoonji mutters. She chuckles, low and raspy and so unbearably attractive that you want to scream. You almost do scream, from frustration, when she pulls her hands away from your nipples, but she drops to her knees and you forgive her. 

Yoonji kisses up your thighs, from the edge of your boots all the way to where the hem of your skirt hits mid-thigh, and her hands are warm as they slide underneath. She doesn’t stop kissing you, not even as she lifts the fabric of your skirt and nips at the crease where your thighs meet your hips. Still, she’s so far away from where you need her, that you can’t help your whine. 

“Patience, angel,” She whispers as she glides one finger along your fabric-covered lips. Your hips rut forward on instinct, and she laughs a little. 

“You stole my dancing snowman, you could at least be quick about this,” You mutter. 

“What’s the fun in being rushed?” She leans forward to mouth at your pussy through your underwear and your legs tremble slightly. She’s gentle as her hands slide your underwear down to pool around your ankles, and even more gentle as they glide back up to rest on your thighs. “But I’ll be nice this time. Besides, I’ve been dreaming of what this pussy tastes like for years.”

Anything else you might say to her is cut off with a moan as her tongue starts to tease at your clit. One of your hands comes to rest on the back of her hair before you even realize you’ve moved, and she takes that as all the encouragement she needs. 

Yoonji eats pussy like it’s the last meal she’ll ever have, and you’re in absolute awe. The way her tongue moves against you is absolute bliss, no matter where it is; she teases at your entrance, sliding the very tip of her tongue inside to gather your wetness before she runs the flat of it up to your clit, where she circles and sucks mercilessly before moving back down to thrust it in and out and in and out relentlessly. She coaxes an orgasm out of you faster than anyone else ever has, and even as your writhing against the door with her head under your skirt, she doesn’t stop. 

Instead, she slides one long finger inside of you and keeps it there. She doesn’t move it, doesn’t even allow it to twitch, but it’s there and you can feel it as she wraps her lips around your clit and sucks, making your clench around her. She moans into your pussy, too, the entire time she’s at work between your legs, and it only turns you on more when you glance down to see her hand between her legs. 

“Yoonji, please, I want, please, I wanna taste you too, please,” You beg, tugging gently on her hair until she pulls back. Her chin is covered in your cum and the sight is so unbelievably unerotic that you could probably come just from that. 

“Take this off,” She growls, pulling on your skirt as she stands. You do as she says without hesitation, more than willing to get naked if it means getting your mouth on her, and by the time your boots are in the corner with the rest of your clothes, she’s just as naked as you are. 

And god, she’s beautiful. 

Your lips meet hers again as you push her towards the bed, and you can taste yourself on her tongue as it slides against yours. The two of you tumble onto the mattress and you situate yourself between her thighs. It isn’t until you’ve got her legs spread wide and your licking and sucking at her nipples that you register that her face is flushed with something new. 

“What is it?” You ask, panting, as you detach from her - beautiful, wonderful, adorable, perfect - tits. “Do you not want me to? I don’t have to, I just would really like to, it’s up to you.”

“No, it’s not that, I’ve just never…” She trails off, looking embarrassed, and realization smacks you in the face. 

“No one has ever gone down on you before?” You ask in disbelief. She shakes her head. 

“I’ve always been the one to do so, all the other girls have been kind of...well. I’m usually the dominant one, so…”

“Yoonji, sweetheart,” You say seriously, pressing a kiss to her cheek with each word. “Will you allow to me to eat you out? Because seriously, those other girls are trash, and I would absolutely cherish the experience if it’s something you want.”

Her face turns even more pink and she nods. You press a quick kiss to her lips and gently spread her thighs so you have better access. You mimic her actions from earlier, pressing kisses to her thighs and the crease of her hips. When you finally get a taste of her, you moan. 

She tastes like absolute fucking bliss, you decide as you glide your tongue through her folds. You could live off of nothing but the taste for her until the end of time itself, and the way she moves is amazing. Little jerks and thrusts, and her fingers tangle in your hair to push you closer even as her hips pull away slightly. 

Your tongue rubs circles around her clit, flicking and licking and coaxing her closer and closer to her high. You dip down to fuck your tongue into her for a second or two, and the way her back arches is art in motion. You reach one hand up to tweak one of her nipples while your other arm remains wrapped around her hip like a steel bar, keeping her in place even as she grinds against your mouth. 

You remember how it felt earlier when she wrapped her lips around your clit, so you mimic the action. Her bud fits perfectly between your lips, and when you suck on it, she tenses. Everything stops for a second, and you’re afraid maybe you ruined it, but then her whole body jerks, and she presses you hard against her. You lap up her essence as it comes, eager and more than willing, and when she finally stops spasming, you pull yourself away with a grin. 

“Holy shit,” She mutters, and you laugh. 

“I can’t believe no one’s ever eaten you out before,” You sigh, one hand sliding along her waist to massage her breasts. “Does that mean no one’s ever fucked you before either?”

“I mean…” You stop, staring at her with wide eyes. “I told you, I’m usually the dominant one, so most people don’t really...return the favor.”

“Can I please fuck you?” You ask in a rush. “Please, I promise I’ll be gentle.” She huffs a little, and you think it’s amused but you can’t be sure, because she’s spreading her legs again and your focus is elsewhere. 

“Yeah, angel, you can fuck me.”

You lower yourself to kiss her, lingering and deep, and you don’t miss the moan she gives as she tastes herself on your tongue. You wait until she’s thoroughly distracted by the way your mouths move, then glide your fingers over her. 

Her clit is still sensitive, based on the way she jumps as you ghost your fingers over it, so you avoid that. You don’t want to overwhelm her. She groans as you slide a single single finger inside her, and you moan. 

Her walls are softer than the velvet of her dress, and warm around you. She’s tight, too, so incredibly tight that you aren’t sure you’ll be able to fit another inside her. She moans as you slide your finger out and then back in, gathering more of her wetness as you do. 

You’re careful as you fuck her, gentle and slow, and you think you could get addicted to it. Her hips move in time with your hand, gaining speed as you do. “Fuck, angel, it’s so good,” She whimpers. You smile. 

“Let me know if it gets too much, okay?” She nods, and you start to slide a second finger in. Yoonji winces, just a little, so you slow until her hips rock against your hand. 

“More,” She breathes. “Please, more.”

“As you wish,” You tell her. You still are gentle as you thrust into her, feeling her walls contract around you. It’s heaven, absolute perfection, and you tell her so as she grips onto the sheets. 

You latch your mouth onto her nipple as you continue fucking her, biting and sucking as your fingers curl. 

“I need, ah, please, I need more, I need, holy fuck, to come, I need to come,” She moans desperately. You grin and curl your fingers more, sliding them against her walls. You finally find what you’re looking for, that small spongey spot that has her convulsing around you. 

“That’s right, baby,” You coo, “Come on, I know you want to.”

Her hands are in a death grip on your shoulders, and they only get tighter as you press harder against that spot inside her. She comes with a cry that you muffle with your own mouth, her body shaking as she lets go. 

You slide your fingers out when she’s relaxed a little more, licking the taste of her off as she pants. 

“Holy shit,” She breathes. You grin, peppering kisses along her stomach, up her chest, along her throat and over her cheeks. “Can we do that every day?”

“I dunno,” You tease. “Are you going to steal my dancing snowman again?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves at your shoulder, and you laugh. 

“I’m just saying, you’re supposed to be nice to the people you like.”

“I’m bad at that, though,” She mutters. “I always just...say the wrong thing. I’m more of a do-er.”

“I’m still caught up on how I was supposed to know you liked me based on the things you did.”

“Really?” She huffs, glaring at you playfully. “I went tree shopping at five in the morning for you.”

“Yeah,” You say softly, grinning. “You did.”

25 Days of Christmas: A BTS Christmas Anthology 

[the-mandalorian-clone-lover]

Aces in Spaces Chapter 11

Monday again! 

Erica has come over to Roman’s to get ready for dinner, he’s fawning over her, dinner is a little ridiculous, Butcher is a hero, and Roman gets to be a sap again (but more because it’s just been their 7th month anniversary and man can’t help himself)

Tags: @sunshinepascal​ @rentskenobi​ @princessxkenobi​ @agent-450​ @maybege​ @obaby-wan​

Reference photo’s are below again (apologies for terrible quality Obi-Wan (my laptop) was being stinky today), enjoy guys :)

Masterlist

(this is literally the only picture I could find of Ewan in purple so Just imagine he has a black button down instead of the striped shirt)

Roman pulled Erica close before lifting her slightly to sit on the counter, her floor length long sleeve wrap dress is a deep velvet purple, the neckline shy of plunging and the wrap of the skirt giving her a knee-high slit. He is dressed to match her, purple suit accented by the black button up that hides behind his blazer, black sunglasses accompanying the grey pocket scarf that ties in with the sandals he’s carrying for her. Flat footed she stood about an inch taller than he, but he always relished the height difference (as was evidenced by the four-inch heels he was now buckling onto her feet). As he fastened them Erica smiled softly and began brushing her fingers through his auburn hair, he was always tender with her and she couldn’t begin to thank him enough. As if he knew her thoughts, he spoke softly into the room.

“I was thinking we could finish painting the purple and grey in the studio this week. Like your flag.” It was his six-month anniversary present to her, he knows she loves training with her weapons of choice still (even if she has her own guard team now) and he wanted her to have her own space. If that keeps her out of the community training area, that’s just an extra bonus.

The soft smile on her face grows fond, “does the great Roman Stanton have time to watch paint dry?” it’s said almost teasingly.

“With the love of his life?” His eyes meet hers as the endearment passes his lips “there’s nothing I’d rather do.” It is said so matter-of-factly that a full smile breaks across her face.

“People might talk, finding out this isn’t for sex”

“You know,” he begins and his face is full of an exasperation that shows just how many times he’s had the conversation, as his hands find her waist and he stands between her legs, “You can love someone, without having sex.”

She laughs a little at this, albeit softly, and cradles his face in her hands. “My Roman” she brings their foreheads together and for a moment they breathe one another in, basking in the stillness. It’s soft, undeniably so, only interrupted by the furrowing of Roman’s brow.

“Did someone say something?” He pulls back before continuing, hands finding her shoulders as hers slip to his chest. “It’s been a moment since I told the last batch you were asexual; do you want me to mention it?” Despite the calmness his tone brings her, Erica knows ‘mentioning it’ will involve more than just talking (and it certainly won’t be done in passing, her mind briefly pulls up the memory of the time Roman made a 47 page slideshow for Butch about what being Ace meant, how dragons were the mascot, and how that pertained to him. As the main bodyguard for them both Butch had appreciated the education, contrary to what his immense size and intimidating presence suggested he was truly kind). Her smile broadens again, “No, I’m just teasing you, I’d love to finish the studio”.

Romans face splits with a grin that Erica is convinced rivals sunshine with its warmth and brings his hand up to suspend itself by the side of her face. She’s always loved this about him; he never falters at asking before he touches her, some days she doesn’t need him to ask, but knowing he always will, heals her on the days when she does. She leans into him then, closing her eyes and relishing the contact.

“May I please kiss you?”

Its spoken so softly Erica isn’t even sure she heard it, but she opens her eyes to find his and the pleading of his own gives him away. “softly” she conditions in a whisper. He gives her the briefest of nods before leaning in, giving her the time to change her mind if she desires and then she closes the space, pressing her lips to his lightly and gripping at the lapels of his suit jacket. She doesn’t deepen it, and he follows her lead, but she still puts love into the kiss, gently tugging him closer. He pulls away first, thumb stroking her cheekbone from its place on her face.  “Well my Evenstar, shall we go?” She buries her face in his coat at the reference to her favorite fantasy world, “Yes Mr. Stanton,” she drags her eyes up to him with another soft smile “we shall”. His hand is extended to help her down (though it isn’t far at all with the addition of the heels) and the smile he directs up at her resembles the cat who got the canary, as he tucks the same hand around his arm. “The world awaits”.

*Dinner that evening*

The dinner goes well, Erica and Roman separating (he’d sent Butch with her for his own peace of mind) as the night went on, it turned out the man he’d been meeting with had several companions and Erica was willing to make a few friends if the situation lent itself to such a thing. She’d come back after a while, (maybe a little less care-free than before Roman thought but he hadn’t been able to ask at the time) saying that Butch had had something to take care of and would be re-joining them both soon.

It isn’t until Butcher is walking with them to the car, Erica on his right arm and Roman on hers, that anyone mentions the situation, Butcher commenting softly

“She kept asking me who I’d like to,” he pauses and Erica trains her gaze on his face “do, things, with” he finishes lamely; gaze resolutely focused ahead of him, only breaking to scan for threats. Erica tilts her head in silent question. “Adult things.” He tacks on and confusion flits across her face before he adds “not taxes, the other stuff”. Her posture straightens before she breathes a noncommittal “ah”.

Roman tilts his head and looks to her in question.

“One of the girls was, very thrilled, with Butch, she couldn’t have held a candle to Hannah. I didn’t much care for any of them so I rejoined you.” She says by way of explanation.

Butcher scoffs, “No one could hold a candle to my Hannah. All due respect Ms. Erica” He says it with a smile sent her way and his hand coming to rest over hers where it rests on his arm.

Butcher plunges ahead as they exit the venue, “She took a real shine to you though, I kept trying to explain you wouldn’t be into it, but she wasn’t really getting the hint. I told her you were ace, she said that meant you hadn’t been with the right people. That she could fix it for you”. For a brief moment Erica almost wants to turn back to ensure Butcher hasn’t left the poor thing tied up somewhere as she is absolutely certain Romans slideshow did cover this response (if she didn’t remember after his insistence that she proofread it for him the tension she can feel from him is indication enough). But once again Butcher carries on without thought and finishes with a flourish as he opens the car door.

“She got a real nice cab home, courtesy of the local police department.”

Erica stops halfway in the car in shock, still holding roman’s forearm in preparation to slide in “Butcher, you had her arrested?”

He shrugs, “Well, I couldn’t take her into the men’s room for a talk myself could I?” he says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if arguing in her defense during dinner hadn’t been kind enough, as if leaving the woman any chance to say such things to her face would have been absurd. She hugs him then, throws both arms around his neck and pulls him down despite her own impressive height.

“Thank you.”

It’s quiet, barely a whisper, and yet she hopes he knows it means the world to her. As she pulls away, she tells him so, and slides into the car before the emotion can make itself known. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Roman shake Butcher’s hand and she hopes to God it’s over a raise (it’s not as if she wants to buy respect but she’s certain whatever they pay him isn’t enough with the defense he just gave for her). Roman slides in after and Butcher closes the door before moving to sit with the driver, she almost moves to ask Roman to have Butcher keep them company but pauses when she meets his eyes, instantly seeing somethings on his mind. Her eyes soften, “Don’t be upset for me, he handled it better than I could have ever dreamed.”

Roman sighs, “You know me so well love.”

“I do.” It’s punctuated by her bringing their foreheads together, placing a quick peck on his lips before leaning back again. He chuckles, rubbing his thumb along the side of her face gently, reaching toward the dangling earrings she’s wearing before brushing his fingers along the length of her earlobe, down to the cartilage to cradle her bling.

“These are lovely.” His eyes find hers with a knowing smile, they had been her 7th month anniversary present and the reason she’d gotten ready at the pent-house, he’s pretty sure he’d be a failure if he didn’t mention them. “They pale in comparison to the woman wearing them, but they are beautiful.”

She blushes then, looking down before tracing her fingers up the line of his lapel, up his throat lightly before tapping the end of his nose with her finger. Eyes following the trail her fingers blaze, they finally meet his.

“The man who bought them had great taste.” She declares and Roman smiles wider,

“It would seem his taste in lovers is even better.”

Now she’s looking down and laughing, crinkling her nose because she’s trying to stifle the sound, its his favorite expression out of all the ones he’s seen her make so far. She doesn’t do it as often as she laughs, only when she’s found something exceptionally funny, or when she’s being tickled, it only happens when she’s become so full of joy that she forgets to school her expression into something conventionally ‘pretty’

As she looks up she says, still giggling, “You’ve already won me Roman, you don’t have to woo me too.”

He makes a conscious effort to look scandalized.

“My dear, I would simply waste away were I forced to forgo my endeavor to love you better than Shakespeare could write or Da Vinci could paint. I must be nothing less than a master at my craft lest I fall into the pit of despair that is the thought of you needing another. I must never lax, disregarding the passing of time. For as long as you’ll have me, I’ll love you.” The culmination of his declaration consists of him bringing her hand to his lips, holding eye contact as he presses his lips to the back of it softly. He had begun in grandiose, but he’d barely spoken a few words before becoming fully aware of his own sincerity and embracing it wholeheartedly. She’s smiling now, eyes turned soft and accepting of his affection.

“Then I’ll consent to be loved.”

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

[thewritingstar]

desperate hugging with the greens

Um I....Im sorry but this kinda got sad but desperate hugging calls for desperate situations.......enjoy? idk if you can though.....

warnings: character death...sorta 

also they dont have powers

----

Beep Beep Beep

The sound of the heart monitor echoed in her ears as she escorted herself out of the hospital room. It was too white and dim all at the same time as the only color was the fiery red of her older sisters hair.

She wrapped her arms around herself trying to provide any comfort but it didn’t work. She knew Blossom would be okay, she had to be. That was the only option as had left. 

The thought of her standing over a casket as its lowered to the ground haunted her, she wasn’t sure she could take it. The expressionless face as her skin turned grey from the loss of life left a gruesome imagine in her mind as she took a seat on a chair. 

The doctors said she was alright. Besides minor blood loss, she should be okay. She had forgotten what they had said afterwards, she couldn’t think clearly anymore. 

It happens too fast for her to tell. All she remembers was driving and a classic summer pop song filling the cars radio as they sang along. She was the one driving as Blossom was in the passenger seat. Behind them the sunset had begun to fade as the lights of the city came into view. 

It was a sister beach day and she remembers the look on Blossoms face when she told her the news. Tears pinched her skin as she hugged her sister close and even she had shed a few tears. She had been so happy and she was convinced that there was nothing that could ruin their moment. 

The light had turned green and her foot was on the gas. Blossom had said something about a new dress and bow but instead she let out a ear piercing scream. She felt the impact instantly. 

The other car speeding through the red light had hit them from the back seats and the car had spun and she felt her body smash against the steering wheel as the air bags inflated. 

There was so much pain as her head snapped back and when the world stopped spinning she reached over for her sister, shaking her shoulder as she felt blood in too many places. 

“B-blossom.” She screamed out but she wasn’t even sure if she had made a sound as she felt her body being taken out of the car and the world turned blurry and black. 

Her eyes were blank as she stared at the door.

“Buttercup?” The voice brought her out of her trance as she looked up. 

Blossom’s fiancee Brick stood with a bundle of flowers that he had been gripping way to tight and she was engulfed into a hug. “They said she’ll be okay.” She whispered to him but the look in his eyes said otherwise. 

The nurse brought him in and the door shut, the hallway becoming cold. She felt herself being pulled into a familiar pair of arms. The scent of pine provided instant comfort as she wrapped her arms around him. 

“I tried to get here as soon as possible but they only called today.” He kissed her temple but her usual smile wasn’t there. “Do you know how much longer you’ll be here?”

Her voice was horse as his hands came down to rub at her arms. “I should be okay for tomorrow.” She looked at her feet and sniffled. 

He could see the dread over come her body and she didn’t even hear him ask the nurse something as he took her hands and lead her out the back doors. In the back of the hospital was a small garden. A few picnic benches and a hedge maze brought some color to the bleakness of the building. 

She was thankful that her boyfriend could sense she was getting antsy inside. They didn’t say anything as they walk and she was thankful that it was just them as they sat at a picnic table. She wasn’t one to show her emotions easily but the trauma she endured was weighing heavily on her.

Buttercup sat on the top of a picnic table with Butch standing between her legs. She hated the grimy feeling of her hair and desperately wanted to have water run over her soon but right now all she wanted to do was be held by her boyfriend. 

Her eyes were on his chest, not daring to meet his eyes as he continued to brush the side bangs to the side. He was patient and silent, waiting for her to make the move, that’s what she loved so much about him. Nothing was rushed or fast pace, they could go as slow as they needed and savor all the moments.

But sometimes she wished moments would happen fast then be forgotten. 

Her lip was quivering as she rubbed the tips of her fingers together, nervousness setting in and he instantly saw the tears slip gently down. 

“Buttercup.” He whispered and she felt all her strength collapse. 

Her lip quivered before she threw her arms around his shoulders and buried her face into his chest. His hands wrapped around her body instantly and he kissed her head as she desperately hugged him. 

Her arms tighten, afraid that if she let go, he would be gone. The flashback of the car and all she could see was the heartbreak on his face and the destruction in his eyes. It was becoming all to much. 

“It was all my fault” Her voice was cracked as she sobbed and he dug his fingers through her matted hair.

“Don’t you ever say that. It was not your fault.” He tried to reason with her. She want to believe so badly. She wanted to know for sure but maybe if she had checked, no the light was green. It was green!

“I-I can’t lose her Butch.” 

“You’re not going to.” He pulled away and cupped her face with his hands. His own eyes were filled with tears and her hands rested on his wrists as she stared at him. “Shes going to okay. Okay?” 

Her head slowly shook as she blinked away the tears and his thumbs circled her swelled cheeks. 

“I was so worried.” He whispered as his forehead rested against hers. “When they called, Buttercup I didn’t know what to do. But I had to tell myself you were okay and look you are but, fuck-I’ve never been that scared in my life. Buttercup, I can’t even imagine what i would do without you. I love you so much.” 

“I lost her.” She cried into his chest again. 

“No, Blossom is okay. Shes in good hands-”

Her voice was muffled by his shirt as she whispered. His hands were back rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head. She said it again but he couldn’t make it out. 

“I’m sorry.” She crocked out and this time her face was red and broken. There was desperation written across and he had never seen her look this...lost. 

Her face was puffy and her eyes flickers back and forth to his. Her body was ice cold and he tried to make her understand. 

“Baby its not your fault, the crash wasn’t your fault. Blossom is okay. Love, you are okay.”

“They told me I lost-”

“Lost?” 

“I-” His eyes traveled to where her hands were resting. 

lost?

lost?

oh.

Oh.

OH.

His eyes widened as she couldn’t bare to finish the sentence. He gently took her hands in his. “Hey.” His voice was soft and he picked her head up gently with his hand. “Buttercup.”

“I lost our baby. You didn’t even know.” Tears fell faster and harder and she felt like she couldn’t breath. “I am so sor-”

“Do not apologize.” He begged her. His eyes were wide. “Buttercup I could never blame you for something out of your control.”

She wiped her cheek. “They told me I wouldn’t be able to have kids again.”

He felt his heart shatter. They had talked about kids for so long. The thought of them taking their bundle of joy to their first sports game and teaching them how to read and write. The giggles and laughter they would share as they fell into a domestic bliss that they desperately craved. 

She had found out a week ago. The feeling of pure joy as the two small line appeared was something she couldn’t describe. The newest chapter of her life was about to begin and she was ready. 

And then there was Blossom. Her older sister had wanted a baby but unfortunately couldn’t have one so when she learned she was going to be an auntie, she cried tears of joy. Matching bows and cute little dresses were what she talked about during their beach trip. Their little sister Bubbles was on the phone back home with their father and they were just as excited. 

She could see it now. Getting home and running towards Butch. Throwing herself into his arms and kissing him senseless as she shared the news. She could see his face confused then morphed into pure glee. He would shed a tear and she would laugh and then they would celebrate with cake and a movie. 

The next few months would be her complaining about cravings and him adoring every moment of his girlfriend and quickly propose to prove he was there for her. She could see their life as if it were a movie. 

And now it was over. 

He held her close to his chest. The unbearable weight of the situation riding on them. He couldn’t imagine the pain she was carrying and the blame she was placing but all he knew was that she was safe and still here and thats all he could ask for. 

“I could never love you less.” He reassured her. “I need you to promise me you won’t forget. No matter what we face, we will get through this.” 

He took her hand and placed a soft kiss to it before kissing her cheek. 

“I love you.” He whispered. 

“I love you too.” 

They sat in the garden holding each other as the realization dawned on them. They were full of heartbreak and sorrow.

-----

idk how to end this. so ugh enjoy. maybe ill rewrite this one day. hope this was okay.

[voxel-loves-you]

Companion Francine

This is for if she were a companion in FO4. She wouldn’t be interested in traveling with the Lone Wanderer in 3. She had her own shit to deal with during that time.

1: Where can we find your Companion? South of Salem. You will either run into her scavenging and she will ask for some extra muscle to carry her crap. OR you will find her in a shootout with some Children​ of Atom. After the shootout, she’ll question if you're one of those religious crazies.

2: Why do they decide to follow SoSu? Do they do it for money? Boredom mainly. She has no real need for caps. If you are wearing power armor or traveling with Danse, she will refuse to follow. However, IF you are traveling with MacCready when you meet her, she will agree to help you no matter what, even if you have on power armor.

3: Do they have relations to the other companions? If so, how did they meet? MacCready. When she was 17 and living in DC she helped out Little Lamplight. Brought them books and medicine. He had a crush on her. It was cute. Also, she will talk about Butch randomly. The higher her affinity goes, the more scathing the Butch commentary gets.

4: What are some of their catchphrases? Just strings of filth falling out of her mouth.

5: When SoSu switches companions, what does your Companion say to the other? Generic (Doesn't acknowledge previous companion) Lady SoSu: “Ready to raze this shit hole to the ground?” Male SoSu: *long annoyed groan* “Fffffine. I guess one of us has to have a dick, and it sure as fuck isn't you.”

Danse Replacing him: Frankie: “Oh look. It's Danse.” Danse: “Citizen.” Frankie : *mocking Danse* “Citizen.”

Him replacing her: Frankie: “You're kidding, right?” Danse: “I don't understand. What do you think I am joking about?” Frankie: *frustrated groan* “Ad ignorantiam!” Danse: “That's not our—” Frankie: *louder groaning*

MacCready Replacing him:  Mac: “Maybe you could take someone else with you?” Frankie: “Aww! Are you worried about me, Robbie?” Mac: “Very.”

Him replacing her:  Frankie: “Robbie, if you come back in one piece, I'll let you snuggle with me.” Mac to the SoSu: “I’m sniping from a secure position and that's it. You get into trouble, I’m bailing.”

6: What do they like and dislike? Mod Weapons: Loves Mod Armor: Likes  Enter Power Armor: Hates Stealing: Indifferent  Pickpocketing: Indifferent  Lock Picking: Indifferent  Hacking: Loves Using Chems: Indifferent  Chem Addiction: Hates Using Alcohol: Indifferent  Nudity: Indifferent (but will comment on it) Cannibalism: Indifferent  Healing Dogmeat: Likes Easing Settlers’ Troubles: Dislikes (feels others should be self sufficient, as it's cruel to help people if you don't plan on sticking around)

7: What do they usually say when SoSu asks for their thoughts? “I think I dislocated my shoulder again.” “Me and MacCready go way back. I used to bring him snack cakes and books in exchange for the obscenities he yelled at me. Yeah. I've heard him say fuck.”

8: What do they say when SoSu asks about their relationship? (Make a dialogue for friends, best friends and highest affinity) Friends: “I wouldn't push you off a cliff.” BF: “It’s nice being around someone that doesn't make me feel like complete shit.” BFF: “You made my walk to The Commonwealth worth it. Thanks.”

9: What perk do they have once SoSu has the highest affinity with them? Serendipitous Setback: How lucky for us... well it was. (Boosts critical hits by 50% but there is also a 50% chance speech checks will fail.)

10: What’s their backstory? Former vault dweller turned slave turned drug addict turned sober mercenary walks hundreds and hundreds of miles to be disappointed by nearly every man she meets. Decides to live in solitude on a boat docked near Kingsport Lighthouse.

11: What do they say when SoSu has the lowest affinity with them and they decide to leave? “I’ve got a whole jar full of kerosene waiting for you. If I see you again you’ll be wearing one half and drinking the other.

12: What do they say when SoSu flirts with them? For gent SoSu: “You've got to be kidding me.” For lady Sosu: “You're aiming at the wrong target. But thanks.”

13: What’s in their inventory? A scoped .44 magnum, .308 sniper rifle, navy blue dress, glasses, Pip-Boy 3000, toothpaste, Med-X, a matchbox, and whatever fire accelerant she recently found.

14: What’s their opinion on the four factions? Francine does not care for any of them. However, she is a fan of The Pack’s philosophy and will flirt with Mason if the SoSu is treating The Pack favorably during the Nuka World DLC.

15: What’s their opinion on synths? She wouldn't really have any moral conundrum over their existence. However she’d be very interested in figuring out how the Gen 2 synths work. Especially learning if they have free will. If you take her to Far Harbor she will be EXTREMELY suspicious of DiMA. His words taste like poison to her.

16: Do they have siblings/parents/other? If so, where are they? No siblings. Her father is dead, and her mother is MIA but likely dead.

17: What weapon do they use? Prefers her scoped magnum, but is good with a sniper rifle (if you force her to use the rifle it cuts her health in half, as the kick injures her)

18: What’s their dialogue when speaking to Takahashi? “I want three. And load it up with that spicy shit!”

19: What’s their dialogue when speaking to SoSu after the ending? (You can decide which faction SS goes with.) BoS: She will start shooting at you unless you reached max affinity with her. Only then will she talk to you first. “Why did you help them? They're bad people. They just want to take everything you have and leave you to die. I hate them. I hate you.”

Institute: “At least you have hot water now. I wonder if anyone else is happy about you and your hot water?”

MM & RR: “Sure. You did some nice things that make you feel good about yourself. But did they learn how to help themselves? And are you going to stick around to get them out of the next mess?”

20: What’s their ‘Lovers Embrace’ dialogue None. She cannot be romanced.

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 5 of 10?

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Thor agreed Brianna going to Asgard a good idea as Loki presumed and shielded her from Heimdall's sight as a precautionary measure. Before leaving, the brother's sat observing Little Warrior lead Tony and Pepper to the couch and hand him a usb stick.

"What's this?" He asked.

"A computer virus. My revenge plan was to disembowel Jarvis if you hadn't kept your promise."

Stark eyed Loki who shrugged a shoulder. "Don't look at me. I only learned of it this morning."

"It's my creation, pretty nasty and should be destroyed." Said Brianna.

"How nasty?"

"It bears the potential to wipe out most of New York's power grids."

Tony was momentarily speechless. "I'll do that and am overjoyed you two became friends."

"Me too and sorry for being so rude when you touched my stuff."

"It's alright." Said Pepper.

"No it wasn't. You deserve to know why. Loki mentioned the homeless people right?"

"Yes."

"Dory was the first one I met. Taught me handy street smarts and helped shop for my boy clothes. Ran away from home because her moms boyfriend was a jerk. I encouraged her to call one day and when she learned they split up, convinced her to go home. Really smart person. Dreams of becoming an Astronaut. Anyway, she had a big crush on Captain America and gave me her favorite hat as a gift. Then I met Muriel. A mean looking older lady who was actually super sweet and protected me something fierce. Beat this guy up one night for trying to steal my blanket while cursing him sideways. She loved Chinese food and taught me self defence techniques, like how to poke a hole in someone's brain by shoving a chopstick up their nose."

Everyone's ears and attention piqued as Tony wondered if Muriel was a distant cousin of Sasquatch's. "Hopefully not on live subjects."

"No, silly. On a plastic skull she molded a face onto with clay. I paid for the supplies. Helping police identify people used to be her job in Arizona. Great way to kill zombies though. Best to behead them like with vampires and guarantee they've bit the bullet." Brianna then pulled a gold bracelet with a four leaf clover charm from her pocket. "Muriel was Irish and gave me this for good luck. It's too big so I carry it in my pocket. Before meeting you guys, they were the first people who were super nice to me. I fretted their gifts ruined in the wash."

"I'm sorry." Said Pepper.

"It's okay. I was just a little freaked."

'And nearly built a cave for the abominable snowman.' Thought Stark. "We were more worried about you after the fact."

"I could tell by your happy dance when I woke."

"Hey, badass did one too. In the hall. You didn't see."

Brianna giggled. "Thanks to you both for everything and I'm sorry for lying."

"Meh, we understand."

"I meant about not having a favorite Avenger. It's you uncle Cootyoodles. That's why I sought your help first. The Black Widow was my next stop."

Tony pictured Nat teaching her how to yank teeth out with pliers and felt twice as relieved for keeping that promise. "Nat's eccentric and hates zombies. I'm way more fun." Brianna suddenly hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. "Awe, Little Warrior. Friends forever?"

"Damn straight!" Then she did the same to Pepper. "I forgot to explain why you're a badass role model. Working so hard to become CEO of a massive company like Stark Industries and executing all that embodies? You rock! I hope to grow up as astute, diligent and athoritative. Maybe I'll run a company one day."

"You already possess those traits and will exceed my achievements."

No one knew that better than Loki who cleared his throat. "Grandmother and Grandfather go to bed early, Min Lille."

"One more minute, please?"

"Alright."

She studied Stark, pondering the best way to implement her request. "You don't have to do this, but… Not all homeless people are bad or crazy like others seem to believe. Many hit hard times and the world is so expensive, they couldn't keep up. No one I met lived on the streets because they wanted to. There just aren't enough shelters or resources available. You're rich Tony and could help them. Will you try?"

As Loki had succeeded with Frigga, those beautiful pleading eyes won her case. "You really know how to pull a guys heart strings, kid. I promise."

Loki wasn't aware she'd intended to ask this, yet was so proud of her. "Min Lille?"

"I know." She politely replied.

"You have to go." Tony suddenly stood and darted for the hall. "Be back in a jiffy."

"Meet him by the elevator, or you'll never leave." Suggested Pepper.

He returned and handed Loki a loaded Iron Man backpack. "More things? Shall I conjure a crate for the bifrost?"

They'd already given her an overstuffed suitcase of clothes and toys and Stark held a gift bag in hand. "Be quiet, you. It's a peanut butter stash. Does Asgard have bananas?"

"Yes." 'Thank the Norn's.'

Tony knelt before Brianna. "I would've packed some tater tots, but you ate them all again."

She smirked. "My goof."

"Rascal. Try to ignore a wee, bitty smidgen, you aren't into girly stuff? We couldn't help ourselves with you off to Asgard."

Brianna pulled from the bag a pink baseball cap that said Warrior Princess in tiny diamond gems and proudly adorned it. "You sure know how to pull a girls heart strings."

"I put some Motown CD's in there too. Teach Dad to moonwalk." Loki sighed, pushed the elevator button and Tony playfully whispered. "From a distance. In case he trips over his own big feet." He hugged her again and summoned Jarvis.

"Yes, sir?"

"Our friend is leaving."

"Goodbye, Little Warrior." Said the AI.

"Bye. Sending you a virtual hug."

She joined Thor inside while Loki shook hands with Tony, his expression saying everything. "Any time. Now get the 'bleep' out of my Tower before I thieve your Daughter."

Brianna shouted as it closed. "There's presents on your bed! I'll miss you!"

Peppers was a black t shirt with gold letters that read Badass Role Model and Tony's was a monsterous box filled with tater tots.

"Don't do it, Butch. If you cry, I'm gonna cry." ***** Loki had purposely slowed the elevator allowing her time to give Thor a drawing.

"Mjolnir in a field of flowers? Thank you fair maiden."

"It's a scratch n' sniff."

"A what?"

Loki picked up Brianna. "You scratch the flowers, then sniff them. The effect is most appealing the stronger you inhale."

Thor took a whiff and wriggled his nose. "Quite the nostril tickler. What should they smell like?"

"Try harder." 'Doofus.'

He took another, looked cross eyed at Loki and began swaying. "...Brother..you…" Then down he went striking the floor with a thud the tip of his nose covered in sparkly dust.

"Sorry, uncle Thor."

Loki chuckled at her wince. "The spell is mild and shall soon wear off."

"Is he hurt?"

Loki let her down to hurle the hefty Thor over his shoulder. "Us God's are resilient. Your uncle once endured a skirmish with the Hulk." After escorting them through a portal and delivering Brother oaf to his bed, he lead Brianna through a second into some woods.

"That was awesome! Will you teach me how to do it?"

"Not in the near future. It's very complicated, darling and I'd hate to think you lost in another dimension." 'Or vanishing one day as an angry teen with a troublesome suitor I dream of throttling.'

"Okay." Brianna nervously scanned the area. "Now what? Carnivores hunt these woods."

"Northern Alberta is home to many. Never go outside without me and none will harm you."

"But wolves hunt in packs and grizzlies are bigger than you."

He booped her little nose. "I'll smell them before they smell us and neither possess deadly weapons in interdimensional pockets."

"Where our luggage is? I tried hiding bigger items in them and the darn things wouldn't come back. Hannah was furious, but I didn't care."

"What did you hide?"

"The back wheels of her Lamborghini, Gallardo. I overheard my Mother tell Claudia she got it from her rich boyfriend."

Loki recalled from spending time with Stark this wasn't a billionaire's vehicle, yet financially unattainable to the average Midgardian. "I see. Did she mention his occupation?"

"Plastic surgeon."

Brianna deserved that minor victory and although he wouldn't encourage it, one cannot preach vengeance a negative path when mapping their own. 'Perhaps he'll be useful to the sluts after I'm done.' "Ah. Care to see what I did while you slept last night?"

"You left me?" She confusedly asked.

He picked her up again. "It was necessary and I returned, yes? I won't abandon you, Og Min Lille."

"Never?"

"Never, darling. "Loki headed for a shack nearby nestled amidst some bushes. With its crooked roof, faded wood and door minus a hinge the structure looked ready to collapse.

"We're staying there?"

"Why not? I'll conjure an outdoor toilet." He teased. "Sheltered of course."

"Ewww."

"Come now. At night we'll have heated beds and during the day, roast squirrels on an open fire."

She scrunched her face in disgust. "Blech! I'd rather eat tree bark."

"You'll get an awful tummy ache."

They entered the dingy space and Brianna instantly focused on the filthy floor covered in forest debris. So intently, she didn't notice the sturdier frames of the structure only visible from within. "How will we keep the door closed and is that poop?"

Loki rolled his eyes at some turds in a corner. "The cabin is made of Brazilian Ebony."

"One of the strongest woods on earth." She commented.

He arched an intrugued brow. "Stained to appear aged, it's also bulletproof in light of human hunters. Consider the other materials deceiving movie props. The 'raccoon' poop is genuine." It vanished with a wave of his hand. "Now, did you mean that door?" It closed and he conjured a deadbolt onto the surface with a panel directly above. "Place your hand in the center?" Brianna did and it glowed green, spreading magic from the center throughout every surface like glowing, emerald fireflies. As they dimmed, Loki turned around. "Or this one?" The floor, suddenly cleared of debris had a sliding glass door in the center.

Brianna gasped in wonder, glancing between him and the mystery beneath. "Where does it go?"

"Did you think a sorcerer Prince would allow his Princess daughter to dwell in a shabby old shack?"

"Ancestry aside, I sincerely hoped not. Even an RV would've been better."

He chuckled at her frankness. "And you worried of uncle Thor bumping his head? The shacks purpose was added safety should a need arise and to keep our secret entrance hidden. "Once the outer door locks, only the interior alters. To outsiders, nothing changes." It opened and he carried her down a mutedly lit spiral staircase, each step progressively illuminating the space below.

At the bottom, she slid from his arm in awe. "Shut the front door! You 'definitely' have to teach me how to do this."

Min Lille was referencing conjuring. Another ability Loki thanked the Norns she didn't yet possess, having confessed so before requesting Tony and Pepper's gifts. "In time. Beyond that archway, another surprise awaits." Loki followed and suddenly pondered Brianna conjuring a future dwelling for herself and that troublesome suitor. 'Lessons commence when your forty.' ***** Thor woke to find two notes in his shirt pocket. One for himself the other, Astrid; 'Sleep well, Brother? We won't be returning to Asgard just yet. Please give this to my wife? I recommend waiting several days, discreet delivery and a hasty exit. A visit will follow and when interrogated, lie. Tell her Brianna came to you and don't mention her ice concoction. Unless you enjoy Father's company when several fries short of a happy meal. As I planned our escape without Tony's knowledge, do avoid his unnecessary panic and Pepper seeking our demise, by not telling our dear friend? Min Lille is safe.'

"That shyster." He grumbled. Jane returned in six days as would Astrid to a missing Loki. Waiting risked a molotov cocktail interrogation. His beloved and coronary inducing sister-in-law, banging down their locked bathroom door while the mighty Thor coward behind a shower curtain. Plus Maxi Waxis training schedule ended in two days. Bribery assured those lips zippered, but Heimdall would think his hastiness suspicious. He called to the trainee in the middle of the night, snuck into the palace and raced back to the observatory like the looney tunes road runner. "Spend it well nincompoo..eh he, Max. Asgard is lucky to have you."

Guilt ridden over her outburst and already missing Loki, Astrid returned in the morning to find the note.

Frigga was preparing to join her belly dancing instructor when she barged into the foyer and flung herself at the Allmother.

"Bwaaahahaa! I want a divorce!"

"Hells bells and bilgesnipe testicles. What has my shameless son done this time?"

"Frigga, your language." Scolded Odin.

She patted Astrid's back. "Oh shush. As if your cursing hasn't scarred the servants ears."

[rosepetals-flyingbirds]

Tortured Souls. (9)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader.

<<

Warnings: Mention of sex, language.

Word Count: 3,544

The prior days were amazing.

The cliche love story was happening and everything was calm and serene.

Yet you were still worried about the crimes so you tried to call your friends seeking for new information,

Fury said it was better to wait a few days, before going back home. Just to have the opportunity to intercept another video or phone call by Artem or “you”.

Bucky made sure you were happy and treated you like a princess. 

You two spent days doing nothing and everything all together. In one moment you two were taking care of the animals giving Jordan some free time, and on the other inside the house dancing, relaxing, training to make sure both bodies burned some steam without training or having sex.

Along with the worry about Artem you were also worried about Tony's reaction, he surely wouldn’t take well you being with Bucky. And you couldn’t blame him, Bucky was a victim and used as a marionette to commit murder, yes, but you wouldn’t act differently if he had killed your parents. Well, that if you had lovely parents.

Nor Tony or Fury appeared again, the only visitor you had was Thor apologizing saying he had a big problem to deal with in Asgard and you couldn’t make him stay, it was his kingdom after all.

He apologized like he was really sad he couldn’t help you, but he would keep an eye.

You just hugged the tall god and said it wasn’t a problem and everything was okay, you wished him luck on his issue and he smiled seeing you actually taking the information well, he nodded his head to Bucky saying for him take care of you, Bucky agreed with a smile and Thor summoned some lightning leaving the place and a black circle with runes around the floor in the process.

After dawn, you were in the pool with Bucky, swimming and talking, when your phone rang.

You ran to its reach and saw Clint's name on the screen, Clint said he found another video coming from an old Stark Industry where two men were discussing over the phone and the voice on it belonged to Artem. He told you he wouldn’t tell Everett because it would be better to make sure if anyone was compromised inside the SHIELD they wouldn’t know.

You thanked him, and walked back to the pool. Sitting on the floor and placing your legs in the water, Buck swam to your reach and asked what was wrong.

"Clint intercepted a call and he saw two men talking in an old industry of Tony, and... and hopefully that story will end soon."

Buck looked confused. "And that is a good thing right?"

"It is, but, I don't know what will happen when we get back home."

His eyes filled with understanding, he knew you meant not only to whole Artem thing, but your relationship with him.

"It will be okay." He gave you a smile and you held his hand giving a kiss on his palm. You entered the pool again and swam until you got tired enough to sleep.

                                 …

Fury gave you the green signal to go back to New York.

Steve came with the quinjet to pick you and Bucky, and while leaving, you gave the house a second look memorizing the amazing moments you spent there in the last days with Bucky.

You said goodbye to Jordan, his father and brother. And took care of the animals for the last time, the dogs almost felt like you were leaving, their eyes were sad.

Bucky and Jordan said goodbye as well, somehow both got real friendly with each other and you felt good about it, Bucky wasn’t the type of making friends easily, he ended up being yours and the rest of the Compound because of the routine, but if it wasn’t the living together situation, surely he would only be Steve’s friend.

So it was nice seeing him speaking with someone new. Someone... normal.

Steve landed the quinjet and the intensity of the turbines caused a massive wind swinging in the trees in the process.

Steve smiled and came to hug you, you surely missed your dear friend, he hugged Bucky as well and looked at you like he knew something you didn’t. You hadn’t said any intimate detail to Steve, just a text when he asked how things were going and you answered. ’Pretty good, we are okay.’

Although you have no idea if Bucky texted him or called, either way, the priority was going back home, grab some evidence and head to Washington to SHIELD and finish the whole soap opera drama.

In the Compound you were smiling seeing the big place up while the jet was still in the clouds, Wanda and Sam were in the hangar and you ran to their reach.

Steve didn’t even fully land the quinjet when you jumped out of it and ran to your friend’s approach, you hugged Sam almost knocking him to his ass. “I missed you guys so much! How are you? Any news?” You asked excitedly and sensed Steve and Bucky walking past you carrying the bags you and Bucky had taken to the house.

Sam opened his mouth and something told you he was going to say something about your situation, but it wasn’t that you wanted to know, not yet. “Please news about you guys, I feel terrible for running away and leaving the mess for you guys deal with, please feel free to curse me.” You laughed and Wanda hugged you, it wasn’t the same thing without you in the Compound.

“Actually everything is okay, no news I guess,” Sam said.

You nodded and walked inside happy to be home.

You texted Tony, Clint, and Fury saying you got back into the City and were in the Compound.

Tony texted saying he was in the physiotherapy with Rhodey and he would head there at the moment the session finished, and Clint texted you back saying he went home to spend a few days with his family but he would be back in a couple of days.

You went to your room and saw your personal belongings there, you tried to not get much hold in objects but a few things that adorned the place always brought you good memories, you opened the safe box you had under your closet and saw a few things around.

Inside had the picture of you and Tony back in 2008, the first picture together, a drawing Steve made years back which you adored so he gave it to you.

And then you saw your favorite creation over the years, the perfect replica of a lightsaber, you grabbed the thing clicking on the button making the hot light appears.

You loved Star Wars and one day you were in Tony’s lab helping him with the suits and you saw how his repulsor held energy, you tried to make a lightsaber and with the help of Tony -and at least twenty fails- you two created the perfect Anakin’s lightsaber the world could ever dream off.

As the repulsors of the suit’s, you made the unit connected through Tony’s Arc Reactor so the plasma blade could be powered just like in the movies. You used some material that conducts energy, like an electrostaff, Z6 riot control baton, and some rare metals that could be considered as the kyber crystals, the junction of the materials concentrated the reactor’s energy in a unique manner resonating with it. You thought of doing one like Kylo’s since the last movie was released -and his lightsaber was pretty awesome- but Tony said it would be unnecessary which was true.

You couldn’t go on a mission with a lightsaber and cut people’s hands and necks with it, too many politicians laws around the missions protocols, so the thing was almost... a toy.

A deadly one as that.

Someone knocked on the door and you looked at Bucky, he saw the dangerous weapon in your hand and remembered when you made him watch the whole saga. “I still can’t believe you made one of these.”

“Well, nothing is impossible.” You replied and he sat beside you on the floor, he looked at the picture and sighed almost soundless, you knew what he was anxious about, Tony would never allow the two of you together.

Bucky knew you could not keep a secret from Tony so it was just a matter of time. “Don’t worry, we don’t have to tell him yet.”

He propped his arm encompassing your shoulder and kissed your hairline retaining you adjacent his chest, you kept looking at the things.

Bucky wondered about your words previously, the words that explained you were scared that you two were just some ��vacation thing’ that in real life you two would go in separate ways and ignore each other again like in the day you get hurt on a mission.

“Tony is here." Sam yelled from the halls and stepped into your quarters seeing you and Bucky snuggled. “I knew it!” He shouted with an ear to ear smile.

You smiled at his reaction. “Okay okay but spare Tony’s anxiety a few more please, let’s fix this whole Artem thing first and then we tell him.” You kissed Bucky’s cheek, making the tough big super soldier blush, and stood up storing your things inside the safe box. “Let’s go.”

Bucky stood at your room, he couldn’t see Tony so he would hide until he left.

Tony was wearing one of his expensive suits you wondered where he was earlier. “Finally!” Tony said and hugged you. “I can’t wait to kill the bastard and have you back home again.” You lived in the Compound but also in the houses around the world, and when Tony needed some time to breathe you always went with him. So ’home’ meant whenever he was.

“It’s good to see you. Tell me how is Rhodey?”

“He is okay, doing well… but he won’t be able to walk alone ever again, just with the midsection part of the suit we created for him.” You could sense Sam tensing in the corner of your eyes, the poor man blamed himself for Rhodey’s paraplegia, but it was just an unfortunate accident. “Fury told me you two fixed everything, I’m glad he finally realized.” He let an exaggerated sigh of relief.

You smirked. “Yeah, me too. But okay, what do we do now?” You wanted to take your gear or maybe one of the Iron Man’s suits designed for you and end it all.

“Calm down Butch Cassidy, can we spend some peaceful moment for now?”

“No.” You answered immediately and Sam chuckled. “I just want to finish this.”

“Trust me kid, me too,” Tony said. “But we can't go look for them and finish it all we can’t go all Peter on them.”

You looked at him surprised and confused, “Peter? As Peter Parker?” He nodded and shook his head biting his tongue surely regretting his words. “What Peter had to do with all of this?"

“He might or might not have gone after Artem and spoke with him.” Tony replied staring downward, you kept quiet and he looked at you and scoffed. “I got mad too okay?! But I wasn’t the one told him.” He looked to his right seeing Sam.

You followed Tony’s gaze and shouted at Sam, who had a very guilty face. “You told Peter?”

“Okay calm down, he saw in the news and came here looking for you. I didn’t actually tell him anything.”

It was true, the boy had seen the news on the TV and got crazy worried about you. “Okay it makes sense, but what do you mean he talked with Artem? When had that happened? Artem hurt him?”

“No and no. Don’t worry, he is okay.” Tony replied.

Sam shook his head. “Apparently the kid saw his face in the news and started webbing around the town searching him, he found him talking with other two men and a blond woman.”

“Blond? Maybe it was the bitch that is pretending to be me.”

“Probably,” Tony answered but saw how your face lightened up probably planning to call Peter and grab the information. “Calm down.” He warned.

You sighed in frustration. “Come on I need to fix this! I love you all but I hate feeling like people are doing things for me, please please let me fix this.” You stated.

Tony nodded but sucked his upper lip. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow we call Fury and plan an attack. But now let’s eat something and talk.” He said and invited Sam too.

You waited for Tony to walk a few steps ahead and looked at Sam silently imploring him to not let any sort of information related to Bucky escape.

Bucky.

The man was in your room looking at the cozy place that screamed your name in every aspect. Steve walked in and saw the worry on his friend’s face. “What happened in Oregon?” He asked fully aware something had occurred, crossing his arms and giving the known look.

Bucky chuckled and looked down before darting his eyes at Steve. “What I ever wanted.”

Steve smiled knowing you two would take care of each other, but Bucky’s face remained sad. “What is the matter then?”

“I don’t deserve her Steve. I feel like she is pitying me.”

“Y/N? I’m sure she would never pity you especially like that.” He answered but Bucky didn’t show a reaction, just quietness, and gazes over the room. “I know you worry about our friendship, that I expect you to be the same Bucky of the 40’s and not the Bucky of now.” Bucky stood silent, it was truly what he feared, that Steve wouldn’t like the new Bucky, just the remembrance of the old one that died the moment he fell off the train's wagon. “But you’re my best friend. You were the friend of the skinny troublemaker Steve Rogers and of the Captain America. We both changed Buck, but we are still friends and we always will be.” He sincerely said and Bucky smiled at him. The words held a giant meaning for him.

“She told you that right?” It would surely be one assumption of yours.

“A time ago yes, I just didn’t know what to say.” Steve replied honestly. “What I’m trying to say its that she really likes you and I know you feel the same way. If the hidden on her house made it real then make sure it won’t end, I know Y/N from years now, and I know she doesn’t let people in, and if she let you in making sure to take good care of her.” Steve gave him the speech.

Bucky would surely take care of you, he would do anything to keep you safe. And leaving, was one of them. “What about Tony?”

“Give him time.” Steve answered and both walked out of the place to spare and train. Nothing like two supersoldiers fighting to get a good amount of endorphin.

Y/N.

The following day you received a message from Clint ordering you to wait for him come back before you tried anything, you asked if Tony had said something and his answer was ‘No, I just really know you.’ 

So you waited for him and made strategies over your head while tried to spend some time with your beloved friends.

You kept the video Clint had tracked and followed his instructions. You thought about the possibility of having an ear-bug in the Compound and someone listening what was happening, at least you wanted to believe that was the explanation and not that someone close to you was betraying you so wickedly.

When Clint arrived you two met out of the Compound or any other place someone would presume, Bucky was confused why you left the bed so early but you just said you needed some time and asked him to trust you.

You texted Tony saying you would hang out with Bucky so in that way he wouldn’t come and worry about your whereabouts.

Clint met you on a bench in the central park, that way you two could blend into the crowd and make sure no one else was listening or watching. You wearing jeans, black t-shirt, white converse and a baseball team hat. He was wearing sunglasses and a walking stick trying to pass himself as a blind man.

You two made sure the place was safe and started to talk. Clint smiled at you and you wondered what he was thinking about. “I missed you, the kids do too.”

“I missed you too, man.“ You replied truthfully, Clint was a good friend and a great partner on missions. “I hate that I ran off and let all the stress to you guys, is not you guy’s responsibility to protect me.“ When Steve and Tony told you it was better to hide and let Artem show his face again you grew mad because it wasn’t fair letting people clean up your mess, but you did so and gladly Steve was right after all.

“We are family, of course it’s. But let’s talk about strategies. Me and Sam have been tracking some cameras and keeping an eye on anything that could lead us to Artem or the fake you. The video I sent you gave me a lead. Sam was busy with Steve so I made sure no one else knew about that.”

“I believe someone planted a bug inside the Compound, I mean I rather believe that than consider one of you guys are betraying me.” You sighed.

“I would prefer too kid, but try not to get your expectations up. It will hurt, yes, but let’s keep our heads up.” He said calmly.

Clint was a grown man that lived great adventures over the years of his life, but could he be the one behind all of this? You shook your head and blinked trying to erase those thoughts. “My plan is, we prepare and go to that place and analyze their agents and if Artem is there.”

A dog passed by you and you caressed the big animal, Clint smiled and the girl asked if you two had any, assuming you were a couple. “Yeah, she chooses the dog, of course, but he is the best creature, he actually it’s a great guide when I need him;” Clint said and the girl believed completely he was a visually impaired, you two smiled and saw the girl leaving, the people around were busy with their own worlds and with that addition you and Clint made the best cover.

“Do you know where is Nat?”

“She and Bruce traveled somewhere, I truly don’t know where. Why? Do you think she is the one behind it?” He asked not fully blaming you for assuming things, after all, it could be anyone.

You took a deep breath. “I choose not too, but there is a chance. Peter said a blond woman was talking with Artem but… I don’t know.” The woman was surely wearing a Y/H/C wig on the footage, it wouldn’t be hard to buy a blond one.

“I don’t believe she would do so Y/N. But whoever it’s we will make sure will pay for all of this.” He promised.

A smile adorned your features, your friends were surely the bests. “Thank you, friend. So, you said the place was an old Stark factory?”

“Do you remember when Tony shut down a lot of fabrics around the world?! So that one is located in Greenbelt-Maryland close to-”

“To Washington.” You replied by cutting his words. “So he is not only here but in Maryland too… Actually, it makes sense, if someone of SHIELD is working with him it makes complete sense, but why is he here too?”

He shrugged. “To make people believe you’re actually behind this? To privately attack us.” He suggested, but he knew what you were thinking. “Or because someone from here is doing so.”

You laughed in mockery, you were so tired of all the mess. “You know what Clint? Let’s invade that place and travel to Maryland if necessary. I won’t let some stupid guy and some crazy bitch screw my life. I’m scared of who is behind all of this? Maybe. But I can’t live with that doubt anymore. I won’t.”

Clint closed his eyes and nodded positively. “Yes! That is what I like to hear! So what do we do first?”

You looked at the green place surrounding you two and glanced at him with a smile. “We attack the old factory.”

                 …

>>

Sorry if the allusion of the lightsaber wasn’t something you related to, ignore it if you want. And to anyone who liked please agree with me that Tony is completely capable to create one. Thank you for reading and leave a comment if you fancy. ^^

[ajfanfic]

TITLE: Where Can I Take You

AUTHOR: AJfanfic

PROMPT DAY #6: Found Family

SUMMARY: There is a kid sitting in Geralt’s seat at the bar. She’s swallowed up by an overlarge men’s coat and her dirty blonde hair, the color of snow in the sun. She’d be lovely if not for the black eye, delicate if not for the bruised knuckles. Geralt slides onto the seat next to her. Ciri is a baby butch runaway with no place to go. Geralt and Jaskier offer her a place.

WORD COUNT: 1,281

BOOKS/NETFLIX/2002 SHOW/VIDEO GAME: Netflix Show

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Offscreen violence

RATING: General

Read it below the cut, or on my AO3

I’ll give you my heart to make a place for it to happen, evidence of a love that transcends hunger. Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you? That I would take you there?

- Richard Siken

There is a kid sitting in Geralt’s seat at the bar. She’s swallowed up by an overlarge men’s coat and her dirty blonde hair, the color of snow in the sun. She’d be lovely if not for the black eye, delicate if not for the bruised knuckles. Geralt slides onto the seat next to her.

“Beer for me, and the kid.”

Triss raises an eyebrow. “Really Ger? She’s like, eight.”

Geralt raises her eyebrow too and waits. Triss passes them two glasses. The kid is staring.

“Go on. I’ll drink it if you don’t want it.”

She grabs the glass. Geralt has never been one to start conversations, and it seems the kid isn’t either, so they sit for a while in silence. Her shoulders lower by degree, looking less like a bird ready to leap from a branch.

“Thank you.” Her voice is soft and sweet and reminds Geralt of a songbird.

“What do you want me to call you, kid?”

“Ciri.”

“You’re welcome, Ciri. You picked a good night to show up.”

“Why?”

“Not everyone’s as nice as me.” Geralt flashes a wolfish grin, then softens her expression. “And my girl’s singing tonight.”

“You have a girlfriend?” Her eyes are so damn wide.

“You didn’t wander in here by accident, did you?”

Ciri laughs, and Geralt feels like she’s about to do something stupid, like ask the kid what happened to her face, and if she has a place to stay.

Jaskier spares her by stepping on stage and neither of them dares break her spell by talking. The set flies by, and before she knows it, Jaskier is crossing the room to them, a cocktail in her hand. She drapes herself across Geralt’s broad back, grinning.

“Who’s this?” Jaskier asks.

“I’m Ciri.” She looks up, and her hair falls away from her face.

Jaskier gasps and comes around to perch on Geralt’s lap. She cups the girl’s face, running her fingers over the bruise. “What happened to your face, honey? Do you have a place to stay?”

Geralt snorts. Ciri starts and Jaskier pokes her in the side. “Hush, you.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I was going to ask her the same thing. Let me guess, ran away?”

Ciri tips her chin up defiantly. “I’m not going back.”

“Wasn’t asking you to.”

“She’s asking if you want to stay with us.”

Ciri looks between the two of them. “Are you really?”

“Yes. Do you?”

“Yes.”

Ciri sleeps on the couch in one of Geralt’s t-shirts. She didn’t say much on the walk back to Jaskier’s apartment, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off Geralt. Jaskier joked that she should perhaps feel jealous, and Ciri looked worried until Geralt laughed.

They’re curled together in bed and Jaskier is wondering whether she’d have made a terrible mother. Her own wasn’t exactly an example to follow and she’s only done marginally better but even in hindsight, she can’t see the path she should have taken clearly. Geralt pulls her tight against her chest and she’s confident she’s made at least one right decision. Knowing Ciri is in the other room feels like a second one.

"Do you regret choosing this life?" she asks.

"Didn't have much of a choice, between the person I am and the circumstances I was stuck with,” Geralt murmurs against her hair.

"I suppose I'm the same. If you could have chosen, then.” Jaskier rolls over to face her. “If you could be anything, what would you be?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it for a long time."

"Think about it?"

"I guess I'd do something outdoors, maybe work on a ranch." Geralt remembers her grandmother’s ranch. It was a good place, full of stories she wants to tell Jaskier one day. “What about you?”

"I'd be a singer."

"You are a singer."

"The kind of singer who doesn't need a day job. I have these dreams where I'm traveling the world, and I'm famous, but it's more like I’m respected." She grins. "I can't help but feel like you're supposed to be there too."

"I’d like to be. In my dreams, I wander and I protect people. Sometimes someone is with me, and I want to protect them most of all. I think it’s you." Geralt doesn't say that she'd dreamed of Jaskier long before she'd met her. She couldn’t have. Memory is imperfect.

Jaskier kisses her. “I hope I’m there with you,” she says against her lips. “It sounds lonely.”

Jaskier sleeps late and Geralt tucks the covers over her when she crawls out of bed. She finds Ciri in the bathroom the next morning, a pair of kitchen scissors in her hands. There’s a ring of gold hair on the tiles around her. She freezes when Geralt walks in, fear flashing across her face.

“I’ll clean it up, I’m sorry.”

Geralt holds out her hand, a gesture of peace. “It’s okay. Go sit at the table.”

She digs her clippers out of the cabinet and joins the kid. She holds them up. “These work better.”

Ciri nods. She tugs at the uneven bob she’s given herself.

“How short do you want it?” She hesitates, then sits up straight and says, “Short like a man’s.”

Geralt pulls a chair around behind her and sets to work. The clippers are warm and heavy in her hand, and Ciri seems lighter with every pass of the blade against her scalp. Jaskier emerges as they’re sweeping up. She kisses Geralt good morning and ruffles Ciri’s hair.

“I’m not sure I’ve woken up, two handsome ladies in my kitchen instead of one.” She leans against the counter and puts her hand to her forehead in a mock swoon. “I must be dreaming.”

Ciri laughs, and it’s the first thing she’s done that doesn’t have an edge of fear to it.

Jaskier gets home late. Ciri had gone to sleep not long before and Geralt had been waiting for her at the kitchen table. She isn’t sure when she’d started thinking of Jaskier’s apartment as home instead of her own. Jaskier is carrying her heels and there’s a limp to her step and a bruise forming on her cheek. Geralt waits until she’s closed the door and pulls her into a hug. They stand there for a long moment before Geralt takes her hand and leads her to the bathroom. The shower is the size of a shoebox, but they squeeze in together.

Under the hot water, Jaskier leans her head against her chest. “If you could change any one thing, what would it be?”

“I'd get you out of here. I'd take you to New York City and put you on the biggest stage there, show the whole world how brilliant you are.” Geralt’s hands map out the planes of Jaskier’s back, slow soothing strokes.

“You hate the city.”

Geralt shrugs. “What would you change?”

“I'd buy a ranch, way out in the country, and you could have a horse, and I'd sing for you, and we could just live.”

“You hate the country.”

“Maybe.” She looks up at her. “But I love you.”

Geralt presses their foreheads together. “I'm sorry I can't take you away from here, Jas.”

“I'm sorry too. But I’m glad I met you, and I’m glad we found Ciri.”

“Me too.”

“We can keep her, right?”

Geralt laughed, quietly but deep in her chest. “Yeah, we can keep her.”

[lonelypond]

fools

NicoMaki, Love Live, 8K, 1/1

Summary: Nico Yazawa, soon to be the toast of Chicago for her performance as Oberon in FoOLs! loses her favorite spot at her favorite coffeeshop to a stubborn redhead.

fools

Lily White was Nico Yazawa’s favorite coffeeshop. Run by three friendly, kind, cute women, all of whom had equally cute girlfriends so Nico could flirt freely, no ties, no worries, no misunderstandings. Although, Umi Sonoda did raise an eyebrow if she considered a compliment provocative. But it was a sly, smart eyebrow and HER girlfriend was the up and coming designer and stylist Kotori Minami, who was going to dress Nico for so many awards and opening nights. So Nico stopped by Lily White nearly every day on her way to or sometimes from the complex where FoOLs! was rehearsing.

Crunch time was coming. Nico had to be rock solid on her lines. Opening night was in two weeks, they had just moved to the actual theatre. The budget was so low, rehearsal time had been crunched and nearly all their time had been spent getting the singing and dancing. Nico was exhausted, between actual time spent at the theatre and the time spent on her social media accounts looking so much less exhausted than she felt.

Nozomi at the counter today, so full flirt mode on, a good way to distract Nico from the pain in her feet. She needed new insoles for her tap shoes.

Nico stepped in with a flourish, flipping her scarf over her shoulder, her hair bouncing with more energy than she’d had in three days, “Hey, stacked and sexy, got something warm for Nico?”

Nozomi rolled her eyes, “The usual?”

“You know it. Nico needs what you’ve got.” Nico, self critical as ever, realized that sounded a bit flat and approached the counter, leaning into her elbows, “Sorry, Nozomi, Nico’s tired today. How’s Eli?”

“She got a callback for Cinderella.”

“Good for her.”

Nozomi made Nico’s signature slushy, sugary, 3X caffeinated drink in no time flat and Nico spun to grab a back table, freezing when she saw someone already there, glaring at her. A redhead, with slightly slanted, half closed lavender eyes that would have been lovely with a kinder expression, a Red Stars cap covering vibrant red hair, and a femme tomboy sports aesthetic. Nico smiled and saluted with her cup, “That’s Nico’s favorite seat, but I’ll forgive you this time.”

“There’s no sign.” Sullen.

Nico sighed, a completely internal reaction, no matter how lovely this young woman was getting the more Nico looked at her, the scowl was hard to riff anything off. But Nico would try.

“Impressive pile of books. You a student?”

Expecting a yes, or none of your business, Nico was surprised by a “Just curious.”

“About?”

“Martha Graham.” The arm resting on top of two books seemed protective.

“Martha Graham?” Nico took another look. Maybe this was a dancer friend of Nozomi’s girlfriend, Eli. Would explain the sportif. “The choreographer?”

Eyeroll. Nico could hear the unsaid “duh” and shook herself free from any potential in this conversation and slid into the booth nearest to her usual seat,

“And her collaborators.” Ballcap went back to her reading. Nico sipped her drink, closing her eyes to run through her longest speech. She really needed to nail it tonight, for her own confidence.

Did that mean the dancers? Or the musicians? Nico considered asking but that would require energy she needed to save for rehearsal. It’s not like Ballcap would be delivering a performance critique.

###

Kotori was meeting Nico at Lily White after rehearsal; Nico wanted a new look for the pre opening social media blast. She was feeling particularly pretty in a very vintage-y feel swing dress, pink, scattered with pinker cherry blossoms. Kotori always appreciated her efforts. And while Nico’s costumes for Oberon were to die for, they def skewed butch and boi and Nico just wanted to be flirty femme-y pretty, just for an evening. She’d been wearing button down shirts, tweed trousers, and cardigans during rehearsals to get into the Co Ruler of The Fairy World, CEO of FoOLs Unlimited -- and wasn’t that a name. One of the lines that had carried through from the adaptation of William Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ kept popping into Nico’s head at odd moments, usually when one of her friends was complaining about their girlfriend: “Cupid is a knavish lad, thus to make poor females mad.” Sumi, the actress playing Puck in this initial production of FoOLs! had such a manic gleam in her eye when she rolled into the audience, laughing as the projected screens revealed texts of the mess she’d precipitated the four young lovers into. Her friend’s girlfriend complaints were gentle rain allowing Nico to thrive without thinking about finding someone to date. She had a career to launch with no time for pining or misunderstandings or thinking about what the other party might be interested in. And Tansy Clark, a fellow NU alum, and the TItania to her Oberon, was an excellent theatre wife, always sympathetic, always on time, professional and generous. And their voices blended so well. And Tansy’s girlfriend was a chef so Nico got occasional leftovers.

Nico bounced through the door at Lily White. Umi was at the counter. Nico skipped forward, leaned on the counter and bent forward to air kiss in Umi’s direction, just to watch the dark haired martial artist dodge as seriously as if Nico had been wielding a blade instead of just perfectly pinked lips. Honestly, if Umi hadn’t already had a girlfriend, Nico might have landed a kiss or two, just to see how quickly Umi’s ice melted. The flustering of someone so frosty would have been a rare treat.

“Nico.” Umi’s voice was stern, “We have had conversations about this. Keep your hands off this side of the counter.”

Nico laughed, “So can Nico put them on you instead? Is that more hygenic?”

“No, Nico cannot.” There was actual threat in Umi’s response.

“What if Kotori says I can?” Nico leaned on her elbow, giggling. Umi was so much fun to tease..

“Kotori doesn’t work here.” Umi shook her head, deliberately spraying and wiping where Nico’s hands had been braced. “And she’s running late.”

Nico sighed dramatically, “Is this anyway to treat one of your best customers, Umi Sonoda?”

“With the offset of the 20% standing discount you hoodwinked Nozomi into granting you and what I spend on spills and cleaning supplies, you cost us money.” Umi straightened up, her amber eyes confronting Nico’s, “The math has not been kind.” Then there was a wink Nico almost missed.

“Just wait ‘til FoOLs! opens, people will be lining up to catch a glimpse of Nico.” Nico half turned, flashing her signature smile and gesture to the imaginary throng, “Nico Nico Ni.”

Umi froze, “We could trade you to Dark Depths for one of their quieter, more polite customers.”

“You love Nico. You know it. Everyone loves Nico.” Nico spun, her hands thrown out in a dramatic gesture to get agreement from her hordes of fans. But Lily White was nearly empty, except for...Nico squinted, no ballcap this time, bright red hair, cute nerd glasses, frown again, pale lilac silk shirt unbuttoned one button further than someone who wanted Nico to be polite and ignore their cleavage might have done. But the tousled hair and the half untucked shirt, as well as the open books and sketch pads scattered across the table, all spoke of a haphazard mindset, not a devious one. One hand was drawing a pencil along a ruler while sharp, white teeth bit into the corner of plump, plum lower lip. And all of this was happening in Nico’s favorite seat.

“Who’s the invader?” Nico asked over her shoulder.

“Friend of Rin’s. No one you should bother.” Umi spoke quickly.

“Thanks for that advice, Umi. Can I get a caramel macchiato, please. Nico wants something different today. And Nico’s here to bother YOUR girlfriend, not some random stranger.”

Nico heard Umi pull the espresso shots as she found herself watching the redhead, who seemed to be creating some kind of room layout. Was she an architect? Or considering the neighborhood, a set designer? Had Nico seen a show she’d worked on? Would Umi give up the name if Nico asked. Rin was generally pretty easy going, but her shifts rarely coincided with Nico’s visits. As Nico considered all this, leaning against the counter, half listening for Umi’s return, the redhead glanced up, and once again, frowned, not a reaction Nico was used to people having on first sight of Nico.

“You can’t have this seat. I need the space.” It sounded more plaintive than demanding, the lavender eyes were...wary?

Nico held up both hands, “The glasses are a good look. Nico might need an accountant.”

Eye roll, plus head shake, “Google one.”

Nico took a step forward, “Nico prefers personal recommendations.”

“Pay for your coffee.” The pencil pointed to where Umi had placed Nico’s drink, then the redhead returned to working with the ruler, ignoring her audience.

Nico turned, “I’ll buy one of whatever she’s drinking.”

“No.” Umi sighed.

“Is that anyway to run a business?”

“Coffee, black. Thermos.” Umi didn’t look thrilled.

“Add it to my bill.” Nico tapped the counter.

“I’m not giving you the discount.” Umi reached under the counter.

“I don’t care. Just give me her drink.” Nico was still watching the redhead ignore her.

“It’ll never work, whatever it is you’re planning, Nico.” Umi poured coffee into a growler sized mug.

Nico put a $20 down, “Keep the change. It’s your charm. Nico is enchanted.”

“Leave.” Umi pointed at the door, but there was a flash of a smile.

Nico took that as a good sign as she took the barrel of coffee to her favorite table and carefully placed it on the small, still clear area just to the left of the redhead’s left elbow, “If you’re going to steal MY seat, at least tell Nico YOUR name.”

It definitely looked like a set, and mostly copied from one of the open books, Maybe Red was a student and just embarrassed to admit it? Nico leaned in a little so she could read the caption, “Isamu Noguchi’s design for Martha Graham’s ‘Appalachian Spring.’” Noguchi?

“Maki Nishikino.” A soft voice, almost silk, almost whispered.

Nico, not actually expecting a response, startled, nearly knocked over the growler. “So not Noguchi.”

“No. He’s a sculptor.” Volume was back and annoyance.

“Nico knows.” Nico snapped.

Maki snorted, “Really. Name a piece.”

Nico cheated a glance at the page, “Ummm…”

Maki, that was a nice name, Nico would remember it, closed the book. “There’s a fountain he designed for the Bicentennial outside the Art Institute, people barely know it was commissioned and completed.”

“Nico will check it out next time she goes, unless you’d like to give me a tour…” Nico had a hand on a chair. Maki reopened the book, finding the page again, picking up another pencil to keep the place.

“Nico!” Kotori’s trill floated in as the Lily White front door opened, “I’m so sorry I’m late. Hi, Umi!”

“You look lovely today, Kotori.” Umi’s happiness boomed. Nico couldn’t help smile at her friends’ mutual enthusiasm for each other.

“Thanks, Umi-chan!” Kotori stepped behind the counter to give Umi a quick kiss.

Nico caught Maki’s eye and shrugged; Maki glanced away, but picked up the growler, “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Maybe next time you’ll leave Nico her favorite seat.”

Maki’s eyes were more multi faceted polished quartz geode than petal, with luster brilliant in the depths. “Nope. Too comfy.” Maki leaned back, stretching her arms and then locking her hands behind her head, smirking.

“Cute.” Nico tapped Maki’s floor plot, “Nico is curious, but busy. So next time, explain.”

“If you remember…” Maki muttered.

“You won’t be Nico’s Noguchi fountain,,,” Yeah, Nico was going to have to work on talking to cute girls again because this was as lame as she’d ever sounded.

But there was a flush. And a fidget as Maki leaned forward again, doodling a small cluster of spirals.

And then Kotori was right there, “Oh hi, Maki. You don’t mind if I steal Nico, do you?”

“Not at all.” A grand gesture with the pencil, “I’m behind schedule.”

Nico felt dismissed, no one ever dismissed Nico like that, or closed a book on her, but she really did need to talk to Kotori, who was eager for a chat, unlike this Maki Nishikino.

So Nico let Kotori lead her to another table, where Nico got so involved in sketches and fabric samples, she didn’t notice when Maki left. ###

6 hour day turned into 10 plus hour day plus more to come. The composer had flown into town to add a new song, to replace a song which Nico had already spent at least three straight days perfecting. But no, now there was a “Fly and Fall” Oberon and Puck duet and Nico was stressed. And hungry. And the food they’d brought in was calories, but it wasn’t comfort. A break was coming up, Nico was backstage waiting for her entrance and she’d snuck out her phone for a whispered call, far away from lurking stage managers.

“Hi there! Lily White. What can I do you for?”

Rin. Ah, this would work. Rin was super friendly super helpful and wouldn’t make Nico beg until she was miserable.

“Rin! It’s Nico! I need caffeine.”

“OOOhhh, Nico emergency.” Rin said that a little loud and Nico almost heard another voice, but then RIn giggled, “What’s up?”

“Five extra hours of rehearsal, at least three more left, no decent coffee, and Nico needs a sugar rush like you wouldn’t believe. Can you please bring me my usual, super duper Nico sized, with a cookie or something, Rin? Nico’s a desperate woman. My break starts in 10 minutes. Meet me in the alley?”

“I’m on it. Something sweet is coming your way. At superspeed.” Rin’s cheerfulness defined contagious.

Nico exhaled, “Thanks, Rin. I knew you wouldn’t let Nico down. I’ll see you soon.” Nico shoved her phone in her pocket before Ari caught her.

Twelve minutes, not the ten Nico had told Rin. Nico ran for the stage door. The thought of warm and sweet and buzzy had gotten her through the last set of notes, which had not been Nico’s most complimentary. Her head was starting to throb. Waiting with a bag and Lily White’s LARGEST cup was not Rin, but Maki, dressed in black shorts too short for the early Autumn weather and an off the shoulder gray cropped sweatshirt, Red Stars cap at a jaunty angle to the right.

“That isn’t healthy.” Maki stated as Nico grabbed the cup out of her hand and swigged. Rin had managed to deliver it at a drinkable temperature. Bless the tiny ginger haired furry. . “Nico has exactly 13 more minutes and then I have to be note perfect on a song I just went so far off key on, Winnetka winced. Nico needs fast.”

“The bran muffin has some substance. And raisins.” Maki looked so serious, her eyes searching Nico’s face, but then Maki pulled the brim of her cap down.

Grumpy. Nico was now grumpy. And sugar deprived. She took another sip as she grumbled. “Nico wanted something cookie cute and sugary. What was RIn thinking?”

Maki shrugged, handing over the bag. Nico decided that as much as she wanted to just find a small closet, scream quietly, and then spend 5 minutes in a fantasy where she sipped coffee while Mindy Kaling pitched a joint project, she could spend a minute, just a minute enjoying the view, since Maki seemed at a loss for what to do next, one arm crossed in front, the other hand playing with a curl. One foot was braced back against the wall and both legs were very toned. Nico still suspected dancer. Nico put the cup down, took out the bran muffin, bit in, and then washed it down with mostly liquified SUGAR COFFEE STRAWBERRY BUZZINESS. Maki raised an eyebrow. Nico’s hand was trembling slightly as the warmth and calories made her realize just how hungry she was.

Nico inhaled, feeling like she go back and face the rest of rehearsal. “This is a big help. Thanks. I didn’t realize Rin was so busy or I wouldn’t have asked.”

Maki shrugged again. Well, Nico thought to herself, this was almost as good as alone, although...her eyes followed the progress of the neckline of Maki’s sweatshirt, which seemed to be slipping even further down her arm, leaving the left shoulder nearly entirely bare. Nico had no idea how that happened. Maki tilted her hat back, humming.

“How’s Martha Graham?” Halfway through her muffin, Nico couldn’t take the silence.

The shorts had pockets and Maki’s hands went there so Nico was forced to appreciate the curvature of the redhead’s hips. Thus she missed the update on Martha Graham.

“And Hanayo’s never done anything on this scale…” The unfamiliar name brought Nico back into the conversation.

“Hanayo?”

“Rin’s girlfriend.”

Oh, Nico thought, the cute mouse with glasses.

“Anyway,” Maki shook herself, refocusing, “She’s never done anything on this scale, but I think the origami’s a good fit for setting up models.”

Origami? Nico was really lost. She’d either have to ask a question or find out from RIn later...as she considered, her phone buzzed. Damn, break over in three minutes. Muffin was gone, Maki was looking at her with confusion, amethyst eyes a little clouded, Nico swigged the rest of the Nico Super Strawbuzzy Special and smiled, “Time to get back to work. Thanks for keeping Nico company. Now you can get back to stealing Nico’s favorite seat.”

Maki chuckled, “Makes my day.”

“Well, one day Nico will get there first.”

“Bet you won’t.” A wink.

Nico tossed a barb over her shoulder as she hopped up the stairs. “Nico believes in fair play. No bets with thieves. ”

Maki cleared her throat, smoothing her hair back behind her ear, her voice hitting the nervous range of high pitch, “Actually, since I’m an investor in Lily White, the chair’s technically mine.”

Nico was about to open the door, but she stopped, raising an eyebrow as Maki mouthed nothing syllables after the dull bragging clang of her sudden announcement.

Nico blinked and decided she didn’t have time for Maki to recover enough composure to speak, “Thanks again. Maki. Tell Rin she saved me.”

Nico saw the embarrassment as Maki flushed, but really had no time left so back into the theatre she went, redhead forgotten, new song the only thought in her head. ###

Nico��s mother refused to acknowledge the “text don’t call” pleas Nico occasionally texting her. She’d turned off her read receipts so there wasn’t even an acknowledgement of delivery. So here Nico was, let out of rehearsal early, actually answering the phone, to get the seasonal ‘where’s my future daughter-in-law’ nudge from her mother.

Nico opened the door to Lily White and waved at Nozomi as she refuted her mother’s arguments, “I”m busy, Mama. I’m a modern woman. We want success. And independence. Nico will get you Obie and Oscar awards you can show off to your friends.”

Nico mother tsked in her ear, “You’ll be happier if you have someone to share your successes with, Nico.”

“There’s you and the kids.” Nico lowered her phone, rolling her eyes to answer Nozomi’s quizzical look, “My mom. My usual, please.”

Nozomi grabbed Nico’s phone, “Hi Mama Yazawa! How are my nearly nieces and nephew?”

Nico glared.

“Bring them by sometime. I miss them too. But we’re almost as busy as Nico here. Although I have a lovely girlfriend.” Nozomi stuck her tongue out and Nico seized her phone back.

“Mama, you’re embarrassing me. I’ll call you tomorrow morning, okay.”

“I want you to be happy, Nico.”

“I know, Mama.” Nico couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice.

Call ended. Nozomi slid the cup Nico’s way, raising her hands innocently when Nico growled, raising a daunting palm. “You say nothing.”

Maki, in a white v neck sweater that looked a size too tight, was still occupying Nico’s preferred seat, playing with what looked like paper versions of Cotaro’s building blocks, so, grumpy, Nico slid into the cornerest booth, and slumped. This was a mood. She should be happy. Free evening because the sound board blew up, but instead disgruntlement prickled at her. Time to share the pain and get some sympathy and attention from her 11K+ loyal TWIG followers.

That’s what live streaming was far. The reality behind the life of a celebrity. The good moments, the low moments, the moments where your mom nagged you for the 520th time since you graduated college three years ago. Holding up her phone, Nico went live, taking a quick sip of her drink as she hit record.

“So how’s your afternoon? Does your mom ever call you to nag about when you’re going to meet the ‘right girl,’ settle down, and have a child? Or two? Just happened to Nico. For the 748th time. Of course, Nico could date. And have the cutest family in the universe. Because Nico’s wife would be even prettier than Nico. So imagine our children.That doesn’t mean you, Mama. You stop imagining them.” Nico shook herself, shaking annoyance off her tense shoulders like wet dog flings off water, “But one, Nico is a career woman, two, the planet’s practically on fire, and three, does anyone have time to date anymore? How do you meet people?” Nico took another sip, then remembered her morning notifications. “Although, remember how Nico set up a profile last month to get in character for Oberon the Love Arrow CEO and FoOLs? Got too busy and forgot to deactivate it, but this morning, Nico found out three cuties swiped right on Nico. Hi cuties!” Nico winked at her phone, “But Nico’s not in dating mode, although if anyone wants to meet my mother and claim they want to be the mother of her grandchildren, Nico might consider it.” A sigh, another sip, “So Nico deactivated that profile...oh my god, is that why Mama called?” Nico almost slammed her phone, of course her mother was stalking her dating profiles, “Mama, if you’re listening…” Nico shook her head, “Anyway, @ Nico with your dating horror stories so we can convince Mama an Obie is the only relationship for Nico. And get your tickets for FoOLs!” Another sip. “Next time, Nico’s giving you a sneak peek of the new song, ‘Fools Swipe In.’” Nico blew a kiss at her screen, her hand going to her temple in the gesture her father taught her “Nico Ni loves you.” Nico put down her phone, slowly and deliberately so she didn’t smash it and looked up. Maki was staring, mouth dropped open, and when she realized Nico was looking in her direction, she twitched, tearing the chair like object in her hand.

Nico winced. Maki frowned, put the pieces down, rubbing above her eyebrow. Nico decided to pry and moved, sliding next to Maki and picking up the torn piece, which was a very intricate piece of origami. Nico was impressed by the craftsmanship.

“Glue probably won’t fix that.” Nico pushed the edges together but the tear was too rough for any kind of repair.

Maki nodded, “At least I haven’t started shooting.”

“Just ripping.”

Nico realized Maki’s sulky pout was a triumph of genetics and personality.

“Joke.” Nico explained, “What is this?”

“Hanayo...” Maki paused.

“Rin’s girlfriend.”

“Right. Hanayo is an art teacher and I’m helping her with a project on famous collaborations by artists across mediums. It’s a short piece based on Graham and Noguchi’s…” Maki hesitated again.

“Fountain guy.”

“Appalachian Spring ballet.” Maki held the torn object in her palm and crumpled it, “This was the chair.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Hanayo’s recreating the set and a dancer. I’m recording the music and animating a minute of stop motion”

“Wow. Nico understands the ruler and the need for precision now. That’s intense. This is just for fun?”

“Well, I’ll probably put the in progress pictures and a video installation in my next show.”

Nico had her phone out and was typing.

“What are you doing? I was talking. That’s rude.” Maki snapped.

“Nico obviously should have Googled you.”

Maki’s hand dropped over Nico’s screen, “No.”

“Why not?” Maki’s fingers were resting on Nico’s hand. It was a nice warmth. Maki glanced away.

“Embarrassing. I’m sitting right here.”

“So you want Nico to stalk you AFTER you leave?”

“No.” Amethyst eyes blinked, “Just ask me.”

“What do you do?”

Maki inhaled, as if she’d prepared this, “I dropped out of med school and spent six months in Japan. Now I work as a musician. And do camera stuff.”

“Do camera stuff?” Nico knew she sounded as incredulous as Maki had sounded ridiculous.

“It’s complicated. You wouldn’t….”

Now Nico was losing her temper. “Nico is a professional actress. People take Nico’s picture all the time, Nico has been in movies, Nico has five up and coming, Sundance approved cinematographers in her frequent contacts. Try me.”

Maki shook her head, but not as a negative, just to get the hair that seemed to be going wilder with every gesture out of her eyes. Then she spoke so quickly Nico had trouble catching every word. “I need to go. I should tell Hanayo I wrecked this. She’ll have to make a replacement. Sorry.” Maki accidentally elbowed Nico as she started to pack up her set in a fishing tackle box.

Nico was surprised by the shakiness of Maki’s hands as she cleared her work area. “Nico is sorry if my live streaming disturbed you.”

“You disturb everyone, Nico-chi.” Nozomi boomed as the line of customers thinned.

Nico flipped her off, then turned to smile at Maki and continue, “Anyway, please apologize to your friend for Nico. I don’t want Rin to get mad at me. She’s the ONLY ONE WHO MAKES MY DRINK RIGHT.”

Nozomi threw a cup in Nico’s direction, which caused another part of Maki’s set to crash.

Nico picked it up, sorrow in her tone. “Tough day to be made of paper.”

Maki laughed. Nico suddenly craved that sound.

###

Nico swept into Lily White, bouncy. Yes, it was late, but opening night was in a week and the writer had finally signed off on all the changes. Now, Nico could focus on getting into the zone. And making sure the seats were packed with an appreciative audience.

“Nico has arrived. Start the party.”

Umi, behind the counter, polishing a copper pitcher, dinged a spoon off the rim. Nico bowed.

“Nico has five tickets for Opening Night. Who wants them?” Nico fanned out the tickets.

“Kotori wants to go but I’m working.” Umi grimaced apologetically.

“Nico will get you seats for the second weekend.”

“Thanks, Nico. Your usual?”

“Nico size it.”

Maki, of course, was in Nico’s seat, and there were almost familiar faces scattered in seats around the room. Some of them glanced up, whispering to their seatmate. Maki was staring intently at a laptop, seemingly not noticing Nico’s announcement or arrival. So Nico grabbed a seat and scooted next to Maki, jarring her.

Maki jumped, then glared at Nico.

“FoOLs! Opening night tickets. How many do you want?”

“None.” Firm.

“Don’t you want to see Nico at work?”

Maki flushed and mumbled something.

“What was that?” Nico leaned in.

“Saturday afternoon. I got a ticket for then.” Maki spoke more clearly, still not looking away from her screen.

Nico raspberried and threw herself back in her seat, “What are you, a grandmother? Nobody under 80 or over 8 goes to matinees.”

“I have Friday plans.” Quick typing.

“OOOhhh, a date?” Nico was a little curious.

“Monthly dinner with my parents.”

“So bring ‘em.” Nico nudged Maki with her shoulder.

Maki stopped typing. “Are you that desperate for an audience? And stop.”

“It’s sold out. These are the hottest tickets in Chicago.” Nico ruffled through them under Maki’s nose, “Nico is just trying to get someone to appreciate them.”

Maki bit her lip, then shook her head, “Mama and Papa don’t like last minute changes.”

“Are they old and crotchety like you?” Why was this such a hard sell?

Maki scrunched her forehead, trying to finish a thought as Nico tapped the tickets next to her keyboard. “Will you leave me alone if I say yes.”

“To the tickets?” This was more like it, Nico leaned forward, ready to claim her victory.

“No. I told you I’m going Saturday.”

“Fine. Be Nico’s grandmother.” Nico didn’t like the screech in her own voice.

Maki glared, eyes narrowed. “Your skirt’s too short, young lady.”

“Nico’s grandmother wears thongs.”

“Why would you make that up?”  Maki's hands covered her face.

Nico smirked, “Who said I made it up.”

Maki scowled at Nico, then spoke slowly, “too much information is an actual thing.”

Nico shrugged.

“Don’t you have any friends?” Maki asked, sounding tired.

Nico slapped a hand to her heart, “Cruel...Nico has friends…” her voice squeaked into a higher register, “Nico has friends in every city, every country, Nico is Ms. Popularity…”

Maki raised an eyebrow.

Nico spoke very very rapidly, “My sister has a field hockey game, Eli has a show, Nozomi is working her other job.”

After a moment, her amethyst eyes unable to hide the kindness surging, Maki reached for the tickets, “Hanayo and Rin would probably appreciate these. Hanayo’s a big theatre fan. I’ll take them with me.”

“Genius. Nico approves. “Take them all.”

“I told you, I’m busy.” Maki actually sounded regretful.

Umi cleared her throat, “Nico!”

Nico pushed the chair back, “Opening night is magic. Your loss.”

Maki barely shook her head as her attention went back to the screen. ###

Nico was excited. She had the afternoon free. Her understudy, who was nowhere near performance ready, not that with Nico she would need to be, was onstage and Nico was meeting a reporter at Lily White in an hour. Now, she just had to perfect her thoughtful, yet flirty, yet aloof, yet sexy coffee sipping pose. Which meant not her usual neon strawberry drink. A mug...Nico picked up the pace. Her outfit was perfect, tailored trousers and a short jacket to give that Oberon flair, the kickiest of kicks, and a pink shirt with a ruffled collar that fell exactly right to boost the impact of her neckline. Hints of what might be there, but to draw attention in a classy, understated way. To pull off understated, Nico was going to have to burn off a volcano’s worth of energy beforehand. She started speedwalking to Lily White. Nozomi was at the counter, Maki, of course, Maki was in NICO’s seat, was she just trying to tick Nico off, fidgeting with her phone.

“Nozomi, get Nico coffee in the most serious mug you have; Maki, get out of Nico’s power seat.”

Both Maki and Nozomi looked suspiciously at Nico.

“No.” Maki stated, stubborn etched into her posture.

“Really? No strawbuzzy?” Nozomi asked, pulling out the strawberry muddle, with a mournful look.

“Really.” And Nico slid into the bench seat next to Maki and shoved the redhead over with her hip.

“Hey!” Maki shouted, her phone dropping out of her hand.

“Look, Nico has exactly,” Nico grabbed Maki’s phone to look at the time, the screensaver was some kind of cartoon, “53 minutes to perfect her sipping coffee pose and this seat has the best backdrop.” Nico pointed up at the raw texture of the wallpaper behind her, a lovely watercolor of sakura blossoms to the left of Maki’s seat. “So please, just this once…”

“I’m comfortable.” Maki slid down the bench, turning away.

Nico stared, but the redhead wouldn’t make eye contact, twirling a curl.

“Fine.” Nico shoved Maki’s phone across the table at her, “Nico will take a window seat. But if the Reader article isn’t aglow with Nico’s the greatest, you will be depriving Chicago of the truth, Maki Nishikino.”

Maki turned at her name, as Nico stood. Nozomi had a mug ready, Nico grabbed it, sniffed, gagged, and pushed the mug back at Nozomi, “Dump half of that. Nico’s too sweet for so much bitter.” Nico glowered at Maki in a way that was meant to indicate WHO the bitter was actually in reference too.

Maki made a huffing noise, Nozomi did as ordered, saving rebellion for the snark in her tone, “Should I kick out ALL my customers for you Nico-chi?”

“As I say to you every day I see you, don’t be a bitch. You know Nico takes her image seriously. Some people,” Nico spared a glance and a dubious eyebrow in Maki’s direction, but the spike in her well thought out plan was totally absorbed in her phone. Nico sighed, pouring cream into the mug when Nozomi returned it. Nico opted for the window seat with the good lighting, smiling at everyone in the coffeeshop who wasn’t Maki before she sat down. Then pull out her phone, to try various poses with the mug, leaning back, leaning forward, poetically thoughtful out the window, musing with the melancholy air weighting a bemused smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Maki typing like a fiend. Today, the redhead was wearing a criminally cute t-shirt with a graffiti cat scrawling RAAAWWWRRR across the torso. Nico’s brain briefly and suprisingly went somewhere involving ‘RAW’ and Maki but then Nico reminded herself that she was TOTALLY focused on her career and Maki was purposely ANNOYING so probably not into Nico. Not that Nico cared. At all. Nico kicked herself. This was too important to get distracted. She was here to think about Nico not...just think about Nico. Shouldn’t be hard. Nearly everyone did it. Nico shifted, so she couldn’t catch a glimpse of anyone out of the corner of her eye and thought aloof thoughts.

###

14 minutes and Nico still hadn’t struck a mood. Maybe she should just get a Nico Deluxe and go for cutesy. But that wasn’t Oberon....Nico knew for the interview to be effective she had to shade her native Nico exuberance with some of Oberon’s dark draw. Her phone pinged. She took it out of her pocket. Text from an unknown number, a picture of someone sipping coffee from a cup, in an open window, pensive, leaning forward, then another pic, of a classic Hollywood actress slouching back, obviously lost in a mental loop and staring blankly, over the coffee cup held in both her hands, then another, of an actress with shortish, dark hair, coffee cup raised, eyes challenging, lips tensed, a dare smashed into a sneer...then a text, “For inspiration: Cate Blanchett, Barbara Stanwyck, Natalie Wood...but I think you’re doing all right.”

And then it was a picture of Nico, taken outside the window, just a few minutes ago, Nico with one hand tracing the rim of the cup, the other tapping her phone, the angle just right to catch the sharpness of Nico’s profile. The through the window perspective added a veneer of solitude and Nico’s mouth was quirked up at the corner, a wry ambiguity lurking, without losing the sense of sharpness. Nico had never seen herself look that...smart, like she didn’t need to aspire to mysterious deeps, she was already flooded with them.

Another text. “Rin just gave me your number so I could send the picture. I’ll delete it if you want. Don’t worry about the interview. You’ll be fine.”

One more text.

“Oh, this is Maki.”

Nico giggled. Then she realized if Maki had taken the picture from outside...Nico bounced to her feet, “Nicosize the Strawberry Special and deliver it to Nico’s usual seat.” Nico slid into her space, a light hint of rose, vanilla, pepper, and musk perfume lingering. Nico sneezed.

“Bless you.” Nozomi put down the oversized cup, “I knew you’d cave. Get some good news?”

Nico glanced at her phone, “Yes.”

Nozomi was about to ask, but the door opened and a cluster of customers came in.

Nico took that moment to type a quick reply.

N: Thanks for the advice (｡◝‿◜｡) Keep Nico’s number. I might need to consult you again.

M: ∑(ﾟﾛﾟ〃)

N: ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

M: I’m too busy to consult.

N: Are you too busy for dinner some Monday?

M: Monday? Why Monday?

N: Day off. Theatre.

M: Oh. You’re welcome.

N: ?

M: For the snap.

N: Oh.

M: See you around.

Nico frowned at her phone. “See you around.” That wasn’t “yes, let’s go out to dinner” or even “I’d love to, but I’m busy” What was Maki? Dizzy? Disinterested? Dating? Nico typed in her passcode to get to the ‘snap’ Maki had taken. For once, Nico was staring at herself, but looking for someone else. That picture, the one of the photographer, hadn’t come into focus yet. Nico had no idea what insight she’d lost by not looking up.

###

OPENING NIGHT. EVERY NOTE, EVERY STEP, EVERY SONG PERFECT; EVERY AUDIENCE MEMBER on their feet at the end. Nico thought standing ovations were overdramatic, but not when she’d sensed the emotion building all night, the tension, and as the curtain fell on her final kiss with Tansy, an exasperated Puck rolling their eyes as they clapped their way off the stage, the audience exploded. And Nico, sweating, heart racing, bounced to her feet, hugging Tansy, “We did it! We did it! We did it!”

Tansy laughed, and broke the hug, pulling Nico off stage, “Come on, curtain call. More applause.”

“Oh right.” Nico felt taller than she ever had, veins buzzing with earned confidence, heart racing, unable to keep a huge grin off her face as the other couples stepped forward to receive their applause and then she and Tansy stepped out, holding hands, raising their arms to a roar. It was a small theatre and the theatre was packed with Queer Chicago and their allies, friends, and families and Nico had never felt so much love from a crowd. It was amazing, to be here, in a love story, a simple, silly love story, with no real villain, just mischief and magic and hope and happy endings. Angst could stay home. Or be spilled across the stage in other, darker theatres. Tonight, Nico was thrilled to be a moment of bright for so many girls like her, who wanted silly and cute and perfect swoony snappy patter pairings.

Nico would remember this forever, staring into a theatre, amazed, exhausted, exhilirated, audience on their feet, whistling, roaring, and cheering as the curtain fell. Tansy grabbed her in a quick hug, her voice lacking Titania’s teasing barbs, “You were amazing, Nico. I’m so glad we’re doing this together.”

Nico wasn’t quite ready to let Oberon go for the night yet, and swept into a bow as she took Tansy’s hand to kiss, “I couldn’t do this alone.”

Tansy giggled, “Actually, you probably could.”

Nico wasn’t sure how to reply and then Demtrius and Lysander sandwiched her in another hug, Sumi reached over Nico’s shoulders to half choke, half embrace the soon to be toast of Chicago.

“It’s a Nico Nico Night.” Luz choked Nico for another half second and then let go. “Where’s the party?”

“Back room at The Lady Of The Lake.” Tansy was taking off her wig, “Blaine’s buying the first round.”

“As a good producer should.” Either Lysander or Demetrius spoke. Though they were on the opposite sides of the complexion color spectrum, Nico had always thought they’d been cast because their voices sounded so similar, which made the phone confusion and the shouting chase scene in the bar so much more convincing.

“Let Nico get out of this tux.” She took off her jacket, undid the bowtie, with its ruby flecks scattered across the midnight silk and undid almost all of the studs on her shirt, so it fell open, revealing her sports bra. Thankfully, no one had insisted a binder. Nico preferred being able to breathe while singing.

Humming “fools,” Nico stepped into the hallway leading to the green room. As soon as she turned right, she heard her name in a familiar voice.

“C’mon, you have to say hi to Nico. She was amazing. You’re supposed to tell actors that Maki. Or bring them roses or something. C’mon.”

Rin’s voice. Did she say Maki? Maki was supposed to be at a monthly dinner with her parents. But no, there was the ginger furry pulling her reluctant friend down the hall by the arm, what was Maki wearing? A little black dress, off the shoulder, very very short, red hair swept up into a tight French twist, lacy shawl lying across her pale shoulders, one hand twisted up in a fist that looked about to connect with Rin, legs splayed out as Maki stubbornly fought Rin’s forward momentum. Nico laughed, deciding to intervene before a brawl started.

“Rin! Maki! You came. Wasn’t Nico glorious?”

Maki froze and let go of Rin, Rin shot forward into Nico’s chest, knocking them both off balance, Hanayo who had been half hiding behind Maki, squeaked and hurried forward, “Rin, are you okay?”

Maki was still frozen, staring at Nico’s chest, then her eyes, Maki's own wide with panic, Maki made her discomfort even more obvious by twisting rapidly to the side, guilt splashed across her face, shawl sliding off her shoulder, hand trying to find a twist of hair to curl, but hovering uncertainly, not wanting to undo the updo. Hanayo was busy with Rin, and Maki kept glancing at Nico out of the corner of her eye. Nico, taking bold strides past the rising Rin, grinned and with her most daredevil spark, spoke to the shrinking redhead, “So no roses for Nico, how about a kiss?”

Rin started to say something, but Nico heard Hanayo shush her. Maki went bright red as Nico put a hand on her arm, spinning her, sliding fingers up to the shoulder, “Such a pretty dress. For Nico?”

“Mama and Papa say...always dress for the theatre….shows respect.” Maki was speaking, chunking partial sentences into an avalanche of nerves, but her eyes never left Nico’s,

“Nico feels respected.” Nico stepped closer, feeling Maki tense, take a deep breath, which drew Nico’s attention to the teardrop diamond sitting in the break of Maki’s cleavage, the dress accenting the very noticeable curves. Nico had to stop her fingers from tracing a line down from Maki’s shoulders, “How about Nico feeling loved?”

Complete panic and a step back. Nico would have laughed, but Maki was moving away, and Nico’s sole focus was not letting there be a gap between them. She managed to catch Maki’s elbow and the taller woman didn’t shake her off.

“That kiss? Didn’t you like Nico’s performance?” Nico pulled Maki in, reading the sparking, sliding quartz of her eyes for a mood. Nico was phenomenal at reading audiences and this one didn’t want Nico to step off stage yet.

Maki nodded, eyes going more wild with every breath, voice a breathy whisper, “Every note...I just wanted you…” flushed cheeks, so cute Nico found herself thinking, “to keep going.”

That sounded like a cue to Nico. Nico touched Maki’s cheek with the gentlest of caresses, grinning when gorgeous and ____________ leaned into her hand, “Can I? Keep going?”

Maki’s eyelashes fluttered in almost slo mo as Nico’s heart raced into fast forward. Such a delicate mood, neither party daring even a breath to shatter its purity.

Then before Nico knew she’d pushed forward, Maki’s lips were tickling hers, a taunting tingle , and the urge to bite, to brush harder, to melt that dare into consent, Nico had never been so caught before, so tempted to...Maki pulled back, with a whimper, Nico realized her hand was on Maki’s hip, and the hard angles of her amethyst eyes had softened, insecurity and worry shadowing the temptations in their depths.

“My parents are waiting...you said...no dating...I have to go...sorry...you were amazing...I’m…”

As Maki frantically backpedaled, Nico had the impression of something beautiful and delicate, fluttering, letting a doubting breeze sweep it into the harshness of the open air, instead of here, every twitch, every gesture, a stroke against Nico, the magnetism almost burning.

“Maki.” Nico snapped the name, serious.

Maki bent her head, breaking eye contact, then straightened to her full height, “No one in the audience could take their eyes off you, Nico.”

That didn’t thrill Nico as much as she knew it should. “What about you?”

Maki’s jaw clenched, then she looked away, flushed, her next words only a whisper but the wonder in them was a crystal note. “I’ve never been able to look away.”

Nico took Maki’s chin and turned her back to face Nico, “Good.”

At some point Hanayo had dragged Rin away, Nico had no idea how long they’d been there, talking, almost unaware of how often they were touching, except for the urge to get closer. Maki was still, waiting, and Nico knew this was the moment, and double down with an honesty and an earnestness she’d never allowed herself to admit to. “Not dating doesn’t include you.”

Suddenly Maki giggled, “If you buttoned up your shirt, it’d be easier to take you seriously.”

Nico ripped off her shirt, remaining studs flying off who knew where. The costumer was going to kill her, “Buttoned up Nico isn’t what you really want.”

Maki, laugh lines crinkling, reached down and picked up Nico’s shirt, “Put it back on before my parent’s come looking for me.”

“Not until…” Nico pounced, hands sliding up Maki’s warm, smooth shoulders, fingers tangling in the twist starting to untwine, this kiss a fire melting away anything not touching Nico.

Sometime in a new, brighter future, Nico’s forehead was pressed against Maki’s, “Come to my cast party.”

Maki, all of her shyness suddenly transformed into a teasing confidence that was sexier than anything Nico had ever known existed, let her arms rest on Nico’s shoulder, “I would but I have plans to see a matinee tomorrow. There’s this actress….and she’s so…” Maki let her voice drag out in a breathy, sexy drawl, “e x t r a.”

“Nico will get you home early.” Another kiss, another twist of tenderness and territorialness, another moment where Maki pushed Nico like she couldn’t get close enough, eyes closed, but then when they opened suddenly, Nico had the only view she wanted. “But you shouldn’t look this windblown, undone, Nico can’t keep her hands off you sexy when you meet my mother.”

“And you should wear a shirt.” Maki snorted, before seizing a kiss of her own.

“Just for the cast party and the El and then we’ll talk.”

Maki shrugged, her hands trying to redo the Twist, “Optimist.”

“That’s not fixable. You’ll just have to tell your parents you can’t keep your hands off Nico.”

“I sent them home.” Maki glanced at her smart watch, “40 minutes ago.”

“Optimist.”

“Yep.”

“Nico likes that.” Nico slid her arm through Maki’s.

“Maki likes Nico.”

“And Nico likes Nico. So we agree.” Nico loved letting the teasing lilt edge her voice and seeing Maki’s eyebrow quirk in a challenge.

“Going to be Narcissus in your next play?” Maki bit back.

“Not now that I’ve seen you.” Nico pulled Maki closer.

Maki’s blush was adorable and sexy and Nico wanted to see how much of Maki she could get to redden, but right now, arm through Maki’s, pushing open the door of the Green Room, grinning at a Tansy on the way out and feeling Maki bump against her hip, right now, Nico was going to have the prettiest date at the cast party, to go with the perfectest performance of the year. Maybe Mama was right. Success shared certainly seemed sweet enough for Nico. And Maki's lips held Nico’s newest favorite taste.

A/N: Happy Birthday, Nico! Present wrapped, now I can get back to the chapters I owe myself.

A Midsummer Night's Dream has opened, I'm exhausted, and the actors are amazing. 5 more shows.Thanks for reading and leave a comment, please and thank you. Nico would want you to ; )

Also, some day there will be written a play, with a title 5 letters long, starting with an F, ending with an s, and you will recognize the characters, although the names may be changed. Right now, I have two possibilities: Fangs! and FoOLs! Any suggestions for a third?

[cobblepot-comfort]

The Rescue - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Oswald and Jim Discuss the Future

Jim had always known that Oswald was fragile emotionally, a fact he kept concealed inside a hard shell.  The notoriously ruthless, tough spirited gangster who could survive any amount of physical punishment and think - and fight - his way out of any dangerous, tricky situations, had become an expert at surviving and climbing.  He’d had to be, or he would have been sure to get trampled underfoot by the mobsters and henchmen he’d rubbed shoulders with.

He had seen Oswald’s vulnerability in his eyes the very first time they had met.

Sure, he’d been beating hell out of some poor bastard with a baseball bat - but that had been expected of him, after all, hadn’t it?  He had had to prove how ruthless he could be in front of Fish Mooney’s goons.  He’d been invited and encouraged in the activity by that side kick of hers, Butch Gilzean.

He had been far too eager to please and had rather overcompensated, but he had clearly wanted to make a good impression.  And that was just what he did - literally and metaphorically.  

Kill or be killed, that was the kind of world Gertrud Kapelput’s precious boy had gotten himself involved in.  He wasn’t sure how he’d got employed by Fish Mooney as her ‘umbrella boy’, and he wasn’t inclined to ask him.  The past was the past, as Oswald was often telling him when he'd attempted to apologise for yet another transgression he'd committed.

And it wasn’t as if the guy he was beating hadn’t been caught with his hands in the till beforehand….

Yep, Jim was smitten all right.  He’d always make excuses for Oswald.  But, after all, didn’t Oswald always make excuses for him, too?

He’d not been slow in administering physical punishment to get information and co-operation.  He used violence and threatening behaviour, turning to his brute strength,  to get what he wanted when mere words failed to get results.  He’d used that kind of force on Oswald more than once too. 

He’d since tried to apologise, promised that he would do his best to make up for it - and he now made a point of behaving like a gentleman towards him all the time -  but Ozzy hadn’t admonished him once over his previous bad treatment.  In fact, Oswald was very good at showing Jim’s guilt trips the door in his own inimitable way.

"Tsk, don’t be silly, James,” he’d said dismissively, cutting Jim’s anxious speech dead with a casual wave of his hand.  “As I keep telling you - constantly, Detective, the past is the past as far as I’m concerned.  And as I also never tire of repeating, you were just doing your job, as I was mine.  Please,  don’t give it a second thought.  Now, James honey - why don't you just ravish me if you're so determined to make amends….you know much I appreciate that..." 

That was an invitation Jim could never refuse.

He didn’t think he would ever really deserve Oswald.  Luckily, Oswald didn't seem to realise it.

Earlier, after Jim had driven them both home following their last goodbye to Gertrud, they had been sitting quietly on the sofa, just bathing in the comfort of each other's presence.  Then the silence was broken:

“What?”  Jim quizzed, gazing at Oswald curiously.

“What do you mean ‘what’, James?”

“You just gave me - well, a look -  and I’m not sure what you meant by it.”

“Ah.  Hmmmm.  You noticed." 

Oswald giggled nervously. 

"Hey, what's the matter?" Jim asked, reaching out and running his finger down Oswald's arm.

 "Well, Jim - um, promise you won't laugh....”

“Of course I won’t, sweetheart.”  Jim’s touch slid down to Oswald's hand and he held it fast.

“Well, then - it was that man, the one who had that young child with him - a boy.  We drove past them on the way here.  Did you see them?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I remember.  I think the boy was his son.  He was carrying him on his  shoulders, and they were both laughing.”

“Yes, yes Jim, that’s who I mean.  A father and son.  They looked so happy!”

“Yes, they did, didn’t they?”  Jim smiled.  “So - what was it about them that caught your attention, Ozzy?”

“Well,  just after we passed them, and I had noticed them, I was compelled to look at you, and I was overcome with a feeling I never experienced before.  It was a strange sensation, but it was warm, and it felt good.  That's why I looked at you the way I did, and then again just now, as I remembered it, with the feeling and expression I can't explain.”

“Ah.”  Jim’s smile grew, and he gave Oswald's hand a squeeze.

“What, Jim?”

“Wow.”  Jim shook his head slowly.  “Ozzy - I think I might have an explanation for this!”

"Do you?  Then can you please explain it to me, James?”"

Jim's deep blue gaze focused fondly on his lover's  bemused face.

“Ozzy,” he said gently,  “I actually think you might be getting - well - a bit on the broody side!”

“Broody?  What?  Me? Jim, be serious!  I mean, really.   I’ve never, ever thought about having children.  In fact, whenever I have had the misfortune to cross paths with any, I have always seen them as a nuisance!” Oswald protested, wrinkling his nose with distaste.

Then he saw Jim’s expression, and instantly felt remorseful.

“Look, Jim,” he said apologetically, straightening his face,  “I don’t mean to be insensitive.  I’m just being honest with you….”

“Yeah, I know, Ozzy.  I know you might say you don’t want kids, but  - well,  listen, sweetheart.  I’ll let you in on a little secret, and this time you’ve gotta promise ME not to laugh."

"Of course, Jim. I wouldn’t do that to you.  And I'm sorry to respond so insensitively.   I can see this matter is important to you.”

"Thanks.  And it's ok, Ozzy.  It’s better that we’re honest and open with each other.   And now I’m going to be honest and open with you.  This is something I never told anyone, and I trust YOU not to think I’m being ridiculous.   Anyway - Lee and I discussed having kids once or twice, when we were getting on a lot better, a while ago.  You know, me coming home, her being there  with our kids, a cosy little family.  And yet, no matter how  I tried,  I just couldn’t visualise that scene.   That was one of the things that drove us apart in the end.   But, Ozzy - whenever I look at you, I can DEFINITELY see us having kids together.”  Jim bit his lip, broke into an awkward boyish grin, and his cheeks became tinged with pink.  

“Awww.  Really, Jim?”  Oswald arched his black brows with amazement. "You can see us at home, all comfy cosy - two dads and our kids running round us - a family?"

“Yep, Ozzy.  I’m sure of it.  You know that time you cried out ‘I want your babies’ when we were making love?  Although I responded with something like  'what the hell?'  and then we laughed it off, well, when I had time to think about it, I realised that I really could see you as a dad - even a birth dad!”    Jim chuckled shyly.

“A birth dad?!  Hmmm.  That is impossible though, isn’t it, Jim?  Men don't - and can’t - have babies, can they?" Oswald pondered, knitting his brows thoughtfully.

“Well, true - not at the moment, anyway.  But Ozzy - remember, this is Gotham, and in this city, anything is possible, isn't it?  Never say never!” Jim shrugged, smiling hopefully.

“Well, there, you do have a point,” Oswald acknowledged, cocking his head and smiling back.  “But, seriously, Jim,” he probed,  “do you really think we could be - well, parents?  The two of us, especially given this situation we find ourselves in?”

“Yes, I do, sweetheart - despite everything - or even,  because of it.  And I think that, deep down, you kinda feel that way too.”

“Oh.  Hmmm.”  Oswald pursed and stretched his lips as he reflected on what Jim had said for a moment.

 “Well,”  he resumed, nodding slowly and stretching his jet brows thoughtfully, “now you come to mention it, Jim - having children together - even in the biological sense -   isn't beyond the realms of possibility.  After all - I love you and you love me,  and we owe it to my mother, and your parents, to give them grandchildren, don’t we?  And why else would I have looked at you like that, and had that reaction?  I suppose, subconsciously,  I must be feeling a little ‘broody’, as you put it.  And that is no bad thing when you love someone as deeply as I love you.”  

Oswald locked gazes with Jim and his dimples grew.   There was a twinkle deep within his eyes.

“Awwww.  That’s - well, beautiful, Ozzy.  And I’m so relieved to hear you say out loud what I hoped you felt, you know, about kids and all.   You’ve made me so happy.  And - sweetheart, when you say those things - and look at me like that - I know that nothing is impossible."

“Ahhh, James.  As ever, you melt my heart with your honeyed words.  We need to explore this matter further - and soon.   But...Jim, however we achieve it, I agree wholeheartedly that we should give my mother..and your parents, too, of course...grandchildren.  The more I think about it, the more it occurs to me that it really does make perfect sense ...”

“Ah, sweetheart - so now you’ve thought about it, do you really want to have kids with me, at some point?”

“Yes, Jim.  Of course I do.  I love you, and I would really  love us to have a family.  But first, I would want to make sure we both ensured a safe haven for our children.  A Gotham where they would feel safe and protected.  Free to walk the street without the likes of the Galavans and their ilk threatening their lives, as well as threatening to destroy all that’s around them.  Do you agree?”

“Yes Ozzy.  Of course I agree.”

“And - now I’ve thought about it -  I would carry your children gladly, dear, I would love to think of your child growing inside my belly, if it became possible.   But in the meantime, I would be willing to adopt a child, or maybe even more than one, who we could give a home to - who we could love and protect.”  

Oswald’s eyes suddenly lit up with excitement.

“Oh, Jim, maybe I could even open an orphanage - in my mother’s name!  It would be the perfect tribute to her - what do you think?”

“Well, I think that’s a great idea, Oz.  But as you said, we both need to work to ensure  a safe city for our future family - wherever, and whoever they happen to come from."

Jim gently laid his hand on his belly. Oswald gasped with surprise.

“I know you would make a great birth dad, if you are ever given the chance, Ozzy," Jim continued.  "And we would give our kids so much love!  I’ll hold you to your offer, Mr Cobblepot,  if it ever becomes feasible for men to give birth - safely -  in this city."

Oswald put his hand over Jim's, holding it firmly in place.

"That was so poetically expressed, my dear, again you don't fail to warm my heart.   I hope one day I will get the opportunity to keep my promise, I know now that they weren’t just empty words said in the heat of passion, I really meant them.  And oh Jim, we couldn't fail to have the prettiest kids with you as their father.  You with your boyish good looks."

"And you, with your beauty and brains in their genes, means we definitely couldn't fail.  Awww Ozzy, you're perfect.  I would love to see them  inherit your eyes ...and those dimples.  Little duplicate Cobblepots….running everywhere…."

"Causing mayhem, no doubt," Oswald cut in with a chuckle.  “If they are anything like me!”

"I am sure you were a very well-behaved child,” Jim argued with a smile.  “I was a real tearaway when I was a boy, so they might well be little troublemakers if they take after me!  But anyway, sweetheart -  however they start out,  I’m sure they will grow up to be real pillars of the community.  Maybe they’ll even go into politics!"

"Slow down, Jim, you're going too fast!"  Oswald laughed. "Anyway,” he continued more solemnly,  “however they turn out, we will love them, won't we?"

"Of course we will. How could I not love them with your blood running through their veins?"

"James - dearest!  I swear you get profounder by the second…and thank you….I love you so much.”  

Some time later, as Oswald and Jim prepared to take on the Galavans and rescue Bruce Wayne from their murderous clutches:

"Oswald, please, put on the bullet proof vest!" Jim pleaded, as they all prepared to go into battle.

"Jim, honestly! You know I am virtually indestructible…." Oswald retorted impatiently.

"Ozzy, please, don’t argue…."

"Geez, you two," cut in Harvey with exasperation.  "We can’t stand round here arguing while Galavan gets away with killing the son of Gotham. Put on the damn vest already and let’s go!"

"Thanks Harv," Jim murmured gratefully as Oswald reluctantly put on his armour, grumbling under his breath. Jim hoped fervently that he would never need it, but, better safe than sorry.

He would never forgive himself if the King of Gotham - his precious Oswald - was harmed.

Jim knew he would kill to save Oswald if he had to.  He wouldn't hesitate….

[thegreenfairy13]

Dog Sitter Part 13 - A Bad Plan

A Gobblepot fanfic. When Oswald loses his dog Ed, Jim Gordon finds it and does an excellent job when it comes to taking care of the mobster’s furry friend. Read it on Ao3 here.

Thank you @mexican-texican for correcting my numerous mistakes and @butterfliesandresistance for holding my hand every week when I’m freaking out over my writing <3! 

Oswald knows Jim will not come running to him, flowers in his hand, breaking down and declaring his undying love.

The Captain isn’t going to simply change sides and play for the dark forces all of a sudden, even if he admittedly has deep feelings for the King of Gotham. Because ultimately, James Gordon still divides the world into light and dark, good and evil.

And Oswald Cobblepot is evil. He himself won’t deny it. After all, he cooked his step-siblings, murdered in cold blood as well as out of rage. He has manipulated and tricked people, and he’ll continue doing so.

In fact, he already does. But this time, Oswald isn’t certain his machinations will work out in his favor. This time, he isn’t playing for money or power. No, he’s trying to win over the Captain’s heart, a heart that is almost lost already.

At first, Oswald hadn’t even noticed how dire the situation was. After kissing Jim and seeing his apartment, the mobster had been certain Harvey was exaggerating. Sure, the man had not been well.

But outright suicidal? Oswald Cobblepot would have died denying Jim Gordon could ever stop fighting for Gotham.

In his eyes, the man only needed a little nudge in the right direction. Just a slight disillusionment, a wake-up call that would make Jim see how the world isn’t only black and white and never truly would be. And how it is, despite everything, still worth fighting for.

He wanted to make him believe that his promise of changing the city had not only been empty words but a vow. He wanted to convince Jim how he could become his moral compass as he could become Jim’s most effective weapon in his war for justice.

His plan had been to show Jim how he had been another man’s moral compass before, how he already improves the city on a daily basis.

His heart had been pure when hatching the plan. Well, as pure as the heart of a murderer could be. Besides, he’s not some deluded serial killer who runs around finding victims for the sake of cutting a throat. Sometimes, needs must. It’s as simple as that.

Of course, his plan had backfired. Or Oswald had simply not thought it through. That becomes horrifyingly obvious when squinting at Jim’s pale, shaking figure beside him.

The Captain of the GCPD is currently driving Oswald Cobblepot and Harvey Bullock through the streets of Gotham. Mouth pressed into a thin line, he keeps glancing at rear mirror.

Bullock squirms uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Are you alright?” he asks for the about hundredth time, looking suspiciously at his friend.

Harvey sighs long and deeply. “Told you already buddy, I’m fine. You and your little gangster arrived just in time before I would have had to get some brand-new kneecaps.”

Jim nods tersely. “I’ll drop you off at your place?” he asks.

Reaching over from the backseat, Harvey puts a consoling hand onto Jim’s shoulder. “Are you sure you are alright?” he inquires skeptically.

“Of course, of course,” the Captain replies distractedly.

Bullock still looks quizzically at his friend. “There are no hard feelings?” he wants to know and Jim shakes his head again.

Oswald feels bad for Jim. Gripping his cane tightly, he looks away from the other man’s profile. Not because he wouldn’t still be handsome or desirable, quite the contrary, there isn’t much Oswald wants more than Jim Gordon. Yet he looks so goddamn exhausted, it’s physically painful to watch him even for a moment longer.

And it’s Oswald’s fault.

“And there are really no hard feelings?” Harvey asks again and Jim shakes his head in annoyance.

“Of course not,” he says, mustering a wide smile for his friend.

Finally leaning back, Bullock seems to relax.

“If anything, I haven’t really been a good friend,” Jim carries on. “You should have told me, Harv,” he says, flashing his colleague a severe stare over the mirror.

“Jim, I really had it under control,” the other man defends himself. “Just, this night... it got a bit outta hand.” The cop laughs uneasily. “Could we rather not…” he trails off, nodding towards the kingpin.

Jim’s grip around the steering wheel tightens and he almost lets it slide. “I knew you had a drinking problem,” he says instead. “I knew you went to prostitutes now and then. I knew that’s why you had financial troubles…”

“Honestly, Jim. I’d rather we won’t unpack that in front of him,” the other cop bellows.

“And why the fuck not?” Jim barks back. “He already knows more than me! And I’m your best friend. But you made me just team up with the crime-lord of Gotham to bail you out of a  Chinese gambling den ‘cause you managed to lose 50 grand in one night! And I didn’t even know!”  

“Because I didn’t want you to!” he hollers back. “Jim, really. You know I’m no saint.”

“How did that work until tonight?” he presses. “Did you run to Oswald whenever anything went wrong?” Gritting his teeth, Jim takes a sharp turn to the right.

“So you’re calling him Oswald now?”

“It’s his goddamn name!”

Closing his eyes, the gangster in question tries to tune out their bickering. Earlier this evening, he had practically forced Gordon on his doorstep. And now he’s paying the price. He should have expected that bringing the Captain low again would do more harm than good.

It had started with Harvey losing some money at a gambling den, which in itself wasn’t unusual. The only unusual thing tonight had been the kingpin’s refusal to pay for his debts immediately. Instead, when Harvey had called, he had told Butch to inform the cop he wouldn’t be available.

Bullock had lost a fairly big amount but nothing the kingpin wouldn’t have been willing to cover in return for valuable intel. But tonight, he had decided he wanted Jim to come to his place, begging for his friend's life.

He had known it was an amount Jim wouldn’t be able to cover, an amount Harvey could not simply borrow from the evidence room. With Bruce Wayne currently gone from Gotham, Jim had practically no other option but turning to Oswald Cobblepot when Harvey ultimately called him for help.

After all, not even hero-cop Jim Gordon can take on two dozen heavily armed gangsters and expect to get his friend out alive. So when Harvey had asked him for help, Jim had no other choice but to cut away another piece of his dignity and go to the Penguin for help.

In his imagination, Oswald had pictured Jim coming to him somewhat romantic. He would have told him about his friend in need and he would have been happy to help, showing him in the process how utterly selfless he could be.

Meanwhile, he could have taught Jim a lesson on people not being simply good or evil. He would have shown the cop how he had improved Harvey’s character. He would have told him about the times the other man used to work for, and with Fish Mooney, and how far he had been willing to go back then and how often he had broken the law in the good old times.

Yet, there had been nothing romantic about the broken man turning up on his doorstep. The old Jim, the man who would bark orders or slam the Penguin against walls had been wiped out, replaced by a hollow ghost.

He hadn’t even denied what had happened the last time they met. “I know what it looks like,” Jim had started before explaining to Oswald everything he already knew. “I know it must seem to you I’m….”

“Whoring yourself out?” Zsasz had supplied unhelpfully from the door.

Oswald had practically jumped at hearing his subordinate’s voice. He hadn’t even noticed the assassin eavesdropping. The King of Gotham had hardly ever been more enraged. If not for Jim, he would have strangled the other man with his bare hands. Instead, he smiled tightly and merely gestured for Victor to leave immediately. There would be consequences, though.

“Exactly that,” Jim had confirmed, looking Oswald straight in the eye. Outwardly, he seemed completely calm. The mobster hadn’t missed how his mouth twitched nervously.

“My dear, old friend,” he exclaimed consolingly. “I would never think anything this abhorrent about you.”

“You rather should,” he replied while Oswald opened his safe, gathering the needed money.

The entire time, Jim had been silent, meek. At this point, hearing him scream in the car is almost consoling. At least it shows there’s still some life left in the Captain. Oswald had forced Jim to debase himself again instead of making the intended progress.

It seems like everything Oswald loves burns to ashes. So far, he has at least managed to keep his son safe from his poisonous touch.

It had been Martin, his sweet, clever son, who had opened his eyes. Sadly, he hadn’t been able to see anything.

Three days ago, his boy had told him that he had found a new friend. Martin had been nervous about it, fearing his dad, his co-conspirator, would not understand. But Oswald had been thrilled and overjoyed that his son had finally found a kid of his own age to share his interests with.

Knowing all too well what loneliness and poverty feel like, Oswald only ever wanted for his child to be happy. Martin deserves everything he wants - including, of course, mutuals.

Martin’s new friend’s name is Henry. His son had invited this kid to sleep at the Van Dahl mansion because he wanted to show him the new puppy and play video-games all night. The mobster had been nervous about having another child at his home but he had agreed.

And then his boy had told him his friend’s parents were moving into a new home. Henry was annoyed by his mom cleaning their old flat vigorously.

Obviously, if you plan on leaving a place forever, you should always leave it behind in a pristine state.

At that moment, he finally understood what Jim cleaning his own apartment meticulously indeed meant.

Oswald originally thought it had been a sign of Harvey exaggerating and Jim still having his life under control. He had started to doubt that when Martin told him about his new friend. And now he knows Bullock had been right all along, Jim simply keeps his apartment clean for his colleagues who will inevitably have to clean up after him once he’s gone for good.

Harvey must know it’s the worst possible moment for Jim to find out about his friend’s personal troubles, too. His mental health had been spiraling south in the last couple of weeks. The Penguin hadn’t noticed and Bullock had been unable to do anything about it.

Coming back from his musings, the mobster tries to be nonchalant about it. “Honestly, Jim. It’s not such a big deal. We all got to keep our teeth. Especially Harvey,” he jokes lamely while pondering if putting his hand on the Captain’s arm would be a good idea.

Jim stares at him with a blank expression. “Yeah, we’re a great team,” he drawls sarcastically. “The two dirty cops and the gangster who always helps them out.”

For a moment, Oswald dares to hope the man has finally come around.

“I’m really just another crooked cop,” he huffs instead and the mobster's shoulders slump.

“Jim,” he starts gently. “We have done that before. Playing a bit beside the rules for the greater good.” The other man doesn’t reply.

Harvey looks worried when they finally stop at his place. It’s a small consolidation for the Penguin to know that the cop doesn’t suspect him any longer in being the reason for Jim’s latest foray into depression-wonderland.

“Whatever this is,” Bullock hisses into the mobster’s ear when exiting the car, “You should talk him out of it.”

The Penguin wants to laugh. Harvey and Jim have been friends for years and now he’s the one that has to mend this? He nods instead and waits for the other cop to drive him back home.

Jim runs a hand through his hair and starts the engine. It dawns on Oswald how they are alone again in a little cocoon and he can’t help but enjoy the feeling. It’s just so safe in the limited space of a car, there’s simply nowhere to run and no possibility of hiding.

“Your recent behavior is starting to become worrisome,” the gangster commences with a little sideways glance.

Jim ignores him. “You’ll get the money back,” he says instead.

Oswald merely rolls his eyes. Frankly, he couldn’t care less. It’s not really a sum worth mentioning to him anyway. Besides, it’s a hollow promise and Jim surely knows it.

“Are you hungry?” he wants to know after a moment, startling the crime-lord. “They opened a small Hungarian restaurant not far from my place. They make this… “ He sighs. “I really can’t pronounce it. It’s some kind of pancake stuffed with meat. Tastes good,” he adds with a lopsided smile.

Oswald gapes at the man sitting beside him. This was the last thing the Penguin expected out of him. Somehow, Jim seems to be on a mission to put him through the wringer.

“Are you asking me out?” he demands to know, a shy, hopeful smile playing around his lips.

“I suppose,” Jim shrugs. “I guess I owe you an apology.” He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Or two. And maybe an explanation. Well, the same goes for Harvey, probably.”

Oswald is too shocked to answer right away.

“So?” Jim presses, glancing at him uncertainly.

“I guess I could spare some time,” he answers haughtily, mentally kicking himself on how that came out. The cop doesn’t seem to mind though, already turning the car instead.

The place is indeed small. Only five tables, dimly lit and almost empty. The Penguin doubts the food will be edible but if James Gordon is finally willing to talk about his odd behavior and their frankly awkward relationship, he’s willing to wolf down some cardboard.

He knows the dish Jim had been talking about, Hortobágyi palacsinta, and taking in the state of the place, he already fears for his taste buds. The cop on the other hand finally seems to relax when ordering their dishes directly from their cook.

The man looks like the embodiment of a bad cliché. He’s hunched over, slightly overweight and wearing a jacket decorated with various sauce-stains. Oswald fears for his health, too, but when Jim smiles encouragingly, he takes his first bite with death-defying courage.

It’s, in fact, edible. Not nearly as good as his mother would have made it but the way Jim looks at him almost makes up for it. He should probably be mad at the other man. After their last encounter, he hasn’t heard a single word from him. And now they are on a date after Jim almost having a mental breakdown over Harvey.

Oswald snorts. Jim obviously has a thing for the crazy ones. Not that he’d describe himself as mentally stable either, but Jim is currently another level off the rocker.

“You wanted to tell me something?” he says warmly after taking his first bite. Meanwhile, his friend is pushing his own food around on his plate, staring helplessly at the chunks of meat and pancake.

“I did.” He pauses to chew and Oswald wonders when was the last time Jim had eaten anything other than frozen pizza or hot dogs. Probably when he had been looking after Ed.

“I found Brian Gold’s murderer,” he starts slowly. “He tried to rip off his cartel and paid the price. I arrested the thug who pulled the trigger. From there on it’s a dead end.”

Oswald nods. That’s at least some good news but definitely not why they are both here. Jim plays with his glass of water while studying the Penguin sadly.

“Did you ever feel like an entire failure?” he asks rhetorically and the mobster leans slightly forward. He could probably tell him about the time he was released from Arkham, his mother gone forever and his mind in tatters. Yet a single word would stop whatever Jim is about to tell him.

“When coming to Gotham, I wanted to be nothing more than an honest cop. I wanted to follow the law and the rules. Instead, I bent them a little, then broke them completely. And I picked and chose the rules I wanted to obey, for the love of the greater good. ‘Cause I thought if I break my own rules only once, or if I go just a little bit further, it wouldn’t hurt.” The cop squirms in his seat before looking the other man in the eye.

“Well, the city is stable,” Oswald remarks lightly him but Jim merely shakes his head.

“No thanks to me or the GCPD,” he huffs. “This city is ruled by gangsters and psychopaths. That’s exactly the reason the Court of Owls decided to destroy it entirely. I sometimes wonder if they should have simply done it. A fresh start from scratch. Of course, that’s mass murder and insane. But I don’t think…” His voice trails off and Oswald remains silent. For once, he’s completely calm in the other man’s company. If he truly wants Jim, this is his time to listen. Holding his breath, Oswald gestures for him to continue.

“I don’t think anything in Gotham truly makes a difference. You are Falcone’s heir and nobody can tell who will follow you. Did I ever tell you it was Sofia who brought Pyg to Gotham? It was her plan so she could destabilize your system of crime licenses.”

Putting his own fork down, he nods. He had known all of that before. After Sofia getting shot and falling into a coma, he made it his personal mission to find everything out about his opponent and her machinations. Jim would have never agreed to the alliance if he’d even assumed the woman would go as far as murdering his colleagues. He would’ve never expected Jim to admit it, though.

“I didn’t know at the time,” Jim carries on. “But I failed to do the right thing when I finally found out. Should have stepped down and face my trial.” He shrugs. “I’ve been a coward. As always.” Smiling awkwardly, he waits for the Penguin to confirm that last statement. Oswald would never do that.

“Let you rot in Arkham for a murder I committed and walked away when you needed my help,” he finishes, taking a sip from his water with trembling hands.

“You have been right all along, Oswald,” he whispers. “I turned reckless and irresponsible. I’m not a man who should take care of this city. Last time, you offered to change this city for me, but I’m too far gone to differ good from bad anymore. I became part of this city’s problem, not the solution. I’ve finally come to acknowledge that.”

He takes in a deep breath while Oswald slowly tries to recover. He would not have thought it possible for Jim to possess such a level of self-awareness. But here they are at least. His hero admits his sins and it’s probably the most sincere apology he’s ever gotten.

“You tried to do the right thing, though,” he declares in response. “That is more than any other man in Gotham ever did. And you did make a difference,” he sighs. “Whenever required, Harvey does the right thing, thanks to you. A bit of gambling or drinking doesn’t change that,” he consoles, but Jim isn’t having it.

“You offered me to work together with you,” he points out. “I teamed up with Sofia before and it destroyed her. Aren’t you afraid? You saw what happened to Lee, too. For some reason, you seem to have put me on a pedestal but the man you probably see in me, the man you met all those years ago behind Mooney’s club, has long ceased to exist.”

His hands are still shaking when picking up his fork again. Oswald doesn’t know what to say. No, he’s not afraid. In fact, he hasn’t been this fearless in such a long time. Yes, the cop is still fighting, it’s not easy on him, but finally, he’s opening his eyes to the truth.

He chose to love Jim a long time ago and nothing he’s done so far has managed to change that. Should he simply tell him that it doesn’t matter to him? That he wants this tainted version of James Gordon anyway? Jim could make him better and he would probably end up dragging him further down. They would be trapped in an endless, vicious circle, probably destroying each other like nothing else ever could.

Or Jim could finally start believing in them. Closing his eyes, the Penguin tries thinking of a solution. Of course, the stubborn bastard would make something as simple as finally admitting his feelings and what they both could be able to do this complicated.

“Is that the reason why you want to kill yourself?” he asks curiously, because finally, he has Jim were he wants him to be. At last, he’s being honest with himself. It makes the Penguin feel giddy, his plan worked after all. Not the way he intended, but well enough.

Jim snorts in response. “I’m a coward. Did you already forget that? I simply want to stop existing. Poof,” he says, opening his right hand as if showing him a magic trick. “I wish someone would finally wipe me off the board and I’d get spared the pain of waking up in the morning ever again,” he mumbles, averting the gangster’s eyes.

Leaning over the table, Oswald extends his hand and laces his fingers with Jim’s. The cop presses back, closing the circuit. His skin is warm, smooth. The Penguin wants to tell him how being alive is a gift. He had almost died before and if he knows one thing, it’s how death can never be desirable. Jim must know it too, somewhere deep down.

“I’m simply angry. Angry at myself how I ruined my life so much,” he admits after a long moment. “And I don’t understand…”

Before Jim can finish the sentence, Oswald squeezes his hand tightly. “I simply think we’ll have to put everything back into perspective for you,” he suggests affectionately.

“How?” Jim demands to know desperately.

Pressing a kiss to Jim’s forehead, the gangster shrugs. “I don’t know yet. Small steps, I suppose.”

He keeps smiling encouragingly despite the cop’s dubious frown. “Come on,” he tells him, slightly pulling on his hand. “Date night isn’t over yet.”

To his delight, Jim gets up and follows him without resistance.

[onbartonspringsfic]

Chapter 79

“Are you sure about this dress?” you ask Alison worriedly even before making it out of the department store revolving door and onto the street.

“I swear, woman,” she moans under a sigh. “What are we going to do with you? It looked great. Dave won’t be able to keep it in his pants. Same for Chris.”

“What do you mean?” you say way too quickly.

“It’s not exactly a secret,” she replies casually. “It’s pretty obvious what’s going on.”

You stop dead in the middle of the busy sidewalk, clutching the handle of your shopping bag so tightly that it feels as though it’s cutting into your fingers.

“What’s obviously going on?” Your voice waivers, causing you to sound terribly worried and a little angry.

Alison continues walking several steps before she realizes she’s now alone. Turning around slowly, she looks at you apologetically.

“I’m sorry, I guess that sounded pretty accusatory and kind of shitty, didn’t it?”

“Well… no…” you suddenly feel overwhelmed and helpless.

“Sounds like we need to talk about more than dresses.” She scans the street and, spying what she is looking for, beckons with one bag-laden arm to follow. “There’s a Starbucks ahead on the corner. Let’s take a break and chat.”

Sliding into a crumb-filled seat in a booth opposite Alison, you stare at her through the steam wafting from the top of your Venti hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and whipped cream. She cautiously looks back over her chai latte with almond milk and takes a deep breath.

“What do you want to know,” she asks.

“I want to know what you think is going on.”

She hesitates, takes a sip of her latte, and then locks eyes with you.

“I think Chris is in love with you and he wants you to split up with Dave.”

Your mouth drops open in utter shock.

“Hear me out. I apologize if I’m wrong, but have you not noticed the way he looks at you? He can’t keep his eyes off of you. Every time I look at him, he’s dialed in. I know you two got pretty close while you were in Austin and that you stayed with him after Dave and the rest of us flew back to California. I’ve known Shifty a long time. He has feelings for you.”

Eyes shifting to your cup, you take a cautious sip before looking back at Alison.

“It’s complicated,” you confess as she frowns.

“Has he said anything to you?”

“We went for a walk on the beach the other morning to catch up. We hadn’t really spoken since Austin.  He told me about Cara leaving, and… and then he confessed that he was ashamed to say that he was hoping things between Dave and I weren’t going well, that maybe he and I could be together. And…” Unable to continue, you take another sip of cocoa and press both lips together, taking a deep breath and staring at the table.  

“You don’t have to tell me all this if you don’t want to,” she offers. “But I’m also glad to listen if you do.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you look back across the table at your new friend. It’s funny; you’d known Andrea and Kelly for so many years and didn’t trust either of them any further than you could throw them and yet you trust Alison, whom you’d spent just a few days with, like a sister.

“He told me he is completely in love with me, that he has been since Austin - he danced with me and I cried on his shoulder while I was watching Dave with Rose. I was so hurt and he was so angry at Dave. We kissed in the hall to make my friends jealous and then later he pulled me into a linen closet down the hall and…”

Her eyes grow as big as saucers. “It didn’t go THAT far,” you laugh through the now flowing tears. “I stopped him. I reminded him how much it would hurt Cara. Lot of good that did. But on the beach, he kissed me. And I kissed him back - just for a few seconds - but I kissed him back. He means the world to me, Ali. I am so confused. I think I might be in love with them both.”

Ali heaves a sigh, one hand sliding to the back of her neck and the other cradling her chin as she stares blankly at the floor, trying to think of a solution.

“How the fuck does a nobody like me stumble across Dave fucking Grohl in a hotel lobby and then end up in a love triangle with two members of the Foo Fighters that could potentially break them up and end a friendship 20 years in the making? This is just ridiculous!”

Alison bursts out laughing but quickly covers her mouth with one hand. You follow her lead.

“Am I right? It’s just completely laughable. And yet so real and horribly painful.”

She quickly straightens up and drops one hand to the table. “Does he know you aren’t sure what to do?”

“Yes. And no. I’ve admitted to him that there is something there, but I’ve told him that I am in love with Dave and that I want to stay with him.”

“Dave knows about the closet in Austin.” Alison’s eyes grow huge again. “But that was before we were officially together. He doesn’t know about the kiss on the beach. Obviously. He trusts me. After what Jordyn did to him, I couldn’t bear to let it happen to him again. It would kill him.”

Ali grows silent and, after a moment, serious. “Your secret is safe with me. I can understand your confusion. They’re both amazing men. I know you have zero confidence in yourself, but they’re both right to be smitten with you. You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

You wipe sloppily at your face as new tears begin spilling down your cheeks and splashing on the table. “What am I going to do?!” you blubber helplessly.

“I obviously can’t tell you that.” She sounds sympathetic and at the same time, stern. “You’re going to have to make up your own mind. You’re going to have to follow your gut and your heart. And you’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that no matter what you do, it’s going to hurt everyone in one way or another. I’m not saying that to be a bitch and I’m not saying you’re to blame for any outcome. I just didn’t know if you’d thought about that. No matter what happens, someone is going to get hurt. I’m mentioning this because, while this is not your fault, its the position you’ve been put in. You can’t base your decision on how it will affect others. You have to do what you feel is right rather than what’s easy.” She pauses and frowns at the window before looking back at you. “Does that make sense? Or do I just sound like a jerk? It’s no one’s fault. It just… happened.”

“I feel like I just want to hop a plane back to the island and lock myself away forever.”

“You can’t run away this time, Pen. You can’t. These guys won’t let you.”

You stare miserably back. “Why can’t you just tell me what to do?” you plead, half joking, half serious.

She smiles sympathetically. “I will say this. You can take it for whatever it’s worth, if anything. I’ve known them both for a long time. Dave adores you. You two have been through a lot in the short time since you’ve met - had a lot of ups and downs - and you’re still together. From what I’ve observed, you two have a chemistry that is beyond physical. You guys seem genuinely happy just being together, no matter what you’re doing. He missed you something terrible when he had to leave you in Austin. He wanted you to go home with him so bad, he was in tears on the plane. From the second that bird took off he was scheming on how he could see you again as soon as possible. That’s when he started talking about flying out to North Carolina to surprise you. I’ve never seen him like that before. With anyone. You guys are just so… organic. It’s like you were made for each other. On the other hand - and this is based solely on what you have told me and what I have observed - you and Chris seem to have a serious physical chemistry going on. Kissing in the hall, the linen closet entanglement, the kiss on the beach… do you feel an emotional connection with him like you do with Dave? I know you haven’t spent as much time with Chris, but do you feel that connection at all? You don’t have to answer me, it’s just something else to consider.”

Taking a gulp of your cooling hot chocolate and mushing a couple of mini-marshmallows around with your tongue, you slowly begin to process some of what Alison’s just presented.

“That’s a lot more to think about. I mean, it’s something I haven’t really thought about before. It’s helpful. Thank you.” You wipe your eyes once more and look at her gratefully. “I still have tons to think about, though.”

“You absolutely do. But if you need an ear to bend, or if there is anything I can do to help, will you let me know? We haven’t been friends long, but I consider you one of my best. I love you and I’d do anything for you.” She gives you her beautiful winning smile and you can’t help but smile back, grateful to and for such a gracious friend.

-----

While finishing your coffee and cocoa, Dave texts to let you know that filming is complete for the morning and that it is safe for you and Alison to return to the hotel suite whenever you get ready. A shivering Pat is having a cigarette outside, and at the sight of you, abandons his smoke, relieves Alison of some of her shopping bags and accompanies you upstairs. He cautiously opens the door and the three of you file quietly inside. Dave had said that he’d finished filming, but the remaining band and crew members were softly talking and milling around, so you all three carried on as such.

You catch sight of Dave, Bonnie Raitt, Buddy Guy and Butch Vig standing in the next room talking and Dave smiles and excuses himself when he sees you. Swiftly he steps around the group, gives you a huge grin and mouths “oh my god” enthusiastically while discreetly pointing over his shoulder at the group. You can’t help but giggle.

“Are you that excited to meet Butch?” you tease as he gives you a quick kiss.

“Ha. Ha. Buddy is fucking amazing. Bonnie is too, but Buddy… god, that was incredible.” He looks so excited and happy. It’s infectious. “You guys have fun? Any luck shopping?”

“I bought a little something you might like,” you say coyly. “Well, Alison said you’d like it. Let’s hope she’s right.”

“She looks gorgeous in it,” Ali comments from the sofa where she’s landed with Pat and Taylor, “but you can’t tell her that. She’d have bought nothing if I hadn’t been there.”

Dave gives you a small, knowing smile and shakes his head slightly. “Do I get to see later?”

“It’s your money,” you tease, making him roll his eyes and grin.

“Hey, do you guys want to meet…? “ he points excitedly into the other room where Butch, Buddy and Bonnie are having an animated conversation.

Ali lets out a hushed but sarcastic “DUH!” as she and Taylor hop up to join you and Dave for introductions.

[sweetdeathwrites]

Sapphic, Savvy?

Summary: Sometimes, coming out is harder for some people than others. Kyoko is one of those people.

Warnings: sexual suggestiveness, fears about coming out

~[Kyoko/Fem!Reader]~

(original author’s note, sorry, it’s long–– 

WOW I LOVE KYOKO, MY GIRLFRIEND!!!! #LetKyokoBeMyWife2k17 i love her!! alright, in all seriousness, if there were a lot of wlw reader-inserts, or even girl/gender neutral fits, i probably would've realized I liked girls a lot sooner. And if there were more gender neutral fics I probably would've realized I'm nonbinary sooner too... haha, well, I hope this helps someone! Or is just entertaining! Either is great, haha! I want more Kyoko/reader fics... I love my gf and I'm pretty sure I've only seen one more Kyoko/reader fic here on Luna....if you write any, send them to me, alright? I love Kyoko so much, she's so good and sweet!!! also, that pun in the title? When i first thought of it I snorted out loud. Like that was a thing I actually did because I thought it was just the best pun ever. I actually snorted. also, Bianchi totally has had same gendered lovers. There is no way she hasn't— i mean, she works in the mafia and there HAS to be some situations where she's needed to be a seductress for a woman. Also my head canon for her is that she's not straight. She's definitely had a girlfriend before, before Reborn probably. She's so iconic, the butch and femme ideal, the best of both worlds.... i love her.... ok, shoutout to GuardianAngel07! not for anything in particular (ok there's always reason, but this is just a casual shout out!!1!) but she's a huge inspiration to me and she's so kind, sweet, and supportive, that I think she deserves a shoutout! She deserves more than one, but this will have to do for now! Thanks for everything~)

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The peaceful calm of dawn is broken by the rustling of bedsheets and a duvet over a too-small bed. Your mouth stretched wide in a yawn and you roll over to face your beautiful girlfriend. She smiled, cheeks rosy and her long lashes cast even longer shadows over her cherubic face. You smiled. ‘Sasagawa Kyoko,' you mused, ‘My very own goddess.’ She stirred in her sleep- just the smallest bit- but it was enough for you to freeze and wait for her to settle back down again. Through her window, you could see faint sunbeams cover the horizon and you knew you should be getting up soon, or else you both would be late to school. What a bother. “Kyoko-chan,” you whispered, breath soft and warm in the crook of her neck. A hand gently rubbing the side of her ribcage that was accessible from your awkward angle. Kyoko laid comfortably curled up against you with her hands splayed over your stomach and tangled in your hair. Your leg was tossed over her hip and your toes curled when Kyoko hummed, dreaming sweetly. You called for her again and brought a hand up to caress her face, skimming a thumb over her plump lips. “Baby…” She whined in her sleep, a long, airy noise. You bit your lip. A devious, delicious idea comes to mind and you figure you have just enough time to carry through with it before you have to get ready to go to school- or at least you have time to start it. You leaned over and kissed Kyoko’s shoulder, bare from the thin straps of her silky pink slip, and nipped on it delicately. Kyoko’s breath hitched and you grinned. Slowly, you brought your hands up to brush the hair out of her face and to stroke her with. “Honey…” She still didn’t wake up. Honestly, this girl will be the death of you. With a heavy sigh, you went back to your plan of giving her unrelenting, adoring affection until she wakes. You planted soft, ticklish kisses all up her neck and when you got to her jawline you grazed her soft skin with your teeth. Kyoko made another sound in her sleep, though this time, just a little less innocent. She’s just too good. You curled a strand of her hair behind her ear and out of your way for you to breathe hotly, “Princess…” and she giggled. “Ah,” you said, “I knew you were just pretending.” Kyoko rolled over to face you completely, one hand hiked your leg higher up her hip, up to her waist, and the other hand brushed your own flyaways out of your eyes to she could see you better. “Of course I was. I wanted you to wake me up, like Sleeping Beauty!” “But you’re already my princess, Kyo-chan!” Her laughs and the sound of her joy light up the room. A stealthy arm wrapped around her waist to pull her closer. “You know what, baby?” She smiled. “What?” “When I marry you, on our wedding night, I just can’t wait to get into bed with you. Wait—I-I mean,” You stutter, not at all meaning to make an innuendo but making the best of it, “I already have you in my bed,” Kyoko rolls her eyes, “But I can’t wait to be married to you. It’ll be so sweet. We can wake up and kiss and make breakfast together, eat it on our porch, eat it in our garden. We can be so… domestic, y’know?” Birds sang in the distance and you could feel the refreshing breeze that came through the window on your back. Kyoko’s face, bathed in honey-golden sunlight with her eyes sparkling, was just enough to show that she was just as excited as you were about your future wedding. “I’ll make sure to grow lots of vegetables. You need to keep healthy, honey, I won’t tolerate you getting sick on me!” She scolded you teasingly, punctuating her words with a playful kiss on your nose. “And I,” you retorted, “will make sure that you eat all the cakes I bake for you. I gotta keep you sweet and soft somehow, right?” A delighted laugh meets your ears in response. “Yeah,” she said, “you better do that.” You sighed in content. You never got over how beautiful she was, no matter how long you gazed at her, no matter how many times you get lost in those orange-blossom eyes of hers, no matter how many times you kissed those cherry lips of hers, no matter how many times- “Hey!” She caught your attention. “What’re you doing?” Smirking, you yanked her closer with your leg wrapped around her waist until your hips meet and she gasped. “What aren’t I doing?” Before you had time to make another move, she held you by the nape of your neck and kissed you. Unlike most of her delicate kisses, this one is hotter, needier. It surprised you. No, it’s not even that needy- she’s just trying to prove to you that she can make the first move! Your heart swells with love at her dedication to make you happy, to make things...more interesting, in your relationship. You hummed happily into the kiss. That’s when Kyoko really took charge. Her hands traveled to the front of your sleep shirt and she started unbuttoning it. Wow. This was bold and you were enjoying this new side of Kyoko very much. She slid a well-manicured hand in the opening of your shirt and pressed her palm flat on your stomach. You jumped a little and yelped into the kiss- her hands were cold! As expected, she giggled a little as well, the little minx! Not willing to give up just yet, you squeezed her rear firmly and she bit your lip gently. Your hand- warm- slides up the back of her pretty pink slip and— “Kyoko-chan! Wake up! It’s time to get extremely ready for school!” Ryohei, Kyoko’s older brother with no sense of personal space, barged in the room and you had to pretend like you weren’t just swapping spit and getting hot and heavy with his little sister. “B-Big brother!” she shouted, yanking the fluffy duvet over the two of you until the only visible parts of you were from the chin up. “We’re in our pajamas! My best friend is in her pajamas!” “So?” Ryohei tilted his head in confusion. “So you can’t see her like this! She can’t get married if you do!” Kyoko yelled and threw a stuffed animal at the door. Ryohei shouted back how extremely sorry he is and that he will not affect your chances of getting married, for sure, so not to worry about that. You buried your head in Kyoko’s chest and screamed quietly in embarrassment. After that fiasco, Kyoko made sure to lock the door the next time you come over. You leaned on the sink in her bathroom, brushing your teeth with the toothbrush that you both decided would stay at her house since you sleep over so often. Next to you stands your girlfriend, already dressed in her school uniform and brushing out her short, caramel hair. She caught your eye in the mirror and bumps you with her hip; you bump her right back. You rinsed out your mouth and gave Kyoko a minty kiss on the lips. “Sorry I kissed you with my gross morning breath,” you said and straightened out the bow around her neck, “and sorry for making out with you and, like, grinding on you when your brother came in.” Those caramel locks of hers flew as she shook her head passionately. “No! It’s not your fault that happened. And I had gross morning breath too, so we’re even.” She grinned and playfully unbuttons your pajama shirt again. You raised an eyebrow; was she really going to go through with this? Right now? Well, you wouldn’t complain anyway. It would be worth coming to school late. You were a senior already anyway, so the school wouldn’t give you too much grief about being tardy. A pile of clothes smacked against your face, waking you from your daydreams. Kyoko was already walking out of the bathroom, a teasing sway in her hips as she closed the door behind her, leaving you alone to get dressed for the day. You grinned. What a minx. “I’ll see you later, Ryohei. Thanks for letting me stay over!” You bowed slightly to Ryohei. Sure, you’ve known him for years, but you can at least be polite if he was going to nearly catch you making out with his dearly beloved little sister. “I hope you two have an extremely good day!” he shouted and waved enthusiastically. Around his waist was a frilly pink apron that read “KISS THE COOK”. The door shut with an audible click. Ever since he graduated, he’s been staying at home during the day, doing domestic house chores and exercising. At night he took college classes which allowed you and Kyoko enough time to finish homework and cuddle up in front of the television without interruptions. Also it gave you more time to kiss. “Come on, let’s get going!” Kyoko started walking quickly, leaving you behind. “We can’t be late for school! Tsu-kun is probably waiting!” “Oh, he’ll be late anyway, Kyo-chan, what’s the rush?” You pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and slapped her behind lightly, turning her laugh to a gasp. “Oh!” she whispered, scandalously glancing around to make sure no neighbors saw that. “Don’t do that! We’re in public!” Her cheeks were burning brightly. Contrary to her scolding tongue, a smile graced her lips. Just when you were about to kiss those smiling lips, the door behind you slammed open again and a certain white-haired brother tumbled out of it, shouting. “Hey! You two!” Kyoko whipped around with a look of shock painted on her face. Ryohei held up two pretty boxes. “You forgot your lunches!” Ryohei shoved a bento into your arms and reeled a bit when he saw Kyoko’s face. With scrunched brows, he placed a hand over Kyoko’s forehead. “Sis, are you feeling alright? You’re pretty warm. You’re not…” he gasped, “extremely sick, are you?” “Aah, no, I’m...I’m fine,” Kyoko assured him. You smile faintly at her. Wind buffeted your hair and Kyoko reached down to make sure her skirt didn’t lift in the breeze. Another beautiful day in Namimori. If it wasn’t for school, you probably would be taking a walk in a park with Kyoko, or maybe even a trip to the zoo. She really loved watching the otters swim around. “Hey...Kyoko?” “Hmm?” “Do you not want people to know we’re dating?” Kyoko slowed her walking until she stood still. Her soft hair covered her eyes so you couldn’t judge her expression very well but her demeanor was frozen. “No,” she said, “it’s not that… It’s…” Kyoko trailed off and let her sentence be carried off by the wind. You slowly made your way to where she stood on the road and slid an arm around her neck, dropping your bag to the ground. “Hey,” you touch your forehead to hers, startling Kyoko so her eyes drifted up to yours. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t feel pressured or anything… If you’re not ready to tell everyone just yet, I can wait. I’ll wait forever if it’s for you, Kyo-chan,” you bumped your nose with hers and she giggled quietly. “I just want everyone to know that you’re mine~” She laughed again, “Don’t be ridiculous!” and shook her head. “There’s nobody that wants to steal me away from you, silly!” The two of you decided that it was time to start walking to school again. “Of course people want to date you! You’re cute, sweet, and really smart! Don’t you know you’re, like, the prettiest girl in school?!” You gawked at Kyoko’s humbleness, but what she was saying just wasn’t true! “Haven’t you seen how Tsuna looks at you?!” “Tsu-kun?” Kyoko put a finger to her chin in thought. “Hmm… No, I think you’re just imagining things!” You squinted at Kyoko’s inability to see how blatant Tsuna’s love for her was. Kyoko took your hand in hers and when you glanced over at her her face was beet-red. You smiled and started to swing your hands together. “Thank you…” she said. “For what?” “Just thanks…” You laughed. She could be so strange sometimes! “Hey!” A thin voice called out. When you turned around, you were greeted by the sight of Tsuna, Yamamoto, and Hayato jogging towards you and Kyoko. You felt her grip loosen until she let go of your hand completely. You didn’t realize how cold your hands were until you weren’t holding hers. “Hi, guys!” Kyoko chirped, voice as chipper as ever. They all responded with a greeting of their own and it didn’t take long for bickering between the boys to begin, and it took even less time for Tsuna to begin getting chatty with Kyoko. You smiled. Poor boy didn’t know your girlfriend was a lesbian. You didn’t realize the fighting between Gokudera and Yamamoto had ended until Gokudera was very close to your side and already speaking. You didn’t catch a word of his sentence. “Sorry, what?” “I said, ‘You and Kyoko are pretty close, aren’t you?’” Green eyes slyly met your own. “I don’t have a single clue, Gokudera-kun.” Despite your denial, you couldn’t keep your mouth from splitting in a wide, toothy grin. Gokudera snorted at your terrible acting. The sounds of the rest of the group turned to background noise. “You and Kyoko are dating, aren’t you?” Gokudera had a smug grin of his own on his face. It took everything you had to not break out in laughter where you were and collapse to the ground in stitches. “What do I look like,” you began, “a person that would date super cute girls and love them with all my heart?” Gokudera seemed to choke a bit at that but when he collected himself he agreed vehemently. You sighed in relief when the lunch bell rang— finally, a break from your classes. The halls were busy with students rushing out to buy food and drinks from the vending machines on the school’s perimeter while your own little group rushed up to the roof to eat in peace. Opening the door, you were temporarily blinded by the sun and heard Gokudera swear somewhere behind you. Yamamoto laughed and was promptly told to shut his trap while Tsuna tried (fruitlessly) to disband the two’s bickering. As you sat down between Yamamoto and Tsuna, you didn’t realize Kyoko wasn’t with you until you had already began to eat the bento Ryohei had packed for the two of you. Surprisingly, his food was quite good. You’d expect it to be burnt, with how fiery Ryohei’s personality was and how easily he was distracted, but his cooking skills had vastly improved from how they were the year before. He’d get a wife easily if he kept up that work. You told the gang you’d go looking for Kyoko real quick and Tsuna nodded, asking if he should come as well. “No,” you replied, “I’ll be just fine.” You didn’t miss Gokudera’s raised eyebrow and had to bite your tongue hard to keep from snickering. “Kyo-chan?” You weaved your way in and out of climbing vines with nearly ripe fruit hanging off, begging to be stolen, and did your best to not dirty your shoes in the soft dirt underfoot. The gardening club had been granted a pretty little space behind the school to do their activities, since the sports clubs used the front of the school grounds. Almost no one except the gardening club came back here. Almost. A lot of couples, you and Kyoko included, would come to make out by the tomatoes and sunflowers; the gardens were a very romantic place for teenagers to get hot and heavy with their lovers. “Kyo-chan? Are you here?” You spotted a head of ginger hair crouched on the cool cement under the shade of an old tree that bordered the gardens. Poor Kyo-chan. “Honey?” Kyoko lifted her head at your call and her lips were pouty and red from gnawing on them. You felt your brow furrow and you came to sit next to her, bringing an arm around her neck to tuck the hair behind her ear and to draw her in closer to you. “Hey,” You whisper. Kyoko leaned into your reclined body, “what’s going on?” She sighed and buried her face in the crook of your neck. You prodded her tummy with wriggling fingers and felt her laugh. “Don’t tickle me!” “I’ll stop when you tell me what’s bothering you!” “You’re so silly!” Kyoko beamed. Then her cheeriness faded and she let her head rest on your shoulder again. “I…” she whispered, “I want to tell people about us…about me and you… But I don’t know what to say… What if they don’t like us?” “Hey.” “…” “Hey,” you grabbed her gently by the shoulder and made her face you. Holding her chin with your fingers and brushing stray strands of hair out of her eyes, you could see the watery sheen they held. “Kyo-chan… There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re not ashamed of me… are you?” At your timid question, Kyoko reeled back like she had been electrocuted. “Of course I’m not ashamed of you!” she nearly yelled. Her eyes widened when she heard just how loud she was and she leaned in and said quietly, “I’ll never be ashamed of you… I just wish it wasn’t so hard to—” “—come out?” Kyoko laughed, voice tired, and hummed in agreement. Her hand creeped into yours and she softly squeezed your palm and played with your fingers. “Don’t worry, princess, you don’t have to do a thing if you don’t want to. It takes time, y’know? You can’t just decide to tell everyone you know something so personal in a day. It can take a long time… some people never do it. Just—” you coughed, not used to saying such emotionally-wrought things so early in the morning. Heck, at any time of day— Kyoko was always the one that was good with emotions in your relationship. “—just know that everyone loves you. If you’re worried about something changing with the guys, or with your family, don’t be. What’s this, the sixties? Everyone’s a little gay, Kyoko—” Kyoko burst out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter at your comment. “—okay, fine, not everyone, but a lot of people are! Including me and you~” you nuzzled your nose on Kyoko’s rosy cheeks and nipped her ear when she turned away from your ticklish affections. “I think you mean especially us- and not just a little bit, a lot!” Kyoko swished her finger in the air like he was making a point— and she was, a very, very valid one. She turned around and held your face firmly in her small hands as she planted lots of kisses over your face until you were in happy tears, begging her to stop and let you catch a breath! She rolled off you onto the ground, seemingly uncaring of the whiteness shirt or maybe she just forgot how dusty the concrete by the gardens were. “Baby, we should be heading back to the boys now, what do you think? You don’t want them to suspect anything, right? Actually,” you snorted in a way that Kyoko found cute (it was really wasn’t, though), “Gokudera already knows.” “What?” Kyoko gasped. “Yeah. I guess he knows from growing up with his sister. She’s so hot, I don’t doubt she had a lot of lovers, same gendered or not.” Rolling your eyes, you tried to imagine Bianchi with a woman. It was extremely easy to imagine her having a woman as a lover. You giggled, feeling like you had a secret that no one else knew. “Hey!” Kyoko whined, “Are you imagining other women? I’m right here!” Kyoko pouted. Just as you were going to apologize and explain to her what you found so funny when Kyoko surprised you yet again. “You don’t even have to imagine with me! Just do it!” And Kyoko kissed you hard on the mouth. With a little more teeth than you were used to, but Kyoko seemed to really enjoy taking charge recently. It was nice. She carded her hands through your hair and tilted your head back by your hair so she could get a better angle. You kissed her back with tenderness, content in having her in your arms. Kyoko had something else in mind, though. Crawling into your lap, her weight on you was also a bonus of her trying to pry a better kiss out of you. You lost yourself in the softness of her lips and the nip of her teeth when she changed the angle of her neck, and just the slightest hint of her smooth tongue skimming your bottom lip and— “K-Kyoko-chan?!” You pull away from Kyoko with tousled hair and swollen lips to see Tsuna standing— well, fallen, really, on the ground a few feet away from the two of you. Kyoko still perched on your lap, your mind drew a blank when you tried to think of an escape plan and an explanation, short of throwing Kyoko into the garden and pretending like nothing happened. Tsuna’s face was red as hot iron and he was probably as heated as it too as he stammered, “W-We were wondering if something happened to you two, s-since you were gone so long and Gokudera-kun said to go looking for you but… I-I can go, actually, right n-now—” “Wait!” Kyoko yelled, her face buried in your chest. You could feel an awkward bead of sweat rolling down the side of your neck… Why was she telling him to stay with her head shoved in your chest? Truly, it was a strange turn of events and Kyoko wasn’t making your situation look any more innocent… “I’m in love, Tsu-kun!” “E-Eh?” “That’s right!” Kyoko picked up your hands and held them tightly in hers, “I’m in love with a girl! I don’t care what you think either; we are absolutely perfect together and I love her very much! Our love is pure, organic, and beautiful!” Kyoko’s eyes burned with a passion you could only assume to be prevalent throughout the Sasagawa family as she announced her love for you to your dear friend. Your lip quivered and tears began to fog your vision. Happy they were, but you blinked hard to clear them. An event as important as this meant you couldn’t miss a single second of it. “Um,” Tsuna began, keeping his eyes level with Kyoko’s gaze even as his face burned, “That’s not a problem at all? I mean, I’m happy for both of you, but you didn’t have to hide it or anything… I’m just… surprised, that’s all.” Kyoko took a second to process that and during the awkward silence that followed, Tsuna shuffled his feet. Kyoko still hadn’t moved from your lap… Really, it was making this situation more trying than it needed to be… “C-Can I go now?” Tsuna sheepishly asked for permission. Kyoko nodded slowly and Tsuna practically sprinted away from the sight of his long-time crush making out with her best friend. You couldn’t blame him. The look on Kyoko’s face gave you a clear view to all the machinery working in her mind, every gear and cog rotating, still trying to understand what just happened. “Oh,” she finally said. “That was a little easier than I thought.” “You girls are such terrible actors,” Gokudera said with a cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth, his hands upturned in a show of dramatic disappointment. “Really? I had no idea! I think you could make it to Hollywood! Haha, invite me to lots of award shows, I want to meet famous celebrities~” Yamamoto laughed and opposed Gokudera’s opinion. He smiled and went on about how he was just going to help a friend ask the both of you on a date. Good thing he didn’t, Yamamoto chimed. “Shut up, baseball freak,” grumbled Gokudera, already drained of Yamamoto’s presence in your friend group. “Whaaat? Ah, you’re so mean, Gokudera-kun!” Yamamoto teased and playfully hit Gokudera’s shoulder, resulting in another fight between the two opposites. Kyoko leaned into you as the five of you walked home, going through a nearby shopping mall to get a bite to eat first. Your arm was wrapped around her waist and pulling her in close. Both of your hips bumped with each step but it was only a mild annoyance—a trade off in exchange for being able to openly adore your girlfriend. “How do you like this?” “I love it,” Kyoko smiled and nuzzled into your neck, causing you to jump and smack her lightly with your schoolbag. A loud commotion sounded from a grocery store to your left. A young man in a white apron yelled into a crowd about the store’s outrageously cheap deals of the month and flocks of mothers held crumpled coupons in their waving fists. The air smelled like grilled meat and the small food stands outside the grocery store must have been making a fortune off of the hungry shoppers. Suddenly, a familiar turf top came into view, much more weary than he was this morning and carrying a ridiculous amount of brown paper bags, overflowing with his purchases. “Big brother!” Kyoko said in surprise. Ryohei made a similar greeting when he noticed how close you two were, and Kyoko took notice of it as well— she didn’t shy away but you could feel heat creeping up her neck. Ryohei’s eyes widened for a second before he broke out in a grin that reached his ears. “Aah, you’re finally together? I’m extremely happy for you!” Ryohei’s explosive personality returned and he beamed brightly, murmurs of agreement echoing faintly within your friend group as well. “E-eh?” Reeling back in confusion, Kyoko blinked and tilted her head, “You knew?” Of course Kyoko was shocked; she went through every precaution to make sure that her romantic relationship with her best friend was a secret! The bags in Ryohei’s arms crinkled as he shook his head at Kyoko’s naivety. “Do you think I really wouldn’t be able to tell when my precious baby sister was in love? I’m not that dull, Kyoko-chan!” he guffawed. Laughter bubbled up in your stomach, growing and growing until you were in peels of laughter, wiping happy tears from your eyes. The two of you never needed to hide anyway! While you were busy laughing until your stomach hurt, you didn’t notice that Kyoko had dropped her school bag until she spun you by the shoulders and kissed you. All of her fear melted away like ice and her overflowing joy infected you, breaking the kiss through your ecstatic giggles. Her pretty honey eyes were shining with mirthful tears and she rested her forehead on yours, smiling softly all the while she told you, “I love you.” Faintly, you heard the loud voice of a certain boxer who did a terrible job of hiding his fondness for the two of you yell, “Hey, you two should extremely get a room!”

[a-gay-bloodmage]

—The Moon—

Pairing: Josephine Montilyet x Female Adaar

Pairing Type: F/F

Words: 2,540

Warnings: Fluff, So Much Fluff, Chill Butch-y Qunari and her Busybody High Femme Human Girlfriend, A Match Made by the Gods Themselves, Local wlw Can't Stop Loving Girlfriend

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door and slowly opened it.

"Josie?" She peered into Josephine's office, ducking her head to avoid banging her horns on the doorframe. The Ambassador was hunched over her desk, paperwork lit by dim orange candlelight.

"Oh, good evening, my Lady," she said, looking over at where Semiha Adaar stood by the door. "Is there something you need?"

Semiha walked over to her desk, kneeling on the floor to rest her elbows on the wood and look up at the human. "You've been working all day," she said, smiling softly.

"For good reason," Josephine sighed, setting her quill back inside her pot of ink. "Nobles are so finicky, you know?"

"If you keep working like that, you'll get sick," Semiha said, pushing out her plump bottom lip. "I'm worried about your health."

Josephine laughed quietly, leaning forward on her desk. "I appreciate your concern, my Lady."

Semiha still wasn't used to this whole my Lady thing, but it made her stomach flutter pleasantly anyway. "You shouldn't be locked up in this room all day," she said, reaching up and tapping the end of Josephine's adorable nose. "I don't understand how such a pretty bird can stand being locked up like this."

Josephine flushed a little at that. "Isn't it the middle of the night?" She asked, obviously trying to get out of whatever Semiha had in mind. Not that she didn't want to spend time with her lover—Semiha knew that she treasured the time they spent together—but her priorities always involved work.

"That's exactly why I'm here," Semiha said, standing up. She placed her hands on the desk, leaning forward until she heard a creak in the wood and quickly pulled back. "Sorry," she laughed shyly. "I just, you spend too much time cooped up down here. It can't be good for you."

"But-" Josephine was cut off by Semiha taking the two steps it took to get behind her. She sighed in soft relief when two large qunari hands pressed into her shoulders, as gentle as a giant could possibly be. "I have work."

"You either come spend time with me or go to sleep," Semiha said, leaning over the petite human. She placed an upside-down kiss on her forehead.

"You and your romantic ideas..." Josephine sighed, failing to hide a smile. Semiha's silver skin darkened a little, still so unused to women finding her nonsense charming.

"So...?"

"Fine," she said, tilting her head back to smile up at Semiha. "What is it you have in mind?"

Semiha pulled Josephine's chair back, bending down and scooping the Antivan up in her muscled arms. She let out a soft little gasp, wrapping her puffy-sleeved arms around Semiha's neck. Semiha had long ago decided that if she was too big to be physically swept off her feet, she would have to be the one to do the sweeping. Not that she minded Josephine's weight in her arms. Not at all.

"So, where is it you're carrying me off to, Miss Adaar?" Josephine asked as they went up flight after flight of stairs.

"You'll see," Semiha said quickly, trying her best to hide her romantic intentions. She had the worst poker face of anyone she had ever met. That's what she got for listening to Mama's advice to be completely truthful. Even if it meant she dumbly told every beautiful girl she ever met that they were worth so many goats. Thankfully, Josephine had found it charming.

"Oh? And what if I want to know now?"

"Already here!" Semiha grinned nervously, pushing open the door to the battlements. "Do you wish to be put down?"

"Ah, your arms must be tiring, my Lady," she said, smiling as she was set down. Semiha didn't mention that she had spent her teenage and young adult years lifting cows. She figured that could come off as a little insulting. "Chilly, isn't it?"

Semiha rushed to take off her jacket, draping it over Josephine's shoulders. It was massive on her, but she seemed to enjoy the surplus of warm fabric.

"Won't you be cold?" She asked, looking up as she leaned against the stone wall.

Semiha shook her head. "I spent lots of nights outside in nothing but sleep pants," she said, laughing a little shyly. At Josephine's concerned and empathetic look, Semiha smiled and waved her hands to dismiss any ideas forming in that pretty head of hers. "It's not like my parents locked me outside or anything," she smiled. "I snuck out to go look at the stars. Mama and papa were always so mad! Mama was convinced I'd catch my death of cold." She shrugged. "Qunaris have naturally high body temperatures. She was worried for no reason, and so are you," she said, rubbing a hand on Josephine's covered shoulder.

"Ah, yes, you have human parents, correct?"

Semiha nodded. "They did their best," she laughed, leaning back on the wall next to Josephine, resting her elbows on the stone behind her. She tried not to look so childishly excited to be spending time with Josephine. They were both quiet for a while. "Isn't it beautiful?" She sighed, looking up at the moon over the mountains.

Josephine hummed in agreement. "I never really did spend time observing the moon," she admitted, sounding almost apologetic in her tone. "Antiva makes the sun out to be so romantic we neglect sights such as these..."

Semiha got a foolish idea. She looked down at Josephine, who was still staring transfixed at the sky. "Josie?" When she looked up, her grey eyes sparkled in the starlight. She looked heavenly. "Perhaps getting a little closer would make it prettier."

"Huh?"

Semiha smiled and kneeled in front of her. "Do you have a good grip?"

"What're you-?" Josephine stopped herself, smiled, and shook her head. "Oh, why not?" She said aloud. "I do hope I'm not too heavy!"

"I don't think you will be," Semiha laughed, bending down just a little further to allow the Ambassador to slip her satin-covered legs over her shoulders. "Ready? Hold on, now." She felt Josephine grip her horns, trying to sit straight up. "Alright!" She stood, slow and steady, keeping the human squarely planted on her broad qunari shoulders.

"Maker!" Josephine gasped. She didn't sound frightened at all, instead seeming almost surprised at how different the world looked from a different perspective.

"How is it?" Semiha looked up to the best of her ability, trying not to tilt her head back too much. Her jaw hurt from grinning, and the pressure on her back was delightful.

"You were right," Josephine whispered. "Everything is so beautiful from up here..." She looked down, little bits of her silky black hair dangling free from its style and brushing against her soft brown skin. Moonlight framed her, and Semiha couldn't help but think that she was the holiest one of them both. "Is this what I look like to you?" She asked, smiling. "Everyone must seem like ants to a giant."

"I think you're the biggest person I've ever met," she said, transfixed by Josephine's beauty. "Wait, no, that sounds awful!" She blushed, silver skin darkening on her cheeks. "I meant that- oh, Maker!"

Josephine laughed, one of her hands reaching down to cup Semiha's burning face. "You're a gift, truly, my Lady," she smiled, grey eyes narrowing in amusement.

"I'm an idiot."

"No, no," she said, smiling ever so softly as she shook her head. One of her gentle hands stroked one of Semiha's long, black horns. "Do not devalue yourself. You're the most wonderful woman I've ever met."

"Oh." Semiha moved her eyes back to looking forward at the mountains.

That soft hand kept gliding over one of her horns, the nerves buried deep inside it lighting up in warmth, making her stomach flutter. "Thank you for bringing me up here, my Lady."

"It's my pleasure, really, Josie," Semiha said back, her hands squeezing gently at the ankles they held.

"A lesser woman would not dare remove me from my study," she said, laughing softly to herself. "It takes talent, that's for sure."

"Well, I'm glad I can accomplish such a feat," Semiha laughed. "It's worth the initial glares if they mean I can spend time with you." The hand on her horn was a little distracting, but she didn't dare tell Josephine to stop. The human likely thought there wasn't any feeling in the appendage. She chanced a glance upward, watching Josephine just bask in the pale moonlight. For all the Antivan-ness she embodied, she looked remarkably beautiful in the white light of the moon. No matter how beautiful she looked in that yellow dress, Semiha was certain that shimmery white fabric would suit her perfectly, too. Her eyelids felt a little heavy, but not from exhaustion—no, Josephine was painfully easy to lift—but from the tenderness with which the woman was stroking her horn.

"My Lady?" The question made her blink her eyes wide in sudden alertness. "Is this distracting?"

"What? Your beauty?"

"Oh, shush," Josephine smiled, shaking her head. "My hand. On your horn."

"Oh, no, no," Semiha said, trying to laugh away any embarrassment of her enjoyment being caught. "You're fine, I don't mind."

She pursed her lips for a second in thought before speaking. "Would you mind setting me down?"

"Of course not," Semiha replied, kneeling on the stone. "Sorry, were you getting dizzy up there?"

"Oh, no, it was lovely," Josephine said, bending over and kissing Semiha on the forehead. It was nice to have her bending over for kisses for once. "I have a feeling my hand was a little... unwanted?"

"What? No," Semiha said, taking Josephine's hand in hers. "You weren't doing anything wrong."

"You were fondling my leg like you were anxious."

"Oh," Semiha said, quiet as the blush resurfaced. "Sorry, then, I didn't know I was doing that." Josephine just raised an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe it felt nice," Semiha said, nervously smiling and rubbing her shoulder.

Josephine just sat down, her puffy yellow dress looking dreadfully out of place on the muted grey ramparts. "Here," she said, patting her lap. Semiha's jacket hung loose over her shoulders. "Do join me with my fellow ants, my Lady."

Semiha smiled and sat down, allowing Josephine to gently pull her down so that her head was resting in her lap. She felt the human's soft hands back on her horns, gently rubbing them up and down over the ring-like grooves. "Josie, you're an angel," she said, her eyes closing.

"With all you do for me, my Lady, this is the least I can do," Josephine said, her voice soft. The silk of her dress was ever so perfect against Semiha's bare neck, her frizzy, tightly curled silver hair up in her usual twin buns around her horns. "You look beautiful, you know."

"There's no need to flatter me," Semiha said, her eyes still gently closed. It wasn't as if she thought herself ugly, but rather that taking a compliment from someone as beautiful as Josephine was impossible.

"No, no, you do," Josephine said. Her voice was so soft, so sweet, that Semiha had to open her eyes. She peered up at Josephine's tender grey eyes, watching them follow the path of her hand as it ran along one of Semiha's long, upward-waving black horns. "Your black horns, white hair, silver skin... my Lady, you do look like a painting," she said, her voice almost like she were worshiping. "You get compliments on your strength and your intelligence and your kindness... When was the last time someone told you that you were the most beautiful woman in Thedas?"

"Josie..." Semiha couldn't help but blush, silver cheeks darkening to a blackish hue. "You're exaggerating."

"You drag me up here in the middle of the night, in the cold, only to accuse me of lying to your face?" Josephine said, mocking offense. "Cruel, you are!" A hand left Semiha's horn to cup her soft jaw. "I am your Ambassador. It is my job to appease nobles, to secure alliances, and to make those in power wish to join the Inquisition. You, my Lady, Semiha, you are not a noble to be appeased. It is not my job to play to any vanity of yours."

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Semiha asked, smiling. Her large grey hand reached up to cover Josephine's. "Maker."

"I do believe it was that bouquet of roses you sent to me mere weeks after meeting me," Josephine said, laughing.

"The ones Leliana's crows tried to eat?" Semiha had been mortified to find out her attempt to win over the beautiful Ambassador had been picked apart by the Spymaster's hungry corvids.

"The very same." And yet Josephine had accepted them with a smile and had let them rest in a vase on her desk for weeks to follow, half-eaten petals and all. She had claimed she had no idea who sent them, but of course Leliana had allegedly let it slip to her that a certain weak-kneed qunari had left them there. "The moonlight looks most wonderful on you, my Lady." She smiled ever so sweetly. Semiha doubted she'd done a single thing in her life to warrant such tender affection. "You glow like a freshly polished piece of jewelry, you know. Not that I'm saying you're an object!" She said, quickly correcting herself.

Semiha just laughed, utterly in love with the way a woman who excelled in the art of words could ever fumble over them. "I would be delighted to be a piece of silver for you, Josie," she smiled, taking Josephine's hand to her lips and kissing it. Such a soft hand, so delicate and feminine in her own, unhardened by the physical labor so below her princess-like self. Semiha loved Josephine's hands.

"Ah, I'm glad," she said, her smile widening. She shivered, and Semiha sat up, wrapping an arm around her small frame.

"Should we go in? I don't want one of my advisors catching a cold."

"You just want an excuse to get me into bed," Josephine said back, turning and looking up at Semiha.

She just shrugged, smiling. "Hey, you don't sleep enough and my room is close," she said, trying to stay nonchalant and failing miserably. "Not to mention, but, uh, I've got a qunari-sized bed..."

"Orlesian noble, you mean."

"Qunari physically, Orlesian egotistically," Semiha shrugged, laughing. "Come on, let me pick you up." She stood up, scooping the human into her arms. Josephine let herself be carried all the way to Semiha's room, easily shedding Semiha's jacket and her dress.

Both clad in nothing but their undergarments, Semiha couldn't help but wrap her giant body around the human, cocooning her in a tangle of warm, grey limbs.

"Goodnight, my Lady," Josephine hummed against Semiha's chest, her face pressed against large breasts.

"Night, Josie," Semiha whispered back, breathing in the scent of her perfect, princess-y hair. Moonlight streamed in through a jar windows, lighting up the inky locks. No matter how beautiful she looked in the sun, Semiha knew that Josephine shined just as brightly beneath the moon.

[notso-average-writer]

Club Night Light - Michelangelo

Prompt: The reader sings at a mutant club. This is the turtle’s first time hearing of this, let’s see how this turns out?

Warnings: None, it might be lowkey trash, though.

Side note: The reader is female in this one, but if this gets a good amount of notes, I’ll gladly post a male/gender neutral one. Also, please click the links before each one. They help you understand the way the songs are performed. (I love PostModern Jukebox so much, oh my goodness.)

Enjoy!

Ain't No Rest For The Wicked - Cover by Joey Cook

Y/n swerved through the roaming bodies throughout the club. She carried a serving plate over her head to avoid dropping any dishes to the kitchen a few feet away. Once there, she pushed her head up to the window to speak with head chef,

“Hey, Marty, I’m gonna go! Monica is here to take my place!” She yelled referring to her coworker that just clocked in. Marty gave her a thumbs up and continued to cook the food on the stovetop. Y/n untied her apron and tossed it over her shoulder. She then ran  to her dressing room, and Immediately changed into her performance outfit.

Y/n worked as a waitress at the club on most nights. At the end of her shifts, she would perform a set on stage. For the past couple months, she would run back and forth from home, school, the turtle’s lair and work. Her life was all jumbled up and unorganized, singing was the only thing that felt systematic and organized.

After stripping of her work uniform, she slipped on a short, long sleeve, shimmery, black and gold striped dress that stopped just above her knees. She smiled as she looked in the full length mirror and adjusted her hair. Even with the almost disco ball looking dress, she felt as if her look wasn’t bright enough. She decided to go in her bag and pull out a small container of body glitter and dabbed an enormous amount under her eyes. She then put on lipgloss to finish the look.

Not even a minute later, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in!” She called and the door opened to reveal, Butch, the stage manager.

“Y/n, what are you doin? You're on in 2 minutes!” he questioned rather loudly. Y/n’s eyes widened and quickly trailed behind Butch down the narrow hallway.

Once behind the curtain, she could hear the voice Charliee, the club owner, speaking into the microphone.

“And now, Miss Y/n!” He announced and walked off the stage. Looking down at her feet, she noticed that she forgot to put on shoes before leaving her dressing room.

“Oh well.” she shrugged and walked out on stage.

After adjusting the mic stand to her height, she nodded to band to the left of her. The vibrations of music shook the stage under her feet, bringing the tempo through her body and to her hands, she snapped on tempo.

“I was walking down the street when out the corner of my eye

I saw a pretty little thing approaching me

She said, "I never seen a man, who looks so all alone

And could you use a little company?

If you can pay the right price, your evening will be nice

But you can go and send me on my way"

I said, "You're such a sweet young thing, why you do this to yourself?"

She looked at me and this is what she said”  She sang lively while kicking her feet behind her and wiggling her fingers.

"Oh there ain't no rest for the wicked

Money don't grow on trees

I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed

There ain't nothing in this world for free

Oh no, I can't slow down, I can't hold back

Though you know, I wish I could

Oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked

Until we close our eyes for good” She vocalized with her eyes closed. She then freed the mic from its stand and held on to its cord.

“Not even fifteen minutes later after walking down the street

When I saw the shadow of a man creep out out of sight

And then he swept up from behind, he put a gun up to my head

He made it clear he wasn't looking for a fight

He said, "Give me all you've got, I want your money not your life

But if you try to make a move I won't think twice"

I told him, "You can have my cash, but first you know I gotta ask

What made you want to live this kind of life?"

He said”  She walked to the end of the stage and snatched the hat off of someone's head. The mutant laughed and clapped, earning cheers and claps from the audience.

“Oh there ain't no rest for the wicked

Money don't grow on trees

I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed

There ain't nothing in this world for free

Oh no, I can't slow down, I can't hold back

Though you know, I wish I could

Oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked

Until we close our eyes for good”  the voice of Y/n de crescendoed along with the most of the band. Letting the clarinet have room for its solo. Y/n snapped her fingers and swayed her body along with the still beating tempo.

"That’s my baby up there! Woo!” A familiar voice shouted from the crowd, making Y/n turn her head and scan the crowd. Almost immediately, she spotted the blue eyed turtle, a smile reached her face and she continued to sing. The rest of the band quieted down, with only the bass player strumming on the strings. Y/n continued to snap along tempo.

"Well now a couple hours past and I was sitting in my house

The day was winding down and coming to an end

And so I turned on the TV and flipped it over to the news

And what I saw I almost couldn't comprehend

I saw a preacher man in cuffs, he'd taken money from the church

He'd stuffed his bank account with righteous dollar bills

But even still I can't say much because I know we're all the same

Oh yes we all seek out to satisfy those thrills” she sang gradually getting louder, with the band joining back in with the same volume as before. She looked in the audience to see most of them dancing and laughing, Mikey included.

“Oh there ain't no rest for the wicked

Money don't grow on trees

We got bills to pay, we got mouths to feed

There ain't nothing in this world for free

Oh no we can't slow down, we can't hold back

Though you know we wish we could

Oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked

Until we close our eyes for good” she sang the chorus once more.

“For good.”

She finished with her hands in the air. The audience's applause was almost deafening afterwards, she bowed and blew a kiss to the crowd.

“Thank you, Goodnight!” She bidded as the exited the stage.

Once backstage, she ran to her dressing room to grab her things. She then ran to the main floor to meet Mikey. Her eyes searched the sea of people, her eyebrows furrowing as she didn't see the familiar face she was looking for.

“Hey, Baby cakes.” Mikey said as he snuck behind Y/n and grabbed her shoulders. Y/n jumped slightly and turned around with a grin. She jumped in his open arms and laughed. Mikey squeezed her and rubbed her back.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you were a superstar?” He asked as they walked back to the lair.

“Soon, I swear!” She replied giggling.