#i’ve never heard an american CALL A PIZZA BY NAME!

[gaycousinlarry]

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#i just realized…. #pizzas might not be called the same things in other countries??? #like…. #everyone on here hating on pineapple on pizza #and i just went ’just say you hate hawaii pizza’ #and… #i’ve never heard an american CALL A PIZZA BY NAME!? #!?!? #you’re always like ‘i like pepperoni/ham/mushroom pizza’ #i’m… #g do j ja fug this is so stupid but… #👀

[cutesilyo]

i know your eyes in the morning sun — an indophil fanfic

When a homesick Indonesia is unexpectedly taken out of his meeting for a day trip in Rome with Philippines, he isn't expecting much more than exhaustion ahead of him. Instead, what happens is a whirlwind of food, fun, and a surprising amount of reflection on their histories and differences as nations. And as he looks deeper and deeper in the other nation's bright eyes, he learns to come to terms with the feelings he's been ignoring for far, far too long.

Alternatively: a nation who's too attached to the past goes on a date with a nation whose entire philosophy is built on trying to live in the moment. Yes, there is kissing involved.

Also available on AO3, FF.net

—

“Tell me why we’re here again,” Indonesia groused.

“Unofficially, it’s because I’m busting you out of that damn meeting.” Philippines grinned, his purple eyes glinting mischievously under Rome’s bright sun. “Officially, it’s because we’re on a date.”

All Indonesia could do was sigh. He had arrived in Italy two days ago for a G20 summit, and all the meetings he’s had to attend since then had left him tired and restless. It would have been easier if it was like a normal ASEAN meeting, where he was at least familiar and friendly with all the members. But in the G20, he was the sole Southeast Asian nation there, and he found it difficult to get a word in everyone else’s chaos. Most of the time, he simply preferred to keep his head down and daydream about going back home.

It was during his third-favorite daydream (a peaceful afternoon at Borobudur, dressed in gold just like the old days) that Philippines had burst through the doors with his perpetually bright eyes and cheeky smile. Before he could even process what was happening, Philippines was happily dragging him out of the room while everybody else waved them goodbye.

And that’s how Indonesia found himself in his current predicament. Outside some random pizzeria in a foreign country, dazed out of his wits, and with the one nation who got under his nerves the easiest.

He really wanted to go home.

“Oh, don’t give me that look!” Philippines patted him on the shoulder with a laugh, and Indonesia couldn’t help but tense uncomfortably. “It's not like this is a real date, I just made up some lame excuse to get them off my back. Besides, you were bored out of your mind there, weren’t you? I bet you weren’t even listening. You were probably thinking about your temples.”

“No,” he denied, but the other nation simply smirked knowingly. He felt his face go red in embarrassment. “Well, can you blame me? I don’t feel right around all those Westerners . . .”

Philippines just laughed at him as they walked in.

There wasn’t much to walk into. It wasn’t a fancy restaurant, but just a small family-owned business that only had two round tables to the side. Other than them, there didn’t seem to be any other customers. Different flavors of pizza were behind glass, oddly rectangular in shape rather than the circular pizzas he was used to seeing in advertisements, but their names and prices went unlabeled. Even if they were, he doubted that it would help him much; while he was steadily getting used to English, the Romance languages were an entirely different matter.

“Buonasera,” the middle-aged woman behind the counter greeted them.

Indonesia could only nod awkwardly in response, but Philippines grinned cheerily. “Buonasera! Ciao bella, come stai?”

The two struck up a light conversation while he tried to decide what kind of pizza to get. He was used to thick-crusted, American-style pizzas, and he really didn’t see the point of eating something so expensive when a good terang bulan was always available. Besides, even if he didn’t particularly like pizza, he could see that the ones available here were an entirely different beast from the ones Pizza Hut sold at home. Much more greens and vegetables, for one.

Indonesia hoped he didn’t look too clueless when Philippines finally turned to ask him what kind of pizza he wanted. He just pointed at a random one and prayed for the best.

The other nation looked amused, but he didn’t comment any further. He just turned back to the woman and presumably rattled off their order in rapid-fire Italian that he could barely catch. They continued their conversation from where they left off, and whatever it was that Philippines was saying, it made the woman blush like a maiden. Suddenly, for a reason that he refused to name, he felt consumed by irritation.

His stony silence continued until the woman had given them their pizza, warm and each slice served in a small tray, and bid them goodbye. He’d barely given them a glance until they sat down on a bench just outside the pizzeria.

“So, what do you think?” Philippines asked him. He seemed more excited than he was. “This is your first, right?”

“I’ve eaten pizza before,” he grumbled.

“But this is different,” the other nation insisted. “This is pizza al taglio, Rome’s specialty! Come on, just start eating it already. I could hear your stomach grumbling since we left the meeting room.”

Indonesia stared at the pizza dubiously, ignoring how quickly Philippines was eating his own slice just beside him, before giving it a bite.

It was . . . good.

Not that he was going to tell the other nation that. He couldn’t bear the smug smirk that would be thrown his way.

Instead, he said, “It’s folded. It’s like a sandwich.”

“Boo,” Philippines stuck his tongue out at him. “If you must know, it’s called panino and it’s a lot better than eating it unfolded.”

“Unfolded,” Indonesia repeated. “You mean, like normal?”

Philippines gasped overdramatically. “I can’t believe you just said that! No, pizza al taglio is supposed to be eaten panino! Just ask Romano, he’ll say it's the best.”

“And I imagine if you ask Italy Veneziano, he’d say the opposite.” He took another bite, careful not to let any of the grease on his hands, and hummed appreciatively. “I think I ordered something different though.”

Philippines just laughed, a bit sheepishly. "I . . . may have taken the liberty of changing your order. The one you pointed at back there had pork sausage slices on it, so I got you something more halal. That one has arugula and mozzarella, and I know you like things a bit spicy, so I asked the lady to give you something more piccante. This slice has pepper flakes baked in the dough."

"Oh," he blinked, a bit stunned. Indonesia felt warmer than the pizza in his hands. "Terima kasih."

"Hey, as long as you're here with me, ako bahala sa'yo." Philippines stood up and grinned at him, eyes bright and his half-eaten pizza in his hand. "You know, the best thing about pizza panino is that you can eat them while we're on the go! How about we walk around the city, and I'll take you out on a real date?"

------

This was a mistake.

He and Philippines have never really hung out together much; either they only met for formal occasions or they were always joined by at least one other ASEAN member, so the chances they had to be alone were usually few and far in between. If he was being honest, it was probably better for his heart that way.

Still, he probably should've known better than to let Philippines take charge, because his definition of walking around and the other nation's idea of walking around were vastly different things. For one, he'd definitely rather be driving rather than walking anyway. It didn't help that he was still stuck in his stuffy formal suit and dress shoes, while Philippines was both comfy and stylish in his boots, jeans, and a fashionable overcoat. And though he preferred to get to his destinations as quickly and efficiently as possible, Philippines loved making stops at every little statue or shop that interested him. What's worse is that he couldn't just leave the other nation behind — between the two of them, Philippines was the only one who actually knew how to speak Italian and knew how to get around the city. His only choices were to suffer alone in a foreign land or to slowly murder his feet following Philippines around, and just this once, he'd rather swallow his pride.

"If only my motorcycle was here . . ." Indonesia sighed. "How long are you going to take?"

"Just a bit longer!" He heard Philippines shout from the back of the souvenir shop. "My neighbors would never forgive me if I didn't get them anything, you know!"

He was idly inspecting a small plastic replica of the Coliseum when the other nation emerged a few minutes later, proudly carrying about a dozen silver keychains in his hands. Indonesia couldn't stop himself from grimacing at them; in rupiahs, that was probably the cost of a plane ticket.

"You aren't going to buy anything?" Philippines said. He was fiddling around his pockets for spare coins. He seemed to have forgotten that his wallet was probably in the small leather bag he was carrying, and Indonesia didn't feel like telling him.

"Pass," he said. "I'll wait outside, if you don't mind."

Philippines shrugged, turning back to the cashier. "Suit yourself."

As soon as he stepped out into the cobblestone streets, he immediately felt restless for a smoke. The architecture, the weather, the people . . . it all just reminded him how far away from home he was. It was autumn in Italy, colder than it would ever get at his house, and with a sharp pang of his heart he realized how much he missed everyone.

He started worrying about whether Singapore had gotten enough sleep last night, because often the young nation would look at data until the sun rose, looking for where he could make himself stronger. And Malaysia got dehydrated too easily for someone with his water resources, so he always had to remind him about refilling his water dispensers every once and a while. Brunei had always been quiet, but he'd been too reclusive than was healthy these days; and even though Timor-Leste couldn't face him sometimes, he still hoped she was doing alright. He trusted Thailand and Vietnam could handle everything over at the mainland, but he couldn't help but be concerned about them anyway.

Then there was the nation he was with right now.

All of a sudden, he felt a warm breath on his neck and a whispered: "You're scaring the other tourists, mahal."

Indonesia barely held back a scream, furiously turning to face a mirthful Philippines that was clearly having the time of his life teasing him. "Would you stop scaring me like that? And don't call me mahal!"

Philippines just waved him off with a laugh. "Please, that was barely a scare. And you deserve it! I thought the way you kept staring at my bag was weird, but you meant to tell me my money was in it, right? Silly Indonesia, I can't know things if you don't actually say it."

"Don't blame me for your denseness," he shot back. "Besides, your idea of a date must be really sloppy if all you do is take me to tourist shops. Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Are you saying you wanted something more romantic? Oh Indonesia, how bold of you!" Philippines looked at him slyly.

He was suddenly reminded of how difficult it could be to talk to Philippines sometimes. "I just thought you'd take me to actual places, like the Coliseum. Or maybe a castle, I don't know."

They walked together in amiable silence towards a nearby bus stop. He almost cried in relief when they finally sat down after what felt like hours of walking. Maybe Indonesia was just feeling his age, but he was not nearly as full of energy as the nation beside him.

"I know you've been to the Coliseum before, so taking you there isn't nearly as exciting," said Philippines, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone. "Just so you know."

"Everything always has to be exciting for you," said Indonesia, with a huff.

The other nation winked at him. "What can I say? I love a little thrill."

He couldn't help but be amused at that. Whether it was thrill rides or thriller horror movies, Philippines was always raring to go. Still, though he was grateful, he was starting to feel a bit guilty about all the trouble he put the other nation through. He knew Philippines could be impulsive, but he didn't think he was the kind of person to drop everything and fly to Europe just to rescue him from another boring meeting. "I've been meaning to ask, but how did you end up in Italy anyway? I'd hate to think that you spent so much money just to go here."

"Don't worry! I didn't come to Europe for you," Philippines grinned brightly. "You're just a stop on the destination. I'm actually headed to Munich."

Ah. For some reason, that only made Indonesia feel worse.

"See, when I'm in Europe, I like to start by visiting the Vatican," the other nation continued. "Then Germany said that he had a meeting in Rome too, so we were planning to catch the train together. Didn't you notice that he was rushing to end your meetings as quickly as possible? It's Oktoberfest, you know."

Indonesia nodded slowly. "I guess September does end next week . . . ?"

"Dios mio," Philippines laughed. "I mean the beer festival, not the month. I'd invite you to join us but I know you don't drink."

"Even if I did, I don't think I could keep up with you and Germany," he admitted, which made the other nation's eyes twinkle with pride. "That still doesn't explain why you decided to crash the meeting."

"That's just because you weren't checking WhatsApp, which I'm grateful for." Philippines handed him his phone, which was opened to the group conversation they had with the rest of the ASEAN nations. "Here, I bet you left your phone at the hotel or something."

He did, but that was beside the point. Indonesia took the phone.

The first thing he saw was a selfie of Philippines at the airplane, snuggled up under the airline's provided blanket. Just boarded from Dubai! Be arriving at Fiumicino by morning, anything you guys want?

Abang is in Rome too, isn't he? Malaysia had asked. In that case, the both of you should bring back gifts! I need the best cheese for my sea cucumbers. Also, remember the keychains.

Singapore had sent one of his custom stickers. The merlion was sticking its tongue out.

Stop being so mean to him, or else he'll end up crying to me again, Thailand replied.

Not my problem he's a crybaby, Singapore said. Then he sent another merlion sticker.

Vietnam sent a laughing emoji, and then: You should visit Indo while you're there. You know how sad he gets when he has to go abroad alone.

Malaysia sent a GIF of a crying scene from some old movie.

Eh? But if I'm going to visit him, I want it to be a surprise! Philippines had whined. If he goes online soon, he'll already know. No fun in that.

It should be okay. He's probably asleep now anyway. And he doesn't check his phone during meetings, unlike you, Thailand pointed out.

It will be good for him to see a friendly face, Vietnam added.

Take care of him lah, Singapore had said. Make sure he enjoys himself this time.

PIRI WAIT I HAVE A GREAT IDEA, chatted Malaysia. I'll DM you just in case, so abang can't find out. He'll love it, trust me!

Oh no, said Vietnam, Thailand, and Singapore in separate, individual messages, to which Malaysia simply replied with another GIF. Brunei even mustered the energy to send a worried-looking emoji.

The last message, sent earlier this afternoon, was a selfie of Philippines with a cheeky grin. He was standing just outside the meeting room, and he had sent it with the caption: He won't know what hit him! <3

Indonesia sat there in stunned silence for a few minutes, until he was nudged gently.

"Come on, the bus is here," Philippines stood, putting his hands on his hips. Then he frowned at him. "Hey, Indonesia, is there anything wrong? You look a bit shaken."

"No, everything's fine, I just," he stammered. There was such a powerful feeling in his heart that he didn't have the capacity to explain. "Um, I don't have my phone with me, so. Please thank everyone for keeping me in their thoughts. Tell them I'm doing my best to make all of you proud."

The other nation stared at him for a moment, then smiled.

If Indonesia let a few tears drop while they were on the bus, Philippines was kind enough not to say a word.

-----

Their stop was on top of a hill. There was an impressively large monument of a man on a horse, but Philippines dragged him to the nearby café as soon as they got off the bus, and Indonesia realized that he was probably better off with a nice snack than looking at some old statue anyway. To be fair, he had been waiting for dessert all day long, and the crepes were warm and delicious and more than enough to satisfy his sweet tooth. He finished his in record time, and bought another one right after.

"Ah, there's that smile," Philippines teased, once Indonesia had returned to their spot. "I was wondering where it went."

He was too engrossed with his enjoying his food to respond, but he motioned go on.

"It's just—I've seen you with tourists, you know." Philippines delicately sipped on his drink, slow and careful like an old cat. "Remember when we had that ASEAN hang-out at Bali? The restaurant near our hotel was full of foreign customers, and the staff was overwhelmed, so you decided to help the staff serve tables and entertain the guests. You seemed really friendly there."

"You knew about that?" Indonesia flushed with embarrassment. He thought he managed to sneak out successfully; it was at the point that Vietnam and Laos got crazy drunk, after all. "Well, it's very different dealing with foreigners at my home and actually being in a foreign place."

Philippines hummed contemplatively. "I think I get it. You feel more in control when it's them coming to you, rather than the other way around."

"Yeah, I suppose so." He crumpled the wrapping paper in his hands. "It's different for you though, right? I think you're more used to foreigners than I am."

The other nation laughed nervously. "I'm not sure Boracay and El Nido can even compare—"

"I'm not talking about tourists."

He knew, of course, that Philippines met with many nations as part of his duties, but he had always taken to this role so naturally that Indonesia could only assume that his history had given him a leg up. Spain was stricter on imposing his culture on the other nation than Netherlands ever was with him, or England with Malaysia and Singapore. America was just as obnoxiously stubborn when he colonized him right after. And although he never forgot his roots as part of Southeast Asia, Philippines also kept much less of his pre-colonial culture and history than the rest of them. Anything before Spain took him away was hazy and, as far as his memory was concerned, he had spent his youth growing up with the Americas and Europe — and with his mannerisms and how close he was with the Western nations, he certainly acted like it.

When Philippines arrived at the meeting earlier, everyone was accepting him with open arms. Spain had fondly ruffled his hair and America invited him to a party at his place next week. France had cooed adoringly at how much he had grown since his youth and England reminded him that he was due to visit London's hospitals in the next month. Germany's cheeks were pink as he asked how he was doing and Italy immediately began talking his ear off about food recipes and restaurants. Mexico began crying with joy at the sight of him, while Argentina and Brazil embraced him like family. It was a miracle that the both of them were able to leave as quickly as they did; he was sure that they'd make Philippines stay for at least another hour, if they could.

Meanwhile, Indonesia's own presence was always forgotten. The only time he was talked to the entire meeting was when Australia made an awkward half-joke, half-apology about the spying issue again.

"I guess it's easier for me to relate to them," Philippines admitted, a melancholy look in his eyes. He was looking down at his still half-eaten crepe with an oddly bittersweet smile on his lips; the sun, only just beginning to set, cast a dark shadow on his face. "And for them to relate to me. But I would be lying if I said I don't feel out of place with them too, sometimes. Despite everything, we're still very different. Besides, all the cultural similarities in the world can't make up for the fact that I'm so far away from them all. There just isn't enough opportunity for me to talk to them as much as they can talk to each other."

Indonesia didn't know what to say to that. He settled for a neutral, "I'm sorry I brought it up."

The other nation waved it off. "I'll forgive you if you take a selfie with me later."

He didn't have any choice but to accept.

As he waited for Philippines to finish his food, Indonesia took the time to observe the other people around. Many of them were trying to take a picture with the huge statue, but there were also families walking around with their happily enthusiastic children. If he looked farther, he could see busts of what he assumed were various historical figures lining the pathways. Going by the number of cars that had been parked just across them, it seemed like the park was of good interest for both tourists and locals alike. There were enough people to suggest that the place was well-loved, but there were nowhere near the crowds he'd see when he passed by the other popular tourist destinations. The statue of the man with a horse was large and grand, but he didn't recognize it; he was sure that, whatever this place was, it wasn't featured on the usual travel brochures.

"I'm curious," he said slowly, "as to why you're so familiar with Rome."

Philippines gave him a wry twitch of the lips, sitting his chin on the palm of his hands. "I thought we were done talking about me and the West?"

"This is different," he defended. "I'm just asking why you know about this place. Italy never took us anywhere like this for the G20 formalities."

"Well, of course he wouldn't," he said, idly swirling his drink around. "Just think: if you have a nice and peaceful park that's meant more for relaxation and you also have more famous and historically significant places available, then you would rather take your visiting diplomats to the latter, right? So Italy takes you to Palatino and Campidoglio instead of here. If it were you hosting the meeting, you'd take them to Monas instead of Taman Surapati."

Indonesia thought about that for a moment, but no matter how much he wanted to argue, he was forced to accept that Philippines was right. Then he frowned. "But you just take everyone to Luneta."

The other nation winked. "It's to my benefit that Luneta just happens to be both historical, relaxing, and beautiful. Makes my life a lot easier."

"You're not actually answering my question," he pointed out.

Philippines simply hummed, leaning back on his chair. His hair was blowing in the cold autumn breeze. "There's not much to say. I've had to visit a lot recently, since Italy is full of my migrant workers, more so than anywhere else in Europe. But when we were younger, Romano used to take me here often. The things he'd say — well, now that I think about it, I think you could relate."

He almost choked on his spit. Indonesia had never been in much contact with Romano, especially as his younger brother was always the one who represented Italy in their meetings, but he couldn't see any similarity between him and that foul-mouthed, angry brat. At the very least, he liked to think he was much more friendly and polite.

Uncharacteristically, the other nation didn't take the opportunity to laugh at him this time. Instead there was only a faraway look on his face, pensive as he stared out into somewhere unknown.

After a moment, Philippines finally said: "Do you still remember being with your old empires?"

Indonesia stilled.

"I know I don't, but you were old enough to remember living with the other maritime nations together as Nusantara," the other nation continued. "There was a glory that you could remember living before Portugal and Netherlands came to your shores. You weren't Majapahit, but you carried his legacy and his blood; just like you carried Srivijaya's.

"Romano lived at Spain's like I did, you know. He liked me for some reason, probably because I used to get sick all the time and couldn't really annoy him as much as the others. One day, he took me to Rome for the first time. I was so amazed at finally seeing all the old ruins I used to read about in books, and then when I looked back at him, he was crying. He told me it was like he could never escape the shadow of his grandfather."

Philippines' smile was terribly bittersweet. "I remember thinking that, for the first time, I was grateful I couldn't remember who I was before Spain came. And ever since I met you again, I kept wondering if you ever felt like Romano did. Maybe you had all that burden on you and you never told us. Maybe you felt lonely too."

He remembered.

Back when all of them were just children, back when he had never seen fair skin except for when he traded with the Eastern Asian nations up north. China and India, of course, were always present. Vietnam was older, and despite all the fighting she did, it never looked like she was ever frazzled by it. Myanmar was the same, but because he was so distant and preoccupied with his own kingdoms, Indonesia saw him the least. He would see Khmer more often when she had to pick up her sons, cheerful Thailand, friendly Laos, and belligerent Cambodia, from whenever they decided to come by. In their household, Malaysia was already energetic, but he was always doubly so whenever Singapore was around; those were the days that the smaller nation still admired his brother. Timor Leste was still sweet and shy, hiding behind him at every hint of danger. Brunei, quiet as ever, spent his time diligently picking flowers for a young Philippines across the sea. Steady, dependable Majapahit had welcomed them all with a smile, and taught him to do the same.

Indonesia grew up without ever really knowing what loneliness was. Even after Majapahit had already faded away, Netherlands had visited him much more often than was necessary or appropriate for a normal colonial relationship. And though he was separated from the rest of them, his siblings were never too far from him either.

So he had to take care of them too, when he could. He had to, because he was the one who remembered the most about what life was like, before. He had to, because he was the oldest. He had to, because that was what Majapahit taught him. Whether he began to feel more and more weary as the centuries passed by and his own territory expanded didn't matter, because being able to take care of as many people as he could — that was the greatest power any nation could ever have.

Of course he remembered. He never let himself forget.

A gentle nudge from Philippines shook him out of his silence. Softly, he said, "You don't have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable. Believe it or not, even I know when to back off."

"Sorry, you just caught me off-guard," he said, taking a moment to compose himself. Then Indonesia sighed. "You're not normally so serious. I was completely unprepared."

Philippines pouted. "Is it really all that surprising? I just thought, since you asked me a pretty personal question just now, it's only fair that I do the same to you. Answering that made me feel sad, so you needed to think of something that made you sad too! At least the both of us can feel sad together, instead of just me being sad all on my own."

Indonesia felt his eye twitch. "Your logic is really something."

The other nation just laughed, as if nothing happened at all. Then he stood, his grin wide and his hand reaching out to him, and said, "Come on, it's a complete waste for us to come here if all we're going to do is sit around! You can see all of Rome from Gianicolo, you know."

They watched the sunset from the hill's peak, and seeing the yellows and oranges being reflected in Philippines' purple eyes made for a pretty sight. As the sun shone its last light on the ancient ruins of the Roman Empire, Indonesia felt strangely at peace for the first time since he arrived. Maybe he'd even ask Philippines to properly introduce him to Romano one day.

-----

The Eternal City was beautiful even at night, but Indonesia just felt tired. He could sense that Philippines still wanted to go around with him — he mentioned something about taking him to a turtle fountain? — so they settled for slowly walking down the hill. They chatted about mundane things like food, gaming, and the merits of motorcycles over bikes, and it was unexpectedly nice. For some reason, Indonesia felt as light as air. He still wanted to go home as soon as he could, but he slowly realized that he wasn't all that opposed to just spending time with the other nation either.

"Say, Indonesia," Philippines suddenly said. "Do you know how to get back to your hotel?"

Indonesia took that back. He wanted to go home immediately.

The other nation giggled. "Don't tell me that you don't even remember which hotel you're staying at?"

He quickly turned his head away. He willed himself to look anywhere but the other nation, but he could still feel how Philippines was staring at him.

"Ah! I get it now," Philippines said, delightedly. Indonesia internally cursed himself. "Let me guess. You didn't have any plans of going anywhere but the meeting, the hotel, and the airport, so you thought it was fine if you left your phone behind and if you didn't care to remember your hotel's name. And, you kept falling asleep at the hotel shuttle that takes you to the meetings, so you can't even tell me about the nearby landmarks! My, how careless of you, Indonesia!"

"Why are you so smart," Indonesia grumbled, "for the most stupid of things?"

"I don't hear any denial," Philippines sang. "Well, whatever, that works out for me. Unless you're game for scouring through the dozens of hotels around the city, I guess I have no choice but to take you back to my place, huh?"

He faced Philippines, who was scrolling through his phone again, and said, "You don't have to do that. You can probably just ask Italy which hotel he arranged for me. I can take a taxi."

The other nation hummed. "Going from his Instagram stories, he looks like he's too busy partying with the others. Looks like France even brought out his special wine for the occasion. Hey, would you want to party with them? The bar they went to is just a few stations away by metro."

The last time he went to a G20 party, he and Germany were made to strip so that everyone could stare at their pecs. The expression he made must have been grim, as Philippines immediately backtracked. "I'm going to take that as a no."

Indonesia sighed. "Well, I don't want to disturb Italy and I don't want to waste any money trying to find another hotel. If you're really fine with me staying with you for the night, then I guess I have no problem with it either."

Philippines stopped in his tracks. "Eh? You're not going to make a fuss about it?"

Indonesia tilted his head, quizzically. "And you are?"

For some odd reason, the other nation seemed flustered. He was gripping the strap of his bag tightly and his cheeks were pink. "Well, you know, you're normally so averse to any of my ideas, and you always seem so annoyed with me. I thought, for sure, that you were just going to argue against me again . . ."

"Do you really think so lowly of me?" Indonesia frowned. "I wouldn't have been with you all day if I hated you."

That seemed to perk Philippines back up. He could practically see the sparkles in the other nation's eyes as he faced him and gleefully said, "Ha! You've admitted it! So if you don't hate me, does that mean that you actually like me, Indonesia?"

He couldn't hold back a smirk. "Don't get too ahead of yourself."

Philippines just laughed, cheery and bright.

When they stepped down from the bus, Indonesia was surprised to be faced with a block full of old apartment buildings rather than a fancy hotel. Evidently, the other nation was familiar to the residents; one old lady had grasped him firmly by the hand with a gummy smile as she engaged them in small talk. Philippines then took him to the second building on the right and led him through a few flights of stairs to a dark, wooden door.

The apartment was small but clean. Two bedrooms and a bathroom, then some communal space with a worn sofa and a dated television. There was a kitchen with a countertop, rice cooker unplugged, and more than a few succulents sitting by the window. The other nation's usual travel bag was still on the floor, a duffel bag easily recognizable by the numerous flag patches stitched by the sides as a memento for all the countries he had visited. A small corner was developed into a personal home altar, figures of Jesus and the Virgin Mary surrounded by flowers and golden crosses. Even though it was emptier than Philippines' own home back in Manila, it was still undeniably his in its coziness and warmth. All in all, it was modest and good; certainly more than what Indonesia expected for an apartment that the other nation probably only visited a few times a year.

"It's cute. It fits you," he said politely.

"Aw, you think I'm cute," Philippines teased. He was hanging his overcoat on the coat rack, which was a bit too tall for him — a sliver of skin showed only for a moment before being covered again by his turtleneck top. Indonesia pretended he didn't see. "Please go ahead and sit down, make yourself comfortable. Oh, won’t you take off your suit and place it somewhere? The good thing about Europe is that it’s a lot cooler here, so you can still wear it tomorrow without worrying about sweat and stuff."

“I knew that, at least.” He placed his suit on a nearby chair and sat down on the sofa. Philippines set a saucer full of biscuits at the table and gave him a glass of water, which he gratefully drank. As the other nation sat down beside him, Indonesia couldn’t help but ask, “Is this place really yours?”

“My government didn’t buy it for me like all our other properties, if that’s what you’re asking,” Philippines said, reaching out for the biscuits. There was an audible crunch as he bit into one of them. “One of the Filipinos living here bought it for her son, but he decided to move in with his girlfriend. She thought it would be a waste of money to abandon it, so she gave it to me. When I’m not here, it gets rented as an Airbnb. We share the profits. It’s actually pretty good passive income, you know.”

Indonesia gave him a wry smile. “You always find an opportunity to make money, somehow. I’d say it’s America’s influence, but I know for a fact you’ve been this way since we were kids.”

"My skill is all mine, thank you very much," the other nation boasted, leaning back into the sofa with a self-assured smirk. “I don't suppose there's anything else you remember about me from those days? I assure you, if you thought I inherited my charm from Spain, you'd be dead wrong.”

Your hair used to be so long, he immediately thought. He had taken care of it meticulously, washing it with several oils so it was always smooth and wonderfully scented. Gold adorned almost every inch of his body, painstakingly crafted with the tiniest details, contrasting beautifully with the vibrant textiles used for his clothes. Even as a child, Philippines was already used to traveling often — Tondo and Seludong would take him up north, Butuan and Sulu down south, Sugbu and Panay at the center, and a dozen more kingdoms in between. He loved his boats the most, and Majapahit would patiently humor him by letting the younger nation talk his ear off about the latest developments his different kingdoms had with their boatmaking.

Not that he had ever tried to listen in, or attempted to make prolonged conversation with the other nation. At the time, Indonesia was too busy trying to handle Malaysia and Singapore’s chaos to pay much attention to anyone else. He hadn’t gotten to know Philippines all that well until they met again centuries later; older and more jaded, irrevocably shaped by the circumstances their colonizers had placed them in.

Sometimes he wondered what life would have been like if things had turned out differently. But he didn’t have the energy to waste his time despairing over it all again, not when Philippines was still looking at him so expectantly.

“Your eyes haven’t changed,” Indonesia decided to say. “And as for everything else I remember, there’s nothing I haven’t already told you about before.”

Philippines smiled at him fondly, “You’re as terribly succinct as ever.”

Indonesia smiled back, “And as always, you’re just as annoyingly persistent.”

For a long moment, they just sat there on the sofa in silence — easy and comfortable and bathed in the apartment’s warm, golden light. The windows were open, and guitar music from the neighbors was softly permeating the room with its slow, relaxed melody. It was during these kinds of moments that Indonesia's heart felt full; that all he's been through in the past few centuries were worth it, if it meant he could enjoy more days like this. The mood was right and he felt good; perhaps if he was braver, he would have had the confidence to make the most out of it.

Eventually, the moment passed, and the other nation stood. "It's so late already! I should probably get to preparing our dinner. You can freshen up before we eat, if you want."

"Right," Indonesia said, hastily standing up as well. "Ah, may I borrow your phone? I just need to check on something."

Philippines didn't really answer, but he heartily belted out the lyrics to some old love song as he brought out a pot and a chopping board from the kitchen cabinets, so he took it as a yes. Ignoring how the photo for the lock screen looked suspiciously like the sunrise at Bali, he put in the PIN code — 8862, how sentimental of him — and was immediately bombarded by the number of notifications he got. There were messages from everywhere: SMS, Facebook Messenger, WhatsApp, Instagram, Twitter, Telegram . . . it's really no wonder that Philippines was named both the texting and social media capital of the world. Indonesia had no interest in intruding on the other nation's privacy though. As he ducked into the bathroom to wash his face, hands, and feet, he did a quick Google search for sholat times rome.

If he was home, he wouldn't have needed to Google such a thing; the mosques would have already blared adzan through the loudspeakers, reminding everyone in close vicinity that it was time for prayer. His overseas workers would sometimes complain to him about how difficult it could be to pray once they were abroad, that strangers would sometimes gawk at them in public or their employers wouldn't give them the time or space to do it properly in the office. Indonesia often had nothing to offer them but his sympathies. Tonight, he decided, he would pray for them.

"Are you going to pray?" Philippines called out. He was placing a tray in the oven. "Head to the back, go in the room on the right. It should be peaceful there."

"Thank you," he said, and when he opened the door, he was greeted with a welcome surprise.

Though the room was otherwise plain, a vibrantly orange prayer mat stood out — Malaysia's picking, no doubt. Indonesia raised his hands facing kiblat, slow and reverent, and made the mental note to thank his brother later. Thanks to this, he felt significantly less alone.

-----

Philippines made a quick sign of the cross as he sat down on the table. He grinned, "Let's eat!"

It was a modest meal: baked fish with lemons, Filipino-style chop suey, white rice, and a bowl of what was unmistakably Indomie Mi Goreng. While Philippines had poured out a glass of white wine for himself, Indonesia had a glass of orange juice. The other nation was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meal, though Indonesia chalked that up to hunger; Philippines ate quickly and ravenously, shoving spoonfuls of rice and noodles into his mouth without pausing for so much as a single breath. Indonesia felt tired just watching him.

Once they were finished, Philippines patted his stomach with a satisfied sigh. "Ah, that's the good stuff."

"My compliments to the chef," Indonesia said, which made the other nation giggle. "Though I have to say, I would have cooked it differently."

"I know, but then it'd take longer and I was already so hungry — I'd even go as far to say that I was absolutely famished." Philippines groaned, slumping in his seat. "I mean, I know we could've just eaten at some trattoria down the road, but I needed rice. And I wasn't going to settle for some dumb risotto, no matter how delicious it would be. You get me, don't you?"

"It isn't a full meal without rice," Indonesia agreed.

The other nation nodded seriously. "I always felt like something was missing while I was growing up. It wasn't until I was allowed to go back to Manila that I figured out that it was rice. I haven't looked back since."

Indonesia had always known that Philippines had lived in Europe during the centuries that he was a Spanish colony, but hadn't thought any deeper about the smaller implications that had on him. Some things were obvious — his devout Catholicism for one, and the conspicuously Hispanic human name he used in his daily life — but little things like this caught him off-guard. He said, "I'm sincerely very sorry to hear that."

Philippines did nothing but take a long sip of his wine. "No need to pity me so much, it's in the past now. I don't really think about it."

"I'm not pitying you," he muttered, though he wasn't able to look Philippines in the eyes as he said it. Then, louder: "I'm just realizing that there's still so much I don't know about you. I'm your neighbor, and I don't even know what your childhood was like."

Philippines smiled at him, but it was strained. His face was saying I don't want to talk about it even as he softly confessed, "I don't know all about your history either, Indonesia. Not enough. The sentiment goes both ways. And as for my time with Spain . . . well, what is there to say, really? He said he would take care of me, and he didn't. Not in the same way he took care of the others. Whether that's a blessing or a curse, I don't think I'll ever really know. I just know that it's over now, and I'm grateful.

"I bet your experience was different though." The gaze the other nation leveled on him was nothing less than dangerously curious. His purple eyes were filled with strong contempt, but contempt for what, Indonesia didn't know. "Like I said, I don't know the specifics. But I've been told your relationship with Netherlands was something else entirely."

"He and I weren't—" he stammered, more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything else.

But the way Philippines was looking at him made him stop. He took a deep breath and calmed himself; the other nation deserved something more honest than that.

He still remembered how tightly Netherlands had gripped at his arm, decades and decades ago, his scarf flapping helplessly in the wind. Despite all the things that had gone unsaid between them and the years that they spent together, the blond was still unbearably silent. He used to admire that stoic demeanor; tried to emulate it when he was feeling overwhelmed, always so determined not to embarrass himself or the empire. Back when Netherlands had declared him the emerald of the equator, the crown jewel of his power as a nation . . . it had taken all he had to choke back his pride. It had taken all he had to keep his secret, that budding idea that he was meant to be more than just somebody else's precious colony.

Indië, Netherlands had pleaded, and suddenly the great Dutch Empire had seemed so small.

"It was different," he finally said. "But I don't think it was any better, in the end."

With a bittersweet smile, Philippines simply raised a toast. "To tomorrow."

In answer, Indonesia downed the rest of his orange juice in one go. This time, Philippines' laugh was more genuine, and he couldn't help but stare.

He had noticed this before, of course, but now — with the other nation elegantly sitting across him, his purple eyes glittering bright, and the wine glass so tantalizingly close to his lips — Indonesia was stricken by how right at home the other nation looked. Even Singapore, who probably had the most business with the Western countries out of them all, was more guarded whenever he stepped foot on European soil. Yet Philippines wasn't out of place here in the same way that Indonesia felt, and had instead carried the same easygoing attitude he had during their own ASEAN meetings. As much as the other nation's energy and eccentricities irked him sometimes, he also found himself in awe of him as well.

The others were right. If Philippines hadn't come, he would've spent all his free time wallowing around in his hotel room just feeling sorry for himself. But instead, he was enjoying himself more than he thought he would. Hesitant as he was to admit it, he almost found himself wanting to stay in Rome a little bit longer, if it meant the both of them could spend more time together.

"You're not leaving for Munich anytime soon, are you?" Indonesia said, daring to be hopeful.

Philippines rested his cheek on his hand. "If I remember right, the tickets Prussia bought for us were for tomorrow morning? He gets way too excited about Oktoberfest, you know."

Why do I even try to be happy, Indonesia thought darkly.

"Ah, don't look so glum! You have me all to yourself for the rest of the night," Philippines winked. "But I have to warn you, Pien is having his precious beauty sleep in my bedroom, so if you have any special requests we're going to have to be very quiet about it."

"Nothing like that," Indonesia quickly said, his face hot. "I just thought, I might as well treat you to somewhere nice. As a thank you for, uh, taking care of me today. But my flight back home is tomorrow night, and you're catching the morning train with Germany, and now I'm starting to think that we don't exactly have the time . . ."

The other nation waved it off. "We're nations, mahal. We have all the time in the world. Besides, we'll be meeting again for the APEC conference coming up in November, right? I don't mind waiting until then."

"But I do," he grumbled. "And again, don't call me mahal."

Philippines finished his drink and set his glass delicately on the table. "You can promise me that you'll let me sing half the songs when we go karaoke with the others. Or that you'll pay for my food the next time we have a group dinner. Oh! When Thailand makes a mean comment to me in the next meeting, you have to defend me. Say something like Filipino BL series are better than Thai BL series, that'll really get him going."

He was suddenly reminded of how frivolous the other nation could be sometimes. Either that, or worryingly low-maintenance. Indonesia built up the courage and forced out, "I'd rather make it up to you when the two of us are alone."

This time, it was Philippines who was staring. Flustered, Indonesia rambled on. "I just mean—you know, you spent all this time with me even though you didn't have to. So it's only right that I spend more time with you too, just the both of us. It's not good enough if the others are there too."

Philippines offered, "We could watch a movie before we sleep?"

"I'll probably just pass out in the middle."

"Maybe you can make breakfast for us tomorrow?"

"You gave me snacks, dinner, and a place to sleep, there's no way just a breakfast is fair."

"Well, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to spend a night over at your place?"

"It's not about you, not really. It's just, I want to do something for you. Something you want."

"I've been telling you what I want, but you keep saying it's not good enough, I don't understand—"

"It needs to be special, okay? Is it so bad that I want to do something nice for you—"

"It's not bad, I just don't get why you're being so picky about it. Like, isn't doing me a favor enough for you? Isn't this just about paying me back? What is it that you want to do with me exactly?"

"No," Indonesia stressed, feeling like he was about to lose his mind. "I want—"

He paused.

What did he want, exactly?

Philippines just smiled at him, patient and knowing and just the slightest bit sad, and stood. He was carrying his plate, and as he passed by Indonesia he gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. When Indonesia looked up to face him, the other nation's eyes were soft. "I know I've said this to you before, but I'll say it again. I can't know things if you don't actually say it. Alright?"

Then he walked away to the kitchen sink, absentmindedly humming to himself, leaving Indonesia all alone at the table. The words I think I want you died on his lips.

-----

Later, after reflecting during his night bath, Indonesia found himself in a panic.

He wasn't a complete idiot. He's known for a while that Philippines was the only one who could fluster him like no other, but he often chalked that up to the other nation's cheeky character rather than anything else. His attraction to Philippines wasn't surprising either; it was no secret that he liked looking pretty, and to be honest, Indonesia has had worse crushes. But he was also steadily coming to the conclusion that his feelings went deeper than mere infatuation, and he couldn't help but wonder: why fall for the other nation in particular?

Philippines was an ally, someone he had founded and managed ASEAN with in a show of regional strength. Philippines was a friend, someone he had spent countless days with over the years along with all the other people he treasured in his life. Philippines was a stranger, someone who still felt so foreign to him despite everything. He could trace out the curve of his smile in an instant, and at the same time, he didn't have the faintest idea what the other nation was doing in the 1920s. He knew that watching a cheesy romcom was the surest way of brightening up his day, but not the exact nature of what Spain had done to him as a colony. And, for the life of him, he still didn’t understand the slightest bit of how verb conjugation in Tagalog worked — which felt especially embarrassing the day he found out that Philippines had been putting in the effort to learn both Bahasa Indonesia and Bahasa Melayu so he could communicate with the rest of the maritime nations better. He'd understand his own heart easier if he fell for Malaysia or even Netherlands — people who he had shared a deep and culturally signifcant history with in his extremely long life as a nation — but Philippines was, to put it sadly, not like that to him.

And yet, as Indonesia stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, all he could think about was how much happier he looked now compared to his bleak and boring morning.

He changed into the clothes that Philippines had laid out for him on the bed and had a brief thought of just going to sleep for the night. Pramoedya, if he were still alive, would chide him for such cowardice. Indonesia ended up at the other nation's door, nervously trying to build up the courage to knock. But Philippines must have heard his footsteps, as he called out: "I know you're out there! Just come in!"

Just like him, Philippines had already bathed and changed to more casual sleepwear; he was wearing a loose sweater and shorts that showed off his legs. He was sitting upright on his bed, looking amused at whatever he was staring at on his phone screen, and his face broke out into a warm smile when he saw Indonesia hesitantly trudge inside his bedroom. Pien was already sound asleep in a little makeshift bed on the desk.

"Sit here," said Philippines, while he scooted over to give him space. Indonesia gave him a look. "I'm being serious. Just move your arms a bit and—yeah, that's it. Aren't we cozy?"

Now they were both sitting on the bed, with Philippines between his legs and his arms around Philippines' waist. Cozy was certainly a word for it.

"Now you're just teasing me," Indonesia grumbled, but he didn't move away either.

"Me? Tease you?" Philippines fluttered his eyelashes at him. "Why, I'm just a poor tropical nation made to suffer through the unbearably cold Autumn months in the Northern Hemisphere! I'm severely in need of some aid and assistance, but I'm sure you and all your hundred active volcanoes can keep me warm for tonight."

"You're horrible, you know that?" he said, though he was unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. Philippines laughed with him, giddy and gleeful. "You don't know how anxious I was before this. It's not fair that you can just make all that go away so easily."

Philippines leaned back on his chest, smug as a cat. "Call it a gift. By the way, our neighbors want to know how you're doing. Anything you want to say?"

Now that he was right behind the other nation, he could see that his phone was opened to the ASEAN group chat. It seemed like everyone was spamming the chat with pictures of their pets again. Indonesia rested his chin on Philippines' shoulder and said, "I'm doing just fine. Tell them I mean it this time."

If the other nation was flustered, he betrayed no signs of it. He had now moved on to chatting with the other ex-Spanish colonies; they were all talking in Spanish and Indonesia couldn't understand a thing. "I'll tell them when I'm sure it won't get buried by everything else. But, you know, that's really good to hear. My influence, I hope."

Indonesia buried his face in Philippines' neck as an answer.

"So needy," Philippines murmured, who had put his phone down to pat his head. "Perhaps you really were lonely?"

"Not as lonely as you used to be, I think." At this, Philippines stilled. Indonesia tightened his hold on the other nation's slim waist even further, almost afraid that he would drift away. "About that question you asked, earlier at the cafe . . . I don't feel burdened by how great my old empires were. I've felt the pressure to make them proud, but I've never felt like it was a burden. Their legacy is my life and my connections to all of you, you know? I've certainly never felt like it made me lonely.

"And then there's you, and I know it's not the same for you, because you can't even remember — and that's fine, Singapore doesn't really remember much either. But Malaysia remembers enough for the both of them, and then there's me, and I remember the most, but then there's you, and you don't have that."

Here, Indonesia exhales a shaky breath. "Spain took you, and America took you, and Japan took you, and that's four centuries of you just being gone from me. We're neighbors yet we're so different, to the point where we don't share the same language, the same religion, the same food, the same history . . . and you have friends all over the world and you seem so happy all the time, but I don't think I've ever realized how lonely you must feel."

All Philippines did was sigh. "I told you not to pity me."

"I'm not pitying you," said Indonesia. "I'm just sorry."

All this time, he had been so in awe of how Philippines found it so easy to adjust to Westerners and Western culture when he himself found it so difficult. But now, with the realization that the same ability to connect with others may have also translated to an inability to connect with him and the rest of ASEAN, that same awe felt so bitter. How many times had Philippines stood awkwardly to the side when he spoke to Malaysia and Brunei in his native language? Kept worryingly quiet when they were wistfully reminiscing their pre-colonial pasts? Tried to tell a joke to lighten up the mood during a meeting, but because of differences in culture and history, it just fell flat?

Indonesia was startled out of his thoughts with a painful pinch of his cheek.

"Of course you're going to be sorry if you make me sound so depressing," Philippines pouted at him, annoyed.

He sputtered, "What? I mean, I just thought—"

"Do you take me for an idiot, Indonesia?" He pinched Indonesia harder, which made him yelp. "Don't you think I'd be well aware by now of where I stand with all of you? That after sixty years together, I would've realized that I wasn't as involved in your history as everyone else is in maritime, or everyone else with each other in the mainland?"

With a huff, Philippines let him go. Indonesia tried to soothe the sting of it by putting his hand on his cheek. He almost didn't hear the other nation murmur, "Do I seem that pitiful to you?"

"Not pitiful at all," Indonesia scrambled to reassure. Philippines leaned back on his chest, still looking a bit miffed. "I don't know. I just had this sudden thought that maybe we're just a bad reminder of how much Spain and America took away from you. Maybe you're actually uncomfortable with us."

Maybe you're actually uncomfortable with me, he thought, though he kept that to himself.

Philippines simply stared up at him, eyes bright, and said, "Well, if you only realized it today, then maybe you should've considered that it isn't actually a problem."

"You could just be very good at acting like nothing's wrong," Indonesia pointed out.

"Or you can think about this: maybe there really is nothing wrong in the first place," Philippines said, a wry smile growing on his face. "I founded the association with you, you know. Maybe the rest of you were there because of old ties or whatever, but I joined precisely because I wanted to build new ones. I don't really care if I feel awkward sometimes. I'd certainly find it boring if all of you were exactly like me anyway."

The other nation was so carefree about it, but Indonesia still felt conflicted. He admitted, "Maybe the problem is just that I feel awkward. I have no idea how to approach you as a nation."

"So don't approach me as a nation. Approach me as a friend," Philippines said, not unkindly. To get the point across, he put his hands over Indonesia's in a show of comfort. "You're allowed to act outside the interests of who you represent, you know. We're people too."

Indonesia kept quiet. There had been times when he privately felt like Philippines was his exact opposite — a lively, energetic person that focused more on his human side rather than the nation side, and someone whose duties were considerably more worldly than his own: having to regularly travel to dozens of countries to check on the millions of Filipino citizens that were working abroad. Meanwhile, as such a large and diverse country, Indonesia tried his best to ensure that every single one of the people that lived within his borders felt heard. It was difficult sometimes, but it always felt meaningful to him — his people were his essence, and he couldn't let politics force him to forsake them again. Acting for his personal interests felt as foreign to him as leaving his house sometimes. Not that he never took time for himself; he tried, but a lot of the time he had to be convinced to do so. Sometimes Singapore would invite him for another tour around his house, or Malaysia would drag him into some new restaurant where they would inevitably fight over the food. But more often than not, it would be Philippines pushing him and the other Southeast Asian nations out of their shells and setting up parties, taking them to his fiestas, and prodding and annoying all of them until they would finally agree to ASEAN hang-outs like the one at Bali. Indonesia could admit harboring a deep suspicion for the other nation before, thinking that he was more in line with American interests rather than his own, but over the decades that suspicion had faded. Despite all his efforts to the contrary, he had grown on him, and now Indonesia couldn't imagine his life without him anymore.

He didn't know much about the Philippines as a nation, not much more than he needed to be aware of for the sake of diplomacy and the association. Yet as the years went by and he got to know more and become friends with Philippines the person, he discovered someone who was equal parts obnoxious and endearing, foolhardy and clever, petty and proud and unbelievably kind. And as he looked at him now, there was something in the curve of his smile and the light in his eyes that told him that things would be alright if he took things a step further — something that told him that the other nation had been anticipating this for a long, long time. Heart over head and heart over country, it emboldened him to take the leap.

"I don't want to approach you as a friend either," Indonesia murmured, and because he couldn't help himself, he leaned down and kissed him.

Philippines sighed happily into his mouth as he kissed back, warm and blooming under his touch. Their kiss was relatively chaste — Indonesia had seen the other nation make out with others for a drunk dare with more passion than this — yet he couldn't complain. It was sweet and soft and lasted only for a moment, and more than anything, it was a promise: that they can take things slow, and that they had all the time in the world to get to know each other better.

Their foreheads touched, quiet and tender, and Philippines laughed softly. "It's so ridiculous," he said, his eyes filled with mirth, "that I've been waiting for so long for you to realize your feelings, and when the time finally comes that you do, you managed to confess without really confessing at all. Only you, Indonesia."

"I'm shy," he said dryly, and the other nation burst into laughter. "If you wanted a real confession, you probably could've done so yourself."

"Ah, but there's no fun in that! I like the thrill of being chased, you know," Philippines preened, wagging his finger in mock admonishment. Then, more shyly, he admitted, "Besides, if I made a move on you before you were ready, you might've just pushed me away or feel forced to return my feelings even if you didn't. If I waited, at least I could be sure you wanted me too."

"So all those jokes you made before were supposed to be you holding back? How subtle," Indonesia teased, his eyes crinkling. He held the other nation closer, smothering him with small kisses all over until what little sadness on his face disappeared and was replaced with giggles and brightness. He turned Philippines' head to face him properly and said, "I'm scared that I won't know how to balance my duties and my personal life as well as you do, and I'm scared that we'll be too dissimilar to really work out. But until the day that our differences force us apart, I'd be happy to spend my time with you."

Philippines pulled away from him slightly, an oddly vulnerable look in his eyes. "You're sure you really want something with me? That this isn't too far out of your comfort zone?"

"Oh, it's very out of my comfort zone," Indonesia said. "But recently, I've been learning that maybe it isn't so bad, you know. As long as I'm with you."

"As long as I'm with you," Philippines repeated, with a growing smile. "I like the sound of that."

They continued talking well past midnight, at some points laughing so hard and arguing so loud that poor Pien was startled awake by all the noise. And as the other nation reached out and pulled him under the covers so they could hold each other until the morning, he found himself reaching back. They kissed until their lips were red and they got so tangled up in each other until they couldn't distinguish between their own bodies anymore; despite how differently the day turned out from how his usual trips to Europe went, Indonesia swore that the unfamiliar city never felt so much like coming home until that night.

-----

"Where the hell is my sweater," Philippines groused.

"You threw it on the floor last night, it should be under your bedside drawer." Indonesia kissed his forehead and, keenly aware that he was not a morning person, gave him a cup of his precious coffee. He could tell his efforts were appreciated when Philippines greedily gulped down the scalding liquid. "Selamat pagi, sayang."

The other nation only pouted at him. "Don't call me sayang."

"After all the stupid things you've called me through the years? I'll call you however I like, thank you very much," he shrugged. "Besides, I'm not the one who has to leave in a few hours."

Philippines groaned as he pulled his clothes over himself. "This is so stupid. We finally get together and now we have to be separated like this? I mean, I'm really glad and I like you a lot and all, but I really wish you had a better sense of timing right now."

"I think you'll live." Indonesia hid his smile behind his cup. "I mean, you were the one that said you don't mind waiting until November to see me again."

"You just keep making fun of me," Philippines whined, cuddling up to him. Pien had even jumped up to nuzzle his neck, evidently just as clingy as his owner. "Where's the romance, Indonesia? The sweet nothings in my ear? The poems and songs you surely must've written while you pined for my presence? Am I to despair forever, having only been loved by a phantom version of yourself that will never return?"

"You've been watching too many telenovelas," Indonesia said, quickly setting both of their cups somewhere else before they had any accidents. At this, the other nation gasped dramatically and collapsed across his lap. Despite himself, he started chuckling at how ridiculous Philippines was being — really, how could he not find him so endearing?

Then Philippines suddenly turned serious. He stared up at him, his gaze piercing. "If you don't want me to go, I can just make up dumb some excuse again, you know. Just say the word."

Indonesia humored him. "And why wouldn't I want you to go?"

"Because I can't be there for you if you feel alone again," he muttered, expression tense and his mouth downturned in an angry frown. "I just feel bad that I'm leaving you so soon."

Yesterday, he would've been right to be worried. Indonesia probably would've found some roundabout way to say that he'd much rather for Philippines to stay just until he could see him off at the airport later that evening, if only to stave off that achingly empty feeling of waiting to go home and resenting time for moving so slowly. Philippines would have laughed and teased and inevitably posted about the day's events on his Instagram, to which Indonesia would look increasingly more exhausted with each new update, but he nevertheless would have allowed Indonesia to get away with delaying his plans to make him more comfortable.

But as it was, now Indonesia only remembered the way the other nation's eyes had twinkled in excitement when he mentioned Munich, so it was little trouble for him to simply smooth back Philippines' bangs and lightly say, "Actually, I was planning of sightseeing on my own today."

"Oh?" Philippines looked surprised — and pleased. "You are?"

Indonesia couldn't stop himself from flushing in embarrassment. Really, it had only been a passing thought he had after finishing his morning prayers, but . . . "All of you are always going on about how I can't enjoy myself abroad, so. I figured it was time I gave it a try."

Though Philippines probably knew he was still rather uncertain about it, he smiled anyway. "Well, as long as bring your phone this time, alright? I'm always just a text away if you need it."

"And here I thought you'd say some cheesy line about me never truly being alone since you'll always in my heart," Indonesia said, and Philippines was startled into laughter as he sat back up. "Don't worry. I've survived a long, long time without you by my side. I can take a little longer."

Philippines pecked him on the cheek, sweet and domestic. "Not too long, I hope. I can't wait to see the look on Thailand's face when we walk into November's meeting hand in hand. Maybe I should make a vlog about everyone else's surprised reactions."

"Whatever you like, sayang." Indonesia smiled as he stood, his hand reaching out. He pulled Philippines into a kiss — a deep one this time, slow and sensuous and full of all the things he felt too strongly to properly express in words — that left them both breathing heavily by the time they pulled away. Feeling uncharacteristically suave, he whispered, "Though I would prefer it if, in the short time that you're still here, you keep all your focus on me."

"Always, mahal." Philippines smiled back, eyes as bright as ever. "Always."

-----

Notes:

Title comes from the lyrics of How Deep Is Your Love, but specifically, it's a reference to the Christian Bautista cover. Bautista is a Filipino singer, and his cover was very popular in Indonesia a few years ago.

There are a lot of things I've had to simplify and outright ignore for the sake of story, most egregious being the fact that Indonesia actually wouldn't be the sole Southeast Asian nation in a G20 meeting. The chair of ASEAN is a permanent guest invitee, and since the current chair is the Sultan of Brunei, Brunei would probably in the meeting as well. Alas, Brunei isn't canon yet as of this writing. Sorry, Brunei!

Mahal and sayang are both terms of endearment in Tagalog and Bahasa Indonesia respectively, but with a catch! Mahal is a word that also exists in Bahasa Indonesia, but the meaning is "expensive" rather than "love" — in Tagalog you can use the word both ways. Sayang is a word that also exists in Tagalog, but the meaning is "What a waste" or "What a pity" rather than "love" — in Bahasa Indonesia, you can use the word both ways. So essentially, you have Philippines and Indonesia trying to be sweet to each other, but the other interprets it as a weird insult instead. It's really funny and really cute.

More detailed notes and references on my previous Tumblr post here!

#indophil #hws philippines #hws indonesia #aph philippines #aph indonesia #hws #mine

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Nine

chapter nine

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: date night!! this is very fluffy, very emotional and extremely horny. edgar allan poe is rolling in his grave at what they did in his enchanted garden

exhibitionism, public sex (no ones there tho), drug mentions at the end (let me know if I should tag anything else!!!!)

word count: 5.4k

from the beginning <3

He spent all of Thursday afternoon with Penelope in Richmond, setting up for his date that night.

Stringing lights on the trees, mowing the grass and trimming the flowers back, the staff ensuring that the museum was in pristine condition for them tonight, it was perfect. The cats were brushed, there were rose petals the fountain and the most beautiful picnic set up in the garden.

Penelope packed their dinner for them, keeping it in the museum fridge for when they finally arrived, it was the only thing Spencer needed to remember.

Y/N: just got home, about to get ready! Can’t wait to see you at 6 ♥︎

Spencer smiled at his phone, about to text her back when Penelope laid a hand on his back, “change into your suit and head back to her, traffic might be bad?”

“Thank you, for everything. You’ve always been my best friend, more of big sister actually,” Spencer pressed his lips together tightly as to not get emotional. “You’re wonderful Penelope, thank you.”

“Awe!” She swooned, wrapping him up in a big hug. “I will always love you, Spencer, you deserve all of this and so, so much more, now go before I cry.”

He laughed, pulling back, hand lingering on her shoulder as he walked into the museum. They let him change in the backroom, it felt incredibly strange to be putting on a suit inside Edgar Allan Poe's house to go pick up his wife. Not too long ago he dreamed about bringing a girlfriend here someday, life was moving too quickly, he needed a breather.

He kept his suit jacket folded and on the passenger seat as he drove home, where he lived with his family. Even just thinking that as he paid attention to the road made him smile. The wind hitting his face, his hair blowing in the breeze, he felt free at last.

He was where he was supposed to be, all roads lead to here.

Travelling up her driveway with a smile on his face as the dust followed him to her doorstep. She was waiting in a red dress on the porch, Amoreena and her nanny eating pizza on the steps as they waited for him.

Stepping out of his car, he straightened his tie and pulled his pants up more, looking at his wife like she was a star plucked from the sky, landing in this Virginia field for him.

She stood then, her satin dress flowing and exposing a leg as she walked down the steps to him, “Is this what you wanted?” She twirled in front of him to show it all off, her hair getting stuck in her lipstick and making her laugh.

“I love you,” is all he can say as she leaning in with a wide grin, surpassing the smile to kiss him gently, using her thumb to get all the lipstick off his bottom lip and chin.

“Love you too, cutie,” she winked, taking his hand and turning back towards Amoreena, “listen to Nanny, remember we love you and we will see you no earlier than 7:30 tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” She saluted, mouth full of pizza.

“And what are the new rules about coming into our bed in the morning?”

“Knock first, wait till you respond, don’t come in unless you say it’s okay,” Amoreena replied, sticking her tongue out at her as she remembered it all.

“Smartie pants,” Y/N smiled at her, “come give us a hug, don’t get pizza on my dress, please.”

Amoreena wiped her sleeve over her mouth before running into her mother's open arms, they shared goodbye kisses before it was Spencer’s turn. She held him so tight it felt wonderful, “goodnight Lovey, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, have the best sleep ever for me?”

“I’ll see you in dreamland,” she replied, kissing his cheek gently before she pulled back.

“Have fun!” Nanny called from the porch as Amoreena skipped back to her.

“We will,” Spencer replied, taking Y/N’s hand and leading her to the passenger side, he opened her door and helped her inside, insuring her dress was inside before closing the door.

Jogging back to his door, he got in and put on his seatbelt. He threw the car in reverse and turned around by the barn, heading down the driveway, not saying a single thing as Y/N stared at him.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” She shook her head, licking her lip before biting it as she huffed.

“We’re going to Richmond, Virginia, to read,” he gave her one hint.

“Hmm,” she smiled, “I’m sure you won't tell me the title, so Mr. I can remember every book ever, what’s a random line in it?”

“You’re smart,” he teased her, “but for the brilliant green of the huge leaves that spread from their summits in long, tremulous lines, dallying with the Zephyrs—”

“We’re going to the Edgar Allan Poe Museum!” She cut him off with a cheer.

He slows down on the barren dirt road, mouth wide open as she got it right, he turns to her as they come to a complete stop, “how the heck did you get that?”

“Yes!” she laughed, tossing her head back as she clapped and kicked her feet a little, so proud of herself, “I’m a librarian, Spencer! Did you think I wouldn’t know Eleonora?”

“That’s the most random sentence in the whole poem?” Spencer was shocked, she recalled it faster than he thought he would be able to if she read a line to him.

“My brother’s first motorcycle was a Zephyr,” she smiled at him, raising her eyebrows. “My brain is kinda like a filing cabinet, if you give me a word I can remember everything I’ve ever heard with that word included.”

He started to drive again, shaking his head as he paid attention to the road but still astounded by how amazing she is. “Amoreena gets that from you then, she could have both our eidetic memories together, that would be very interesting to see.”

“Eidetic memory?” She questioned.

“It’s what most people call photographic memory,” Spencer explained. “You can remember everything you hear which is why you and Amoreena are able to recall songs, books and movie facts so fast, while I can read back to you anything I’ve read without having to see it again, it’s forever in my mind.”

“So we’re both geniuses, cool,” Y/N smiled at him again, “sorry I ruined your surprise.”

“You just know where we’re going,” he reminded her, laying his hand on hers, interlocking their fingers as he drove.

They had an hour alone before the real date started.

So she showed him all of her favourite songs, including some of Amoreena’s playlists so he could get familiar with them before their trip to Rhode Island. Her voice was impeccable, she knew all the words and harmonies, often opting to cove background voices he wouldn’t have even known were there if it wasn’t for her.

She loved music in a way that intrigued him, she enjoyed music with a story. Much like the reason she loved books so much, she enjoyed picturing the happy places in her mind that the songs were able to take her to, they filled her with glee and hope as she sang to her heart's content. Taking short breaks to explain the meanings of songs, to recite the best lyrics and why the songs are close to her heart.

“Do you want to hear the song that reminds me the most of you?” She asked between songs, pausing so that nothing else would start.

“Sure,” he blushed, nervous for what it could be and how she imagined him in her mind, hoping he could live up to it.

“I'm perfectly fine I live on my own, I made up on my mind, I'm better off bein' alone. We met a few weeks ago, now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes,”

She stares at him with a beautiful smile as she waits to see his reaction to the opening, finally singing when the beat drops, dancing softly in her seat as she belted the words out to him.

“So prove to me I'm your American Queen, and you move to me like I'm a Motown beat, and we rule the kingdom inside my room,” She brushed her hand across his jaw, teasing him as the words flow from her lips to his ears, she loves him and he can feel it with every syllable.

“And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for, King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa! And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa,” she sings so softly, with a purpose, turning it down a little so that he can talk to her.

“I love you,” he reminded her, “so much it hurts sometimes.”

“It’s like your heartstrings are tugging on each other, right?” She agreed, “like they want to jump out of our chests and run to each other.”

He nodded with a soft smile, reaching for her hand again holding it as he brought it to his mouth for a kiss, “queen of my heart.”

“Hmmm,” she thought over his words, “I’m pretty content with being princess still, Lady Amoreena is in line for the thrown, it’s part of her namesake after all.”

“Does the kingdom have a name?”

“You know the Elton John song Goodbye Yellow Brick Road?” She waited for his nod, “my grandma called it Ozellous so it’s like wizard of Oz but I added the 'ellous' because people always said they were jealous of our farm.”

He’s trying his best to keep his eyes on the road when all he want’s to do is look at her smile, to see her pupil change as she recalls the loving memory, it’s his favourite thing to do. Better than any movie or play, seeing her face was better than looking at the most expensive art piece. He was so in love with all of her.

“Were you like Amoreena as a kid?”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “bullied hardcore for it too, kids always told me to shut up cause I’d add facts to conversations I wasn’t a part of.”

“I would have loved to listen,” Spencer replied softly, knowing the feeling all too well.

They were only a few minutes away now, turning into the small town and passing quaint little homes and cottages. “Amoreena would love this drive, these are some interesting townspeople homes for her imagination, we should come back sometime this summer.”

His heart was going to actually explode, she was everything he never knew he needed.

“I’d love that,” he added as they pulled into the museum. “I’m a museum member and I’m a patron, so sometimes I donate rare pieces I find, they love me here.”

Her mouth opened to speak, but her eyes got caught on the twinkling lights in the distance, mesmerized by everything. Old cobblestone streets, brick buildings and wooden gates, it was straight out of the 1800s and absolutely fantastical.

“And it’s all ours for the night,” he put the car in park and turned to her, “wait here?”

She nodded, speechless as she continued to look out the window at everything. Spencer got out of the car, opening the back seat to grab and put on his jacket, straighten out his suit before opening her door and extending a hand to help her out.

“Princess,” he extended his arm for her to tuck her own under, he closed her door and escorted her through the gate and towards the garden.

The sun was just starting to set, 7 pm in early June being the most beautiful time of year in rural Virginia, the sky was a perfect purple as he leads her through the stone arches towards the picnic.

Her eyes sparkled with all the lights, wide and pupils blown as she took it all in. It was a fairytale, she was in a princess dress, he was the king of her heart and this was just the beginning of happily ever after.

“Spencer, whatever your middle name is, Reid,” she gasped, swatting his arm lightly with a smile growing on her face.

“It’s Walter,” he smiled right back.

He let go of her hand then and walked over to a table, turning on the record player and dropping the needle in the right spot. He did his research into some Taylor Swift songs, finding one that reminded him the most of Y/N and how much he loved her.

“May I have this dance?” He asks as she notices the all too familiar guitar strumming.

He reaches a hand out for her, pulling her in as she takes it, “I was so so lost before I found you in the park,” he explains the first verse, barely a whisper beside her ear as they start to sway.

There I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity Shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when I saw your face

“All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you,” he whispers once more, feeling the goosebumps bursting on her bare arms.

He spun her around, extending both their arms as she twirled out and then back into his embrace again with a giggle. She swayed back and forth, dancing with him like the night they got married in her field.

Your eyes whispered "have we met?" Across the room your silhouette starts to make it's way to me The playful conversation starts Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy

“And it was enchanting to meet you, All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you,” he sings them this time, spinning her out again as the chorus hits, her eyes widening as she began to smile wider than he’s ever seen before.

They sang the words together as they danced, smiling and laughing as they moved around the cobblestone. Finding a rhythm so perfect, so them, it was silly and not on beat in the slightest, mostly spinning, it was a spinning song if the album cover was any indication.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

“The lingering question kept me up, Two a.m., who do you love? I wonder till I'm wide awake! Now I'm pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door, I'd open up and you would say, hey! It was enchanting to meet you, all I know is I was enchanted to meet you,” Y/N’s voice softer than ever as she sang her anxieties into his ear, remembering the day at the museum where she wondered if she could have him all to herself.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you

Spinning around in circles she leaves his grasp, dress circling in the wind and he watches her. She takes both his hands and spins around with him in a tight circle before pulling back in, their chests bumping as they laughed, happier than he’s ever been in his entire life, and she’s made him pretty happy in the last few weeks.

The girl of his dreams, dancing around him with a smile like she was making her own music video. This was a dream of hers he didn’t know, making it come true as it became a dream of his own.

He places his hands on her cheeks as he stares into her eyes, “this is me praying that this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends. My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you,” he whisper’s the words, barely singing, more talking.

“Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you,” she sings right back to him, staring into his eyes as they stand still in the garden.

She pulls him into a kiss, breathing in deeply through her nose as they hold each other’s cheeks, unable to get closer as they kissed. Pulling away with a loud smooch sound, smiling before taking her hands in his, once more.

Spinning her around again as the beat drops once more, her smile more beautiful than the first time he saw it. He was so madly in love, he firmly believed he was in heaven.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew!!

This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

“Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did,” Taylor Swift's voice cuts into the beautiful moment as her songs change and the mood drastically changes.

Y/N bursts out in laughter, jumping lightly as she enjoyed the song, head-banging along as she danced by herself until Spencer turned the music off once again, “you’re so cute.”

“Thank you,” she bowed, “this is cute!”

“There’s a picnic basket in the fridge inside, and some wine if you think that’s a good idea?” Pointing towards the main house, she followed him towards the door.

“Oh, hello?” Her voice changed as she noticed the two black cats on the window, letting Spencer head inside for the basket as she talked to them.

“That’s Edgar and Pluto, the groundskeeper found them in the shed in 2012,” Spencer explains as he comes back out, basket in hand but she’s too busy with the cats to notice.

Petting both their faces, they stretch into her reach and bask in the feeling of her nails on their skin, Spencer would agree it felt nice. He loved the feeling of her hands in his hair, he must have been a cat in his last life.

“Amoreena wants her own indoor cat,” Y/N smiled wide at him, “she always wanted to call him Hercules like the Elton John song, almost like she knew you were her dad all along.”

She took his free hand then, following him towards the blanket in the grass, “how?”

“There’s a line in the song about Greek gods, but it says Hercules on her side and Diana in her eyes, and she does have your mom's eyes, right down to the colour of her iris,” Y/N looked at him like he was everything to her.

Spencer couldn’t speak, he just set the basket on the ground and ushered her to sit down beside him. She held the skirt of her dress up so she could sit crisscross applesauce on the blanket, draping her dress over her legs so she didn’t show anything off just yet.

“Every time I look at you I understand all her quirks and her facial expressions,” she added like she was trying to make him cry, “I’ve been looking at her for almost 8 years now, wondering who you were and now I know, and you’re so much better than I ever imagined.”

“Would you have looked for me when she turned 18?” Is all he can ask through his sniffles, trying to hold it together for her.

She nodded, “I was going to tell her soon anyway, she asks a lot of questions I’m not sure if you noticed.” Her giggle was priceless, “she had lots of questions when the goats were born this year and that meant her asking more about making human babies and I just said a special man helped me make my dreams come true, and she thought it was Rumpelstiltskin.”

Spencer couldn’t fight the laugh that erupted from him, leaning forward as he chuckled, making her laugh too. “Does she even know the whole story?”

“She’s only seen the 4th Shrek movie with him, she has no idea that he also takes the babies,” Y/N placed her hand on his knee gently, “If I get pregnant again, I’m going to tell her about how it all works as simply as possible, I want her to feel included in this and she’ll be less jealous if she sees this as a learning opportunity.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed, “I still can't believe she almost punched Michael for hugging me.”

“Oh, I can,” Y/N laughed again, “she was being bullied last year by an older kid and I said if someone upsets you or hurts you, sometimes it’s not that bad to hurt them back. Make them know you’re not weak and you care about yourself, and she gave a kid a black eye for tugging on her braid.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling, “that’s my girl.”

Y/N opened the picnic basket then, taking everything out with a smile as Spencer stared at her, thinking a million different thoughts about future kids, how Amoreena would grow up, seeing her as a big sister to hopefully many.

They both leaned forward and kissed softly, smiling as they pulled back, “so you like charcuterie?”

She laughed, “Amoreena called it shark coochie once, I can’t not think of that now.”

“How many kids do you want?”

“Have you ever read cheaper by the dozen?” She teased him. “As many as I can have, I have the funds thanks to my job and the farm and not having to pay a mortgage, I was going to have another baby next year anyway, I had an appointment and everything scheduled, I even tried to get them to contact Amoreena’s father for another sample but they said they couldn’t ask you outright for me.”

“They asked me if I wanted to give another sample when I asked if I could know my kids,” Spencer remembered the words exactly, “she said ‘You have four offspring so far, none of the other samples used have produced a child, the women were all IVF as well so it wasn’t your swimmer's fault if you wanted to donate again.’”

“I don’t want to know the truth, are you okay if we let her decide if she wants to find out at 18?” Y/N asked softly, “I’m content thinking you’re her father, I don’t want to know if it’s some other tall who-lookin’ genius, okay?”

“That’s perfect actually,” Spencer agreed, “and on the kids front, you don’t mind me being in my 70s when they all start going to University?”

“My dad is 68 with no signs of stopping, and he’s still fantastic with his grandkids,” Y/N always had a fact to combat his anxiety. “You have a lot of life left in you, I’ll take good care of you so that they have the best dad ever for as long as possible.”

Spencer was so in love with his family he felt like he was floating, laughing and smiling all meal long as they shared facts back and forth about their lives. Getting to know each other more and more as the seconds passed, he imagined it would be like this forever. She was like a bottomless pit of information, facts, stories and secrets. He loved every single one she shared with him.

She poured herself a second small glass of wine, “you know they say that one glass of wine every once in a while is actually good for the baby?”

“It doesn’t work that fast,” he reminded her, more like he reminded himself. He didn’t want to hope in the chance it didn’t happen right away.

“I had a nightmare last night for the first time in a long time, so I think it worked,” she teased him. “I won't know till June 10th, that's when my next period would be.”

“Nightmare?” It was the only part he picked up on, worried for her and wondering why she didn’t wake him up.

She nodded softly, “I found out I was pregnant and you never came home, and I got lost in the forest looking for you and then I remembered I could wake up.”

He rests his hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb against her bare skin softly, “I’m always coming home to you.”

“I know, when I got pregnant with Amoreena I had bad dreams in the first few weeks too, mostly about giving birth to nothing and being alone all over again, the subconscious and pregnancy hormones are mean as fuck when they hang out,” she laughed away the pain, “I know none of it is real.”

“Good,” he whispered, not knowing what really to say, he wasn’t used to soothing other people yet. Most people didn’t want his facts or concernment when something happened, just a hug normally.

She took a deep breath, pushing everything away, “good news, either my anxiety disorder is back in full swing or something’s working in here,” she laid her hand over her stomach, “either way, I’d like to try again tonight?”

He laughed, “we don’t need to make a baby every time you want to have sex?”

She got onto her knees then, crawling over the blanket and sitting right in Spencer's lap with her hands on both of his cheeks, “I want all your babies.”

He held her waist, pulling her in closer to his chest, “right now?”

She nodded, moving her dress out of the way to undo his belt, “no one is here right? It’s not like anyone would know?”

“Mhmm,” he agreed, kissing her neck as she unzipped his pants, moving his underwear out of the way just enough to free his hardening cock, she stroked it right there in the middle of the garden, staring down between their bodies in awe as he came to life.

Sitting up on her knees more, the slit of her dress made it a lot easier for her to show him her underwear. She was wearing just a thong, perfect for pulling to the side as she lowered herself onto him, ever so slowly.

She fixed her dress around them, completely calm and composed as he was fully inside of her, “you’re okay with this?”

He huffed a laugh out of his nose, dropping his forehead to her shoulder so he couldn’t buck into her and ruin the moment she was making, his hands moving to her hips, guiding her back and off him slightly before back down again, making her gasp.

“I thought you wanted to read?” She teased him as she started to ride him more, moving her hips in a way that took him in and out of her at just the right angle, her hands on his shoulders as she bounced on him lightly, he couldn’t even think straight. “Go on, read to me.”

He took a second to remember the words, mind totally somewhere else and not interested in a book at all when her boobs were right in his face.

“I am come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion,” the first sentence slipped past his lips as she kept going, he took a moment to kiss right under her ear before continuing.

“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence—whether much that is glorious—whether all that is profound—does not spring from disease of thought—from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.”

“Shit,” she moaned, pushing his hand down towards her clit, “you can multitask, smartie pants.”

His thumb was on a mission then, rubbing small circles against her pleasure point, she tossed her head back with her eyes closed as she continued to ride him, “I don’t hear you reading?”

He moaned softly in her ear at the feeling, and the fact she wanted to get off to hearing him recite something from memory, it was more euphoric than he could have ever imagined.

“They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. In their gray visions they obtain glimpses of eternity, and thrill, in ah- awakening, fuck,” he was trying his best to stay as composed as she was when he really just wanted to lay her against the blanket and fuck her into next week.

“to find that they have been upon the verge of the great secret,” Y/N whispered the end of the sentence, grinding down on him harder than before.

“In snatches, they learn something of the wisdom which is of good,” she whispered into his ear, biting his earlobe softly with a moan and he kept rubbing her clit, “you’re so good, Spencer, so so good," she paused to enjoy the moment before whispering in his ear once more, "And more of the mere knowledge which is of evil. They penetrate, however, rudderless or compass-less into the vast ocean of the "light ineffable," and again, like the adventures of the Nubian geographer, "agressi sunt mare tenebrarum, quid in eo esset exploraturi.”

Her words softer than ever and they were never going to get to the end of this poem, he'd never know how the rest of the words sound on her tongue, she pulled him into a kiss then, moaning into his mouth as they ground against each other, finding a perfect rhythm to bring them to the end.

“There, yes, fuck,” she whispered against his lips, pushing against him as she arched her back slightly, slipping away from his mouth as she did so.

He slammed into her then as he chased her lips, making her whimper one last time before she was shaking in his lap, her legs quivering as she finished on him, sending him over the edge and stilling as he came with a shudder. He held her so close, both of them breathing into each other's mouths as they came down, kissing and smiling as they stayed connected.

“We’ll name her Eleonora,” Y/N teased, pulling off him and laying back against the blanket.

He made sure her underwear was back in the right spot before covering her with her dress again and sliding himself back into his underwear.

“Amoreena and Eleonora have a good ring to it, we just need 10 more names,” he teased right back.

“Hopefully we have a little boy one day too,” she smiled as she tugged him down beside her, cuddling into her side as they stared up at the newly dark blue sky and the array of stars that decided to join them this evening.

“Even if it’s just Amoreena, I’ve never been happier in my whole life than when I’m with you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She asked, purely to keep hearing his voice.

“Making me want to get up in the morning again, giving me a reason not to buy drugs for something euphoric to happen to me, showing me real love and proof that happiness is possible if you just chose to be happy,” he gave example after example.

“I thought I learned everything the world had to offer, but you’ve been showing me new little life hacks that make the world so much better, I see a future of bright colours and happiness and laughter for the first time ever, so thank you.”

She held him closer, “it’s been a pleasure falling in love with you, together, you deserve to love yourself. You’re so wonderful Spencer, it breaks my heart to know that anyone has ever made you feel the opposite.”

He couldn’t speak anymore, turning to kiss her neck and cheek so he had something to do that wasn’t crying. He loved her so incredibly deeply that he felt like he was an anchor, dropping to the bottom of her deepest ocean, without a single plan to leave.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Part 15

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warnings: mild violence

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine – his pick during the social season – the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. After a drunken night, he finds himself with more than he bargained for.

Thanks @burnsoslow​ for the beta read.

---------------

Supposedly, the more a person suffered in the name of love, the more it showed they really cared. 

At least, that's what Riley thought. 

After nightfall of this particular evening -- when she least expected it -- she never realized how much truth that belief held. 

Or how much it would hurt to sacrifice the one person who made her believe she was worthy of love and saw who she really was on the inside.

Her dainty arm -- a delicate bronze in color, sleek, with a glittering red strap across one shoulder -- linked through the arm of the man she had grown to love more than life itself as they entered the palace ballroom. Working tirelessly over the last week to ensure everything went off without a hitch had taken its toll on her. All she could think about, as she shook hands and charmed dignitaries with a sparkle in those twinkling brown eyes, was how much sleep she planned to make up for after the ball ended.

This ball was to introduce the King and his new bride to the Cordonian court for the first time. A show of solidarity and, hopefully, strength. A way to establish that what happened in a tiny chapel 10,000 miles away weeks ago between two strangers wasn't a careless mistake, and that she could handle the duties bestowed on her as a common American woman. 

Or at least pretend she could for now.

However, for the King and the "Jewel of His Heart" whom he escorted through the curious crowd of pretentious naysayers in extravagant gowns and tuxes, with their fake smiles and tedious posturing ...

It was nothing less than fate. 

Riley was the key that unlocked that safe space deep inside Liam's heart that had been sheltered for so long, waiting for the perfect person to come along and open it. This was the place where he kept his most sacred feelings: a genuine love, never-ending laughter, joy, romance, ecstasy, and every dream he ever held for the future -- one he presumed would never exist in any form he longed for. 

But she didn't just unlock it. Riley shattered it wide open, where everything came flooding out at once and consumed him like a raging wildfire. 

And it was the most remarkable, intoxicating experience of his life. 

Liam showed her off all evening as they mingled during their rounds, danced, and conversed with the variance of nobility. She was the sexiest woman in that room, and he'd dare say the looks of envy shot in his direction from high-class men as he proudly cavorted her around didn't bother him in the least. Not that that was her only quality -- far from it. There were so many things about Riley that were special. But he couldn't help feeling a sense of pride that she was all his.

And without question, he was all hers.

Seated at the head table, Riley swallowed a morsel of the veal medallion she wanted to be served for this occasion. When given a choice between fish and lamb, the fish never stood a chance. The memory of that smelly, god-awful lunch with Regina three weeks ago was not something her palate had forgiven her for yet. As wonderful and savory as this extravagant meal, covered in a light brown mushroom sauce and served with a side of broccoli rabe, was, it couldn't hold a candle to what she craved the most: a slice of white pizza from Carmine's back in Brooklyn.

Or a slab or two of the New Yorker.

With maybe some cheesecake.

Covered in chocolate.

And a sausage rice ball. A Frito pie smothered with sour cream. Definitely a rainbow bagel from The Bagel Store. Barbecue ribs and beans from the mom-and-pop diner hidden just off the strip in Vegas. 

Of course, her grandma’s country fried steak with white gravy sounded delicious too.

For sure, a fried Twinkie like the one she ate at the New York State Fair in 2013. 

"You've outdone yourself, sweetheart," Liam marveled while wiping at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "The meal was delicious, and our guests appear to be enjoying themselves." The others seated at the table looked up, adding their compliments.

Still dreaming about a fat slice of New York-style pizza, Riley smiled graciously back at him, until she noticed the server refilling Liam’s glass with merlot, causing her to do a double-take. 

Hot tears pooled in her eyes, and a heavy feeling of sadness swelled in her chest as she panicked. "I asked for the Pinot Noir. Not the merlot,” she rasped meekly. “You don't like merlot, Liam. And the Pinot Noir was from the 'C' place where Duke Hakim lives. He'll be so disappointed and think I'm slighting his duchy. They’ll all hate me forever and ... wait a minute." She trailed off as a realization hit her, and Riley quickly glanced down at her plate before scanning each of the dishes from those seated around her.

The anxiety intensified; she could no longer suppress the heartbroken sob that wailed out of her. "Where are all the potatoes? We were supposed to have the potatoes, Liam. They didn’t serve the potatoes. Now the whole night is completely ruined, and it’s all my fault. I'm such a failure as a queen, and you should just send me to the dungeon now and throw away the key. I apologize to all of you for my incompetence and the lack of potatoes with your meal." Riley’s red-hot face, full of tears, plunged into the palms of her hands, then quickly sprung back up as Liam hesitantly tried to place a hand on her shoulder. A strong urge to use the restroom ended her crying spell as if it never happened. “Oh, oh. I gotta pee so bad. I’ll be right back.” She gave a warm smile and excused herself as she pushed her chair back and scurried merrily toward the nearest restroom.

Liam, Regina, Leo, Maxwell, and Olivia watched with confusion as she happily took off, not knowing what to say or what to make of the sudden shift in her moods.

“What the hell was that?” Olivia scowled, her eyes fixed on Liam.

“Is she all right, dear?” a concerned Regina asked.

Liam scratched the back of his head, nearly at a loss for words. “I ... I don’t know. I’ve never seen her that upset … especially over potatoes.” He paused in thought. “She was a little on edge this morning. Still, she’s been working a lot on the preparations and everything else going on. It must have gotten to her.”

Maxwell shrugged. “Maybe she just finally snapped.” 

Leo shook his head, swallowing a forkful of beef. “Or maybe she has the premenstrual syndrome.”

“Leo!” The group admonished.

“What?” Leo bit back, taking in each of their disappointed glares. “Don’t act like it’s not true. Trust me, when I have cramps and bloating, I can go from a happy little Leo to a Bertrand, just like that.” He snapped his fingers, following it up with a frown. “It ain’t pretty, you all.”

Maxwell looked across the table at Liam and agreed, “He has a point.”

Wanting to shed his skin and slither away, Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we not discuss something so personal and private, especially while several hundred people are dining around us?”

“I’m just saying, little brother, that you need to be understanding and gentle during this special time of your wife’s 'lady business.' You should speak softly and slowly to her because Shark Week messes with a girl's mind, man. Their brains short-circuit, and there’s nothing left up there but a couple of crickets and man-eating rattlesnakes. One second, you think she’s fine, but if you’re not careful, in the next second, you’ll find yourself with two venomous fangs rattling from your nut sack, dude. She will tear you apart and spit you out like a rabid dog. You can make it through these next few days, but only if you take my advice.”

“That is the single dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Olivia spat, boring her eyes into him. “And you’ve said a lot.” She turned to Liam, whose face was slightly pale and void of expression. “Don’t listen to his sexist drivel. Why you haven’t declared him insane yet is beyond me. You should have sent him away with that filthy hairball to Valtoria you had caged earlier.”

“IT WAS MONGO!” Leo erupted, causing the dishes on the table to clatter as he jumped to his feet and hovered over the redhead. Every head in the ballroom whipped around to see what was happening, and a deafening silence filled throughout. Even the orchestra stopped playing their classical tune.

A wide-eyed Regina smiled sheepishly as she glanced out at the quiet audience who were waiting to see what all the fuss was about. She thought fast before calling out, “We were just playing a little game of … 'It was Mongo.'” The former queen snatched Maxwell’s Sunset Rum punch from his hand, thrusting the drink up at her stepson, towering beside her, and instructed in a grandmotherly tone, “Be a good lad, Leo. You lost this round. It's time to chug-a-lug, my boy.” With his face burning, Liam slid down in his seat.

“Ooooo, I wanna go next.” Maxwell bounced excitedly while the guests resumed the festivities. "How do we play?"

“I think I want to go, too,” Liam replied, straightening back up before hurling his napkin on the table. “I’m going to go find Riley.”

-----------------

Riley exited the ladies' room, clutch in hand and a fresh dab of clear gloss gleaming on her pink lips. She stopped walking just as the door closed behind her and smiled with a look of surprise at seeing Liam leaning against the opposite wall. "What are you doing out here?"

He pushed himself off the wall, closing the distance between them and meeting her in the middle of the empty corridor. They wrapped their arms around each other, indulging in the warmth of their lovers' embrace. "Would you believe me if I told you I just missed you?" he answered, placing a tender kiss on her lips that skimmed lower to her jawline. 

"I missed you, too," she moaned with each gentle pressure of his seductive lips, suckling and nibbling along the spot that trailed behind her ear that he knew drove her crazy. "But something tells me that's not the only reason you left the ballroom."

Their gazes met simultaneously. "Leo."

Riley chuckled softly. "Do I even want to know?"

Liam sighed, smoothing back a loose hair behind her ear. "You know my brother and his wonderful words of wisdom." There was no way in hell he would tell her what they really discussed after she left; he could only imagine her embarrassment. "Everyone was just a little worried about you, that's all."

"I didn't mean to scare everyone. I just wanted tonight to be perfect. Instead, so many things went wrong. I can only assume what the court thinks about me now." She lowered her gaze to the red carpeting where they stood. "I let you down."

"I don't want to ever hear you say that again. Riley, sweetheart, you can never let me down. Do you understand that?" Liam lifted her chin; her tentative eyes stared back at him for a moment before nodding. "Good. And just so you know, our guest are used to bombings, stabbings, kidnappings, shootings, and terror plots at most of my palace events --"

"Wait. What?"

" -- I assure you, just the fact alone, that none of that took place tonight, and they're all going to leave here soon -- alive -- will be huge for them. Not having potatoes with the meal or the right wine was the least of their worries. They will consider this night a success. And a testament to their new queen. You should, too. I'm so very proud of you."

"I have so many questions about everything you just said."

Liam smiled, caressing Riley's petal-soft cheeks and lowering his head to kiss her again. "All in due time, my love.”

Riley let out a deep, drawn-out yawn she lightly covered with her palm before stretching and rolling her neck. A couple of weeks' worth of planning and endless decisions had left heavy tension in her shoulders and overwhelming exhaustion like nothing she'd felt before. None of it went unnoticed by Liam, who placed his hands on her shoulders and gingerly kneaded the taut muscles. 

"What do you say about heading back to our quarters, taking off all of your clothes, and I'll be up soon to massage this gorgeous body from head to toe? And hopefully, when I'm through, you'll massage parts of me, too … with any part of your body that you'd like." His lips curved into an inviting smile.

"Mmm, that's tempting," she purred, rubbing her hands over his ample chest. "But I can't just leave. It's the Queen's Ball. Without me, it's just ... The Ball." She chuckled, despite herself.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little panties over the ball. Just go upstairs and take them off. I’ll handle everything down here. Then … “ He squatted down to her eye level. “ … I’ll handle you.”

Her heart fluttered every time Liam spoke to her that way. The way he desired only her. She bit the corner of her lip teasingly. “I love you so much.”

Liam smiled. “You better. You’ve got one hell of a husband. I’d even venture to say you’re the luckiest woman on the whole damn planet right now.” Before Riley could respond to his jest, he put both of his hands on her cheeks to hold her head still and began placing playful, wet smooches all over her face, causing her to laugh riotously. After a few seconds of her squirming around and cackling at his antics, he paused to look at her. “You know I love you, too. Now go on up. I’ll be right behind you soon.” 

With a pat to her backside, they went their separate ways.

---------

Liam returned to the ballroom, having offered to finish what little time was left without her. He would offer his apologies for her absence, but in reality, the King couldn’t have cared less what anyone there thought. Since his bachelor party weeks ago, he had grown from a man who had no choices to one who made his own. His marriage and relationship with Riley came first. Her wellbeing was the main priority -- to hell with anyone who had a problem with that.

As Riley placed a hand on the elegant wooden handrail of the grand staircase and took the first step up, her thoughts meandered to where she had been in her life one month ago and how vastly it had changed in such a short time. For the first time in years, she was happy, and it felt so good to be in that place where she could finally let go of the past and move on. Liam was a game-changer, and she was thoroughly convinced he was the only person on the planet who could have gotten her out of her own head and to this level of blissful existence.

Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, she reached into her clutch to pull out the key card to her quarters, exhaustion slowing her strides. Shuffling past a row of closed office doors and framed artwork, she made her way to the residential wing. 

The squeak of a door behind her and the click of heels drew her attention, causing her to stop and turn to see who was there. 

The color drained from her face as Madeleine casually stepped out, her hands behind her back and a devious, unsettling grin cemented on her face. 

It wasn't the fear that made Riley's heart pound with a sickening thud, but more shock than anything. No one had seen or spoken to the Countess since the confrontation in Las Vegas when she showed up unexpectedly after finding out Liam had married Riley the night prior. 

Now, suddenly, there she was, as if out of nowhere, a gleam in her eye, looking all too pleased to have this run-in with Riley.

"A little dramatic, don't you think?" Riley scoffed, taking one step back the closer Madeleine approached. "What are you even doing here?"

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're worried about," she answered contemptuously. Her green eyes drifted to one of the cameras mantled at each end of the hallway. Riley placed a shaky hand over her stomach, letting out a low, relieved breath, hoping that was the truth. "Not physically, anyway."

"Well, that sounds promising," Riley replied sardonically. "Now, if you don't mind ..." She turned away, wanting nothing more than to escape this conversation and make it back to her quarters. 

Madeleine reached out and grabbed the Queen by her elbow, pulling her back and harshly twisting her around so they were now face-to-face. "You're not going anywhere until I'm through with you," she hissed with an icy glare. "I told you I would make you regret what you've done."

Riley jerked her arm, trying to free herself. "Let go of my arm, Madeleine!" 

"Not until you hear what I have to say."

"I'm not interested in anything you have to say! Now LET ME GO!" Riley hoped someone heard her yell or at least witnessed what was happening on the camera. Where the hell is security?

While continuing to struggle to free herself, she reached up with her free hand in an attempt to pry off Madeleine's bony fingers that were squeezing tight grooves around her elbow, her manicured nails digging deeper into Riley's skin. "You're hurting me. I said to let me go."

"Very well, then." The woman, who had twice lost her chance at the crown, released her firm grasp, knowing that the momentum would cause Riley to stumble back as soon as she let go. 

Just as predicted, Riley planted a foot behind her for leverage before drawing her arm back as hard as she could, one last time. Her eyes grew wide, and she let out a sharp gasp that sounded well down the corridor. Riley sailed backward, tripping over herself and toppling to the ground. She finally landed with a hard blow on her backside, the rear of her head just inches from slamming to the floor.

A shockwave of pain coursed up Riley's spine from hitting so abruptly. Before she had a chance to respond or process what happened, Madeleine crouched down beside her, holding a DVD up and gaining Riley's attention. 

The pain had morphed into a throbbing ache that was soon forgotten as the Queen stared quizzically at the object displayed in front of her like a grand prize. 

"What is that?" her voice trembled.

"It's my ace in the hole," Madeleine stated, then wagged a finger. "Someone used to be a very naughty girl." 

Furrowing her brows, Riley responded. "I don't know what you mean."

"You know precisely what I mean, but just in case, please allow me to refresh your memory," Madeleine smirked before rising to her feet and prancing around as if she were having the time of her life. "I did a little digging after my brief visit to Las Vegas and came across a man who knew you very, very well at one time. I made some calls. We exchanged e-mails, a transfer of money or two. And he was all too eager to accept my offer of payment for any dirt he could give me on you."

There was no point in asking "who" -- she already knew; the thought made her nauseous. Riley closed her eyes and muttered. "Tyler?"

"Yes," Madeleine beamed, " Your ex-husband. He had a lot to say about you."

"I'm sure he did. Does it even matter to you that he's a liar and a cheat -- not to mention greedy? He would make up anything if he thought he could profit off of it."

"Oh, it matters. Personally, I don't believe a damn thing he had to say. Honestly, Riley ... even someone like you could have done better than that slime."

Riley cringed in pain as she pushed herself off the floor and turned to her oppressor. "Just get to the point, Madeleine. Clearly, he gave you something you thought was valuable enough to use against me, so just spit it already."

Madeleine smiled, "How very astute of you. You're correct. He did." She held up the disc as Riley regarded it suspiciously. "On this disk are several hours of the two of you ... together. Very graphic, if I do say so myself." Riley's jaw dropped upon hearing those words as Madeleine continued, "Now don't worry. I only watched it long enough to make sure the video was legit --"

"Give me that!" Riley reached out to snatch the DVD, but Madeleine pulled it away just out of her grasp. A burning sensation filled inside her chest and spread across her face. "You're lying. I never made videos like that."

"Oh, I think you did," the blonde countered with a mirthful tone. "You just didn't know about it. Your ex admitted as much to me ... an asshole move, for sure. But nonetheless, I purchased the copy from him for a hefty sum. And ... well ... here we are now. You're more than welcome to take this disc and see for yourself; I have it downloaded as a backup, knowing you'd want proof."

At that moment, all Riley wanted was for Liam to walk down that corridor where she now stood, pick her up in his arms, whisk her away to safety, and tell her it was all a bad dream. Not that she did anything wrong -- she was married at one time to the man, presumably on the video, and would have been a consenting adult. 

No, it was the fact that Tyler Brooks had taken intimate videos with her during their marriage, without her knowledge. Now Madeleine had possession of them.

God only knew what she planned to do with them, but Riley had a pretty good idea. "What do you want?" she whispered in defeat, afraid to hear the answer.

Madeleine grinned from ear-to-ear. "For you to leave Cordonia tonight and never return, or I release everything to the press."

Riley shook her head. "No. As much as I don't want anyone to see that video, I did nothing wrong, and I won't be blackmailed or intimidated by you so that you can get your grubby little paws on the crown."

"Is that so?" It wasn't a question so much as a remark meant to convey who was in control. 

Maintaining her position, Riley raised a brow, refusing to give in.

Madeleine was far from giving up, though; she had manipulation in her blood. "Very well, then. I'll release the video in the morning. It should be interesting to see how the world reacts to yet another scandal by this monarchy. Their Queen plastered all over the internet again, except this time, uploaded on every porn site on the web. 

"The news will run the story with your blurred-out silhouette in the background. Your father will see it, and his business will become a target.: Your friends. Family. Students. They'll all be inundated with your sexual proclivities. But the worst part will be the tribunal. The council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of queen on some American nobody, but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame that he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Do you genuinely believe you're worth all the trouble it will cause him?"

Riley froze. She knew Madeleine was taunting her with the people she cared about the most. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass each of them. But to possibly cause Liam to lose his legacy, his birthright, and the rulership of a country he loved so much? It was something she couldn't shake. 

Staring blankly, twisting the bands of gold that belonged to Liam's mother, she couldn't get the question Madeleine just asked out of her mind: Did Riley believe she was worth the trouble it would cost him? 

Nothing was damning on that video, aside from the fact that she never knew it existed. But she already had so much to prove; another video in the press' hand would tarnish Liam. Maybe the Countess of Fydelia was right: He would lose it all.

"Time is ticking," Madeleine reminded Riley as she tapped her watch. "What's it going to be?"

----------

@burnsoslow​ @dcbbw​ @ao719​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @jessiembruno​ @texaskitten30​ @janezillow​ @merridithsmiscellany-blog​ @mskaneko @callmeellabella​ @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @bebepac​ @kingliam2019​ @lovablegranny​ @cordoniaqueensworld​ @amandablink​ @liamxs-world​ @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography​ @txemrn​ @thecordoniandiaries @alyssalauren​ @cordonianroyalty @monsoonbloom12 @mom2000aggie​ @theroyalheirshadowhunter​ @princessleac1​ @kimmiedoo5​ @graceful-leah​ @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin​ @gkittylove99​ @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @neotericthemis​ @pink-diamond13​ @walker7519 @natureblooms24​ @yourmajesty09​ @gabesmommie1130​ @sweatyrysconnoisour @kat-tia801​ @debmcg1106

Liam x MC: Cordonia-gothqueen

FRI Series Tags:   @narrytheworld​​  @queenwalton​  @cordonianprincess​        @zaffrenotes​ @zilch3​  @drrookie​ @sfb123​​

#liam x mc #liam x riley #prince liam #king liam #the royal romance #trr #choices liam x mc #Fools Rush In #bbrandy2002

[fizzychocolatemilk]

La Belleza que Atrae... (The Beauty that Attracts...) (Seroroki Tropetember Drabble)

Seroroki tropetember drabble is here finally! This took more research than my usual fics because I wanted to make sure my Spanish was as correct and natural as possible. But here’s my drabble for day 14:  Monstrous (Human/Monster Romance) / Cultural Differences / Language Barrier. AO3 link here.

Shouto met Hanta on an unassuming day in his first week of being stationed at the Tucson, AZ location of Todoroki Corp. Shouto had honestly just been happy to get away from his father for a while, but to do that and meet the most interesting person he’d ever met?! It was a gift that Shouto wasn’t going to take for granted.

Before he actually met Hanta, he had bumped into him a few times first. On his second day there, he had been walking out of a coffee shop that he had never tried before when a man on a bike veered around him shouting, “Cuidado, Gringo!” Shouto stared after the harried man for a moment, thinking about the sleekness of the man’s dark hair and his tan skin, before continuing with his day.

In theory, Shouto knew that the man had been speaking Spanish—that didn’t mean he knew what the man said. Shouto’s father had been more interested in languages that would help Shouto with their international business; Japanese, Mandarin, and English were the languages that his father considered important. But now Shouto was starting to think about learning Spanish.

Shouto saw the same man when he was waiting to pick up a pizza the next afternoon. That time the man was on the phone, talking and laughing with whoever was on the other end of the line. “Jaja, sí! Estoy esperando ahora. Estaré allí pronto. Sí, sí...Adiós.”

The man put his phone back in his pants pocket, then looked up and accidentally locked eyes with Shouto. Shouto maintained his usual blank stare while giving a small placetory smile even though he was beginning to become enamored with the spanish-speaking man, but the other man smiled at Shouto—before furrowing his brows as their staring contest continued past the point of socially acceptable. Shouto was about to work up the courage to go and talk with the man when the employee at the counter called for “Sero!”

Shouto watched as the man went up to the counter and picked up and paid for around 5 boxes of pizza. It felt like he was in a trance as he watched the man’s biceps, exposed by his tropical-patterned, orange muscle tank, flex as he carried the pizzas out the door. He needed to talk to that man—language barrier be damned.

.

.

.

Shouto wasn’t thinking about the handsome man when he saved the little girl.

He had seen her wander into the street and moved without thinking. He heard someone shout, “Mija!” in the background as he tackled the white-blonde girl away from the traffic that was speeding towards her, then the world blurred out and went black.

.

.

.

“Señor...Señor Gringo...SEÑOR!”

Shouto groaned as he sat up...only to headbut the man hovering over him.

“Ay, cabrón!” The man shouted and clutched his head.

Shouto flushed slightly at being so close to the man, but managed to mumble out a semi-audible, if not slightly monotone, apology. The man stared at him, so Shouto asked, “Ummm...do you speak English? If so, I’d like your number. I’ve seen you around a few times and you seem very...interesting.”

The man wrinkled his nose at Shouto before responding, “Ee-m not...bery good ah-t inglés. Yo comprendo inglés aunque. Quieres mi teléfono...You...waant my...noombear?”

Shouto’s eyes sparkled when the man spoke to him (even though his expression remained mostly deadpan), and he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, you are very beautiful...and I said this but I’ve seen you around several times and you just intrigued me every time I saw you for some reason. I’d like a chance to get to know you better.”

The man gave a soft smile and opened his mouth to respond before the little girl gave a slight tug to his sleeve, “Tío Hanta...tú y este hombre van a ser papá y papi?”

Shouto didn’t know what the girl said, but the man, Hanta, blushed hard and embarrassedly hissed, “Eri-chan, no!” Hanta hugged the girl to his side before turning back to Shouto, “Ehhhhh...tienes un bolígrafo...Doo you hahve ah pe-en?” Shouto reached into his bag and handed the man a pen. “Gracias,” the man nodded before pulling up Shouto’s arm and writing a series of digits on his inner forearm.

Shouto stared at the numbers for a moment before looking up at Hanta. The man grinned and pulled up his hand and used his thumb and pinky finger to make the “call me” sign as he walked away with the girl. Shouto needed to start learning Spanish.

That’s it! Thank you so much for reading and being patient for this one. Translations are under the cut.

Translations

Cuidado, Gringo! ~ Move it, Gringo! / Watch it, Gringo! (Gringo is a derogative term in the US for a white person and/or a white American—Sero didn't know that Todoroki is Asian...so he uses this term)

Jaja, sí! Estoy esperando ahora. Estaré allí pronto. Sí, sí...Adiós. ~ Haha, yeah! I'm waiting now. I'll be there soon. Yeah, yeah...bye.

Mija ~ darling / sweetheart (a common pet name, from what I see it's usually used by adults on children, but I'm pretty sure it can also be used for significant others...it can also be used as "mijo" if talking to a male)

Señor...Señor Gringo...SEÑOR! ~ Señor is sir or mister

Ay, cabrón! ~ Oh shit! / Oh fuck!

Ee-m not...bery good ah-t inglés. Yo comprendo inglés aunque. Quieres mi teléfono...You...waant my...noombear? ~ I'm not...very good at English. I understand English though. You want my number...You...want my...number? ("teléfono" literally translates to "telephone" or "phone"...but it is also slang for "phone number"...like how you say "number" instead of "phone number" in English)

Tío Hanta...tú y este hombre van a ser papá y papi? ~ Uncle Hanta...are you and this man going to be like papa and daddy?

Ehhhhh...tienes un bolígrafo...Doo you hahve ah pe-en? ~ Uhhhhh...do you have a pen...do you have a pen? (I know Sero repeats phrases, but usually when I'm speaking Spanish it helps me to say the phrase a couple of times or to say the phrase in English before I say it in Spanish...so I tried to incorporate that into the writing)

Gracias ~ Thanks / Thank you

#fizzy's fics #tropetember #language barrier #spanish #use of spanish slang and swears #eri is bakudeku's kid #that isn't mentioned in the fic #but that's who she means when she says papa y papi #seroroki #todosero #implied bakudeku #eri #sero hanta #todoroki shouto

[anjanettexcordonia]

Secrets

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir A/U

Rating/Triggers: Mature (18+); domestic violence

Pairings: Drake x MC, Liam x MC (kinda) 

Word count: 1254 (+/-)

A/N: Please excuse any grammatical errors. 

A/N: I have been on a hiatus due to personal circumstances (Dumpster Fire 2021 comin at ya) but this is hopefully my comeback! Thanks for sticking with me! 

Disclaimer: Some characters & some scenes belong to Pixelberry. I have been working on this on and off since November 2020. Hope ya enjoy. 

Tags: If you would like to be added or removed please let me know. 

HUGE SHOUT OUT TO @txemrn (without her I would have never finished) & @jessiembruno for pre-reading (even if you don’t remember) 

Chapter 1

Liam sat alone at a small circular table with high backed cushioned stools in a pizzeria in New York City. He couldn’t ever visit New York without having an authentic slice of New York style pizza. He sat staring out the large picture window at the snow falling steadily. A large greasy slice of in front of him. He was consumed in his own feelings of loneliness and isolation when the silhouette of a figure caught his attention standing on the sidewalk. He squinted his eyes to try to get a better view through the falling snow. Liam watched as a petite raven haired woman with a white pea coat wrapped tightly around her attempted to hail a cab in front of the shop. A cab flew by her and spewed snow at her causing her to slip on the icy sidewalk beneath her. Liam jumped from his table and ran out the front door of the restaurant to help her. 

“Miss, are you okay?” Liam asked as he held out his hand to the beautiful dark haired woman. 

“Oh... uh... I’m fine. Thank you, uh, thank you for your help sir.” 

The woman replied brushing her long blue black tendrils from her face. She attempted to pull herself from the ground unsuccessfully without taking his hand. Liam hoisted her up by her elbow anyway. 

“I’m Liam.” His bright blue eyes shown through the moonlight drawing Alexa into them.

Alexa took a step back avoiding eye contact. “Liam, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Liam nodded his head with a warm smile. A megawatt smile that would make any girl's heart skip a beat. Alexa’s breath hitched at the crooked smile he gave her. 

“Goodbye then.” Alexa turned and walked away in the opposite direction. 

Liam was intrigued by the woman. He felt a strange tingle down his spine when his eyes met hers. Those eyes. He had never seen anything like them. One eye a golden honey, the other ice blue with flecks of grey. He hoped to see her again; but, in this bustling city with the population of almost half of his small Mediterranean country, what were the chances of that? 

 Liam stood in silence, staring up at the Statue of Liberty. She was a beacon of freedom he could never fully grasp. At home, he was Heir Apparent to the throne of an absolute monarchy; his citizens kissed his feet in belief his bloodline was touched by God, like most kings of the past.  Unlike in his country, the United States of America, where every citizen was free to choose. Free to elect their leaders. Free to not feel the pressures of leading a country from birth. He hoped to be a good king one day. He hoped to establish a balance of power within his country without undermining its traditions. He hoped to lead his country to a constitutional monarchy, not absolute. He envied this country that was built on freedom. Who would he have been born here? Who would he be without the crown? He thought back to his childhood friend, the only American he really knew. He had met American diplomats, sure, but never knew much about them. Those mismatched eyes flash in his mind. The shiny dark curls that framed those beautiful eyes hidden deep in his mind. 

“Sir?” 

A voice startled Liam breaking his thoughts and snapping him back to reality. 

“Bastien?” 

Liam’s head of security had slinked from the shadows. 

“We found him, sir. I’ve contacted his secretary. Dinner is scheduled for tomorrow night.” The guard spoke in a stern yet soft voice. 

“Thank you, Bastien.” Liam’s thoughts returned to his former friend. 

Drake Walker was his best friend. They grew up together until Drake went off to college in America. Drake's mother was an American and his father was Cordonian. His father was a top military general in the King’s Guard. Jackson Walker, Drake’s father, was killed in the line of duty and his mother and sister went back to America after his tragic loss. They had promised to stay in touch after Drake left. Time ticked by and communication had dwindled. It had been five years since they had last spoken. Last Liam knew, Drake was still in New York. He had become a big shot real estate developer living on the Upper East Side. Bastien had tried to contact Drake after an assassination attempt on Liam’s life, but Drake never returned the call. 

Across town, Alexa was feeling anxious after her encounter with the kind stranger, Liam. If she had been seen conversing with a handsome man or any man for that matter her husband would not be happy, especially as handsome as he was. His smile and bright eyes flashed through her mind. She was rushing to get home before her husband. He wouldn’t be happy if she were late. Punctuality was very important to him, but only when it came to her. 

Alexa made it home just in the nick of time. She let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t home yet. She was hoping he would be late. Alexa winced, peeling her coat from her limbs. She hung her coat on the coat rack. She threw her snow covered boots in the hall closet. She felt a stinging pain in her back when she bent down. She lifted her shirt in the hallway mirror and saw a bright purple bruise from her fall forming. Fuck, he will have questions if he sees this.. 

“Alexa, where are you?” 

She heard the front door open and keys being tossed furiously on the entry table. 

“Hello, dear,” Alexa rounded the hallway to the living room. “Um, how--how was your day?” she stutters. 

“It was fine,” he answered coldly, his gaze glued to his phone. “I received a strange phone call on my way home.” 

“Oh?” Alexa felt her heart begin to race. Surely no one saw me. “From who?”

He scoffs. “An old friend from childhood would like to have dinner tomorrow night. 6pm sharp. Nobu.” He kicks off his shoes as he feverishly texts on his cell. “You will meet me there. Do not dress too provocatively. And try  not to embarrass me this time.” She could sense the aggravation in her husband’s voice. “I’m going to change and go out. Don’t wait up.” 

Alexa stared at her feet as she nodded her head complacently.

The next evening, Alexa stared at herself in the mirror in a black chiffon dress with plunging neckline and strappy Christian Louboutins. Her long dark hair flowed in loose curls down her back. She was already dreading this dinner. She knew her husband would find something she did to humiliate him;she would regret it later. She arrived promptly at the upscale restaurant. Her husband was waiting with the maitre’d for her. He forced a smile. 

“Alexa,” he placed his hand on her lower back. Her skin crawled at the feel of his hand “Do not embarrass me,” he whispered as he guided her to the private table. 

“Drake,” the man at the table said warmly. 

“Rhys, so good to see you,” Drake said in a tone Alexa didn’t recognize. His tone was calm and smooth. 

“And who’s this?” The warm baritone voice of her husband’s childhood friend asked. 

“This is my wife Alexa Walker. Lex, this is Liam.” 

Alexa’s head immediately snapped up at the name. Liam immediately recognized her unique eyes, an instant connection flowed through the room, almost tangible.

Domestic Abuse Hotline: [phone].SAFE

#theroyalromance #fanfiction #liam

[writerwrites]

Little Town Street

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: A college fling with Andy Barber is rekindled when you move back to Boston and you’re both single. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Smut 18+, language, tinge of angst, Defending Jacob spoilers / all the warnings that would go along with the series, fleeting mentions of divorce and bad breakups

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 3 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge created by @captainchrisbaby, @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho , and @donutloverxo​ || The Week 3 Prompt was based on  All Too Well by Taylor Swift || I’m only 3 months late, minimum || Fall dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Boston. Your heart raced just thinking about getting back to the place you went to college. The glide of the tassel across your cap and the memories of late night conversations over pizza and beer while elbow deep in a tort. You’d loved the smell of law books and the haze of the green lamps on the library’s oversized and ancient oak desks. The magic of that place was lost on you while you were there, as was the magic of the few relationships you managed to establish while getting your law degree. But here you were, the little suburban town just out of the city, boxes piling up in the empty living room as you settled into your newly single life at a small firm that liked your big New York City success. This was a needed change after a painful breakup. This was your clean break.

Covered in sweat with your hair in a messy top bun, tank top slithering up the steep curves of your soft sides while the sun kissed the back of your bronzed skin, you heard a honk at the intersection in front of your house. The unexpected sound jolted you and the heavy box of books slipped from your fingers and landed on your foot. Hopping to the steps of your new brick home, you looked over at the intersection. It was a near-accident that was the cause of the ruckus. Both cars now at a standstill at the center of the four-way intersection. It took a minute for you to process the shock as you rubbed at your aching foot, but there he was, thick brown hair and bright blue eyes looking at you through the windshield of a black Audi A6. Andy Barber.

With such a public court case and the subsequent car accident, every news-viewing American knew who he was and knew a little too much about him. The problem was that while you’d sat in your own office in the Big Apple, trying to put yourself in Andy’s shoes, you watched a person you once knew in a new light and while your now-ex kept bringing up the commentary of obvious guilt, you couldn't help but sympathize with the collapse of his life. It was too easy for you to slip into the heartache of a family stalked and ruined, a person left so completely exposed and judged by everyone that you’d trusted. It was, after all, why you’d left New York. It was a miracle you’d gotten your fresh start, the Barbers certainly didn’t. You could picture it, but you never speculated, never stayed on the channel when the case came on. Every fiber of your being couldn’t look at him, not because of what broadcasters said but because of the too real memories of a love lost.

You were the one that ended the stare-off, your foot aching more with every passing second. Jaw clenched and lips pressed into a line, you were just about to convince yourself that there was no way Andy Barber, your biggest competition in college and your first love, was outside your new home… and then you heard him say your name. God, it always sounded so good coming from his mouth. The last time you’d heard it he was asking you not to go, drunk outside the bar you’d had your first date telling you that what you two had was bigger than the careers ahead. He didn’t see the tears streaming down your face once you turned away to get in your cab. Maybe, after all this time, he thought you didn’t hear him scream your name.

When you opened your eyes Andy was there at the bottom of your driveway on that little town street, brows knit together with concern as he locked his car that was perfectly parked on the steep driveway like he’d done it a million times. “Don’t look so worried about me, Andrew. You’re the one who just nearly crashed a bajillion dollar car.”

He laughed, despite noticing how you’d used his full name like you two were standing on opposite ends of a courtroom- and maybe you were. But that laugh, the warmth of it wrapped you up and you were thrown back through the magic and memories of that romance once more. The plaid shirts you stole in the middle of the night to run to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Your skin was covered in goosebumps despite the heat as you remembered how Andy had peeled you out of his shirts to warm you back up with his skin on yours, the metal of the fridge pressed to your back. Every moment with him was crystal clear in your mind the smells of autumn and taste of cider and beer when your tongues met, the feeling of his beard scratching your thighs, and... It took his hands on your chin to pull you out of the pain and want of those happier days that you’d ignorantly run from scared of settling. “Are you sure the box didn’t land on your pretty little head?”

The sound that passed your lips was practically a damn purr, you mentally cursed him for pulling it out of you with familiar ease. Opening your eyes to look up at him, you wondered if the emotions of that tumultuous relationship sat at the forefront of his mind too and if it was written on your face. “Nope, definitely landed on my foot.” Swallowing at the sandpaper in your throat, you looked at the swollen discolored mess. “You didn’t have to see if I was okay.”

“First, yeah, I did. It’s been fifteen or sixteen years since I’ve seen you. Second, I saw you hop over here clutching your foot. I can’t leave a wounded deer on the side of the road, can I?” His hands were stubbornly placed on his hips and that’s when you noticed the pale indent of a missing wedding band on his left hand’s ring finger. His blue eyes followed your gaze and he rubbed at the spot like he’d not gotten used to the absence of the cool metal. A similar thin, faded line from a discarded engagement ring on your matching finger. “I guess we’ve both been through it.”

Offering him a small smile, he helped you up and as Andy’s strong hands clutched your waist you wondered if he’d remembered just how ticklish the space between your ribs and hip were when he was careful to not touch you there. When you grabbed at the perfectly tailored coat trying to hop around the man let out an amused grumble and scooped you up. “Aren’t we a little old for grand gestures?” Your head rolled back as you laughed and he turned to get you through the door without smacking your injured foot on the frame. “Jesus are you hitting the gym and benching thick girls, Barber?”

The laughter filling the house was only amplified by his unceremonious dropping of you onto the love seat. The crooked smile looking down at you made you melt. That look, it was a drug that you’d had you first taste of in a mock trial, when he knew he’d won his case and looked back at you in the seats behind him, taking notes. “Other than the box on the lawn, are there any more?”

“You don’t have to..”

“But I’m going to and I want to. Besides, you can’t.” Andy was already pulling off his coat, loosening his tie, and buttoning his shirt before you could protest... not that you were capable of it. He bit his lip when he caught sight of you drinking him in. The slacks and the undershirt that clung to him. “Like what you see?”

“It’s rude.” You stated matter of fact, gesturing to all of him. Andy raised his hands as if to apologize, heading to the door to get to work. Closing your eyes, you could perfectly picture that one picture of the two of you at your graduation. Inadvertently, you mumbled to yourself. “I miss looking that damn good.”

If your eyes hadn’t been closed maybe you would’ve seen the way he froze in the doorway, biting his tongue before stepping out. It wasn’t until you heard the hefty thunk of a box on the hardwood floor that you peaked your eyes open. A clear sheen of sweat glistened on his brow and you bit your lip, the heat running over your body was hardly from moving boxes or the summer heat pouring in the front door. “Please tell me the rest of it isn’t boxes of books, Legal Beagle.”

Scoffing at the old nickname you sighed, “Nope, it’s just bottles of wine and liquor and pictures. The remnants that I didn’t want to break or misplace in the moving truck that came a few days ago.”

“You’ve been here for days and you didn’t call.” His tone was surprisingly wounded.

“Well, Legal Eagle, you didn’t exactly shoot me an email either.” Andy’s eyes burned into you when you used his old nickname back, but you couldn’t decipher what that look really meant. Before you could ask or apologize he was turning back out the door, leaving you there to chew the inside of your cheek raw.

Andy made quick work of the boxes in your car while you nursed your bruised foot trying to unravel the feelings bubbling to the surface of your mind in memories and regrets. When the front door shut, you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up, eyes fixed on the bruise while you thought about the emotional bruising you’d caused each other. It wasn’t hard to really know why he hadn’t emailed, nothing funny in the broken pieces you bother were left to pack up and move on from. When had you started crying? Cheeks wet when his hands cupped your face, forcing you to look up at him, thumbs brushing the tears away. “Hey, if it hurts that bad maybe we should take you to get it looked at.”

Reaching up you grabbed Andy’s wrists, but you found yourself hanging there, incapable of pulling him off of you. Instead, your thumbs brushed across the inside of his wrists just applying a little bit of pressure before skimming your hands up the firm muscles of Andy’s forearms. Each of you tried to translate the signals the other was putting off. If it hadn’t been for the haze of being so close to him, maybe you would’ve had the sense to pull away. With a sniffle and apologetic smile you shook your head ‘no’- or at least to the best of your ability when he was still comforting you like no time or pain had passed between the two of you. How long had you been holding on to this first love?

This close you could see it, the little creases of age at the corners of his eyes and a little salt and pepper in his beard. Despite the way those lines seemed to crease his face like words of chapters you’d not been privy to, his blue gaze was unchanged and every welcoming detail of them looked at you like you hadn’t changed either. The moment his knee pressed between your thighs to your core you realized just how needy you were, whimpering and parting your legs as he lowered himself onto you. His hands moved down your neck to your breasts and a firm squeeze and the brush of his thumb over your nipples elicited another breathy moan from your lips. How long had it been since anyone had looked at you like that? How long since you’d gotten off?

“Andy,” The weight of his name on your tongue was dizzying, but the way he said your name back was just as heavy. You pulled his mouth to yours and he parted his lips to wrap around  your bottom lip. His beard scratched at your chin, sending shivers down your body.

Picking your hips up from the couch, you satisfied the ache between your legs on his thigh. Smirking against your lips Andy pressed harder into your core. “You missed me.”

“To the bone,” The confession passed your lips and all you wanted was for him to stay, the thought alone so wholly selfish. Your eyes fluttered open, scared that it had been poison on his own tongue, noticing how he’d pulled away ever so slightly. “That wasn’t fair.”

Though it seemed like a poor apology, Andy was already shaking his head to reassure you that it wasn’t. That quiet, it wasn’t a trait in him you recalled. His hands moved down your frame and he pulled you onto his lap, careful to let you move your legs to straddle him and not hit your foot along the way. “Did you think I wouldn’t care that you were coming back?”

Before you could answer, he stole your air again. Andy’s lips pressed to your neck and he hummed as he tasted the salt on your skin. Then he found the spot he used to always mark, that spot that always seemed to peak just a little out of your favorite courtroom blouse. Gasping, your nails scratched softly at his sides. He took it as a hint and pulled off his undershirt, throwing it at the boxes that had his tie, coat, and button up. “Andrew. I’m trying not to assume anything here but…”

He looked up at you so sweetly that it erased whatever logic you were trying to pull on him with that one dopey smile. “Tell me this isn’t home.”

“I..” Your mouth bobbed open and you looked at him with wide eyes. Did he mean Boston or this moment on his lap like pieces were falling into place since you’d left.

Squeezing your thighs in his palms he repeated the question. “Tell me this isn’t home. Tell me you don’t remember the promise you broke. Tell me those boxes with pictures don’t have the pictures of us all over this town.” Was this a call out? If he hadn’t been looking at you with such heartache you would have looked away. “Maybe I asked for too much and maybe I was just as scared as you were about the future I saw for us… but tell me we didn’t just find our time.”

The tips of your fingers moved up his chest and settled at the sides of his neck, innocently tugging at his beard. Leaning forward you pressed your lips to his forehead and slipped off of his lap though your whole body seemed almost unamused by the cruel neglect of his warmth, your legs staying draped over him and one arm still linked through his. Looking over the boxes you found the stack with the bright blue sharpie, ‘winter clothes’ sprawled across the top as it sat halfway between the bottom of the stairs and the closet by the front door. “Grab that one.”

Andy untangled himself from you with his fingers burning across your skin, reluctantly slipping off the couch to grab the box. When he came back with it you noticed a hesitant look on his face. His eyes moved to his discarded clothes and you sighed and pulled him back to the small couch. “Want to tell me why you’re avoiding my questions?” Ignoring him you peeled the box open and moved a few things out of the way while you pulled out exactly what you knew you needed. “I don’t break over honesty anymo-”

Words seemed to escape him the moment he saw his scarf from the first time he’d gone home with you to meet your family. He didn’t do the meet-the-parents charade and the relationship had been new, but yours had welcomed him in and made him want his own one day. Andy never thought he’d settle with someone else, but that’s exactly what he’d done when you didn’t call, write, visit, or move back… he’d settled. That little trip was a memory he’d revisited often in the torment of waiting for you to come back. The pair of you had spent most of the holiday either studying for exams on your twin sized bed or pouring over old photographs from your childhood. Now you could practically see the memories flooding back as he reached for the scarf and brushed his fingers over the soft fabric.

So, it was your turn for a confession, an apology even. “I remember it all. I miss it all. We may have been young, but we weren’t wrong. No one knew me like you did. No one ever has. We grew up, but you lingered here.” Your fingers combed through his hair and tapped his temple before moving down his body to his sternum, tapping at his pulse, “... and here.” Andy covered your hand in his, drawing your fingers lower to the buckle of his slacks. Your cheeks went red and you nodded a ‘there too’ without being able to form the words.

“Do I get a hundredth chance?” The hope in his eyes was mirrored in your own, your racing heart no longer felt like a warning sign.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” A shaky laugh passed your lips. Andy wrapped his arms around you, tender, before he laughed too, his body shaking against yours. “Oh, this is a prank? Well, damn. That’s embarrassing.”

Andy looked at you and lunging forward, mouths ricocheting in a deep kiss, tongues hungry for the lost time. Only when you came up for air, the pair of you now buried in the couch cushions, did he speak up, “You deserve all the hell I’m going to give you for waiting this long to let me love you.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stay and rub my skin raw with this beard?” Squirming under him, the pair of you frantically reached for every clasp and zipper until there was nothing left between you. His lips moved down your frame and you surprised yourself, pulling him back to your mouth. “You’re staying with me Andy Barber.” Your fingers wrapped around his length and pumped him, brushing the head of his cock against your slit, already dripping. “You’re staying so beard on thighs can wait.” Pressing your mouth back to his as you continued to tease him you whimpered, not even needing to say it but recalling how much he used to love hearing it. “I need you. Don’t make me wait anymore. I need to feel all of you. I miss-”

The begging and pawing, he couldn’t take you slowly, not yet at least. Andy rutted himself into you, growling when your tight wet heat wrapped around him. He buried his forehead into the curve of your neck as he thrust into you over and over, savoring the way you gasped at his every slight movement. Andy worshiped the new softness of your frame and none of this felt like strangers trying to figure out how to get each other off. His thumb brushed back and forth across your swollen clit and, unlike anyone else, you stuttered his name as you got closer, clamping around him, hips bucking off the couch to meet every deep thrust as he slowed his pace to draw this out for both of you.

You loved the look on his face, the way he bit his swollen lips between a million kisses left on your sweaty skin. The way he lost focus when you said his name and how he gently grabbed your chin as you stuttered his name again; so close, so wet for him, so ready to finally get off. Permission, your legs shook and you whined as he kept you right there at the tipping point, building himself up to his own orgasm while he edged you. “Come for me, lover.”

The words were so welcome, just enough to push you over the edge and quickly chased by you begging him, “Stay inside me.” Andy throbbed inside you as you pulsed around his cock, your fingers digging into the meat of his thighs as your orgasm didn’t seem to stop, the room seemingly silent as the echoing thrusts and calling out of names tapered out to the sticky collapse of you both tangled up on the love seat.

Your eyes closed, exhaustion settling in, and Andy watched you breathing. Softly, Andy nuzzled his nose against the top of your head. “If you fall asleep, I’ll fall asleep.”

With a hum you nodded, reaching up to his hand that had settled on your breast, patting it, “Would that be so bad?”

More to himself, voice so low you almost couldn’t hear him. “I can’t lose you again. Can’t lose anyone else.”

“There’s probably a lot we can’t talk about, but this isn’t a dream, Andy.” Pivoting just enough to look at him you held his hand and kissed his chin. “I can’t lose you again either. I already lost a foot.”

There it was, that cheeky little smile. You both sleepy laughed and you watched his body relax. “You almost cost me my car.”

“I couldn’t run away again, even if I wanted to.” Crinkling your nose you smiled, brushing your finger over the smooth part of his skin where the missing ring marked him. He did the same. The scarf hung over the back of the sofa and looked up at him. “I don’t want to, if that wasn’t obvious.”

His blue eyes closed, his smile went soft, and Andy Barber fell asleep in your arms. If someone would have told you that this would have happened when you left New York you would have run back to Boston and spared the pair of you a world of pain. Though you were scared of bridging the gaps caused by the many roads the pair of you had taken to get here, you shut your eyes and smile at the reality that all those roads led home- to him. Like kintsugi everything seemed hopeful, incapable of breaking like the last time, stronger and made beautiful through the healing time of quiet apologies, verbal and physical.

It had been him all along, no denying it. Neither of you would ever have to ask the other to stay again.

All Content Tags: @tom-hlover​

CEvans Content Tags: @void-hoechlin​

#captainsweeklychallenge #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x oc #fic: andy barber #writer: writerwrites

[jerakeenc]

many kidfics i’ve read and loved

look who’s reccing a million year old fics now. kidfics, very many. posted to dw for snowflake, thought I’d copy here as well. will be reading most, if not all. if you don’t hear from me again, this list is the culprit.

101 Ways To Get Lucky (In Love) by lenore

18,200 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Rodney McKay is rich, gorgeous and at the top of his game—except someone just moved the goalposts! Now Rodney realizes he is sorely lacking the one status symbol that everybody seems to have…the perfect family. Rodney needs help, so he hires a relationship coach. Single-dad John Sheppard may be an expert, but not when it comes to his own relationships! And every day he spends with Rodney makes him wish that he could be the one to fill the vacancy in Rodney's life…

A Beautiful Lifetime Event by astolat

29,000 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.

An Earlier Heaven by regann

67,400 words | X-Men, Erik/Charles

In the wake of Cuba, Charles and his students are ready to pick up the pieces and work toward achieving Charles's dream of a safe haven for young mutants. Those plans, however, take a surprising turn thanks to a very unexpected complication. As he slowly builds a future for his students and for his child, Charles struggles with the loss of Erik and the secrets he's willing to keep to protect his family, but those strides are shattered when Erik makes a startling reappearance into his life. [mpreg, kidfic, ensemble]

And everything nice by noelia_g

30,200 words | Social Network, Mark/Eduardo

The one where Mark somehow ends up with a child and of course needs a nanny for the amount of time he spends at the office. Only problem is a string of nannys keep trying to get into his pants for what he assumes is his money. Cue Mark's assistant hiring a male nanny, enter Eduardo.

asking to be born by longtime_lurker

26,500 words | Bandom, Pete/Patrick

"Don't worry, it's probably just his big gay freakout," Andy yells cheerfully and unhelpfully into Patrick's ear as they're hustling Pete over to the nearest private clinic.

Better with You by harriet_vane

38,100 words | 1D, Liam/Louis

Based on this prompt at the kinkmeme:

Single parent and solo artist Liam Payne hires Louis Tomlinson to be a full time nanny to his four year old son Sammy. Although the two men don't quite click from the start it's love at first sight between Sammy and Louis. Eventually Louis and Liam warm up to each other and get on like a house on fire, in fact the two become a little too fond of each other.

I refuse to apologize for how sweet this ended up, okay? It's kidfic, I am forever writing kidfic, and this one is even kid-fic-ier than usual.

Can't Get Enough of You (Baby) by eternalbreath

22,100 words | Inception, Arthur/Eames

Eames vanishes from dreamshare and Arthur goes a little crazy looking for him until he stumbles across him -- with a baby.

Chelsea, Chelsea, I Believe by empathapathique

300,800 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

Patrick meets a girl his rookie year.

Don't You Shake Alone by dsudis

62,180 words | Generation Kill, Brad/Nate

Nate looked exactly like Brad always pictured him: exhausted in the full life-in-a-combat-zone sense of the word.

Dude, what's a bulwark? by kellifer_fic

12,150 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

Beacon Hills is the kind of small town where everybody knows everybody, and what everybody knows is that surly diner owner Derek Hale and free spirited single dad Stiles Stilinski have been in love with each other for years. If only they knew it too.

Every Other Beautiful World by rhiannonhero

43,280 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Some things are unexpected but still inevitable in every beautiful world.

Forever, Now by harriet_vane

227,100 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard, Jon/Spencer, Brendon/Ryan, Brian/Greta

Brian rescues kid!Gerard and Mikey from life on the streets, and eventually everyone finds a family.

here comes the sun by oflights

56,600 words | Social Network, Mark/Eduardo

This is a story about growing up, sad 70's rock songs, too much hair gel, "Maxwell's Silver Hammer", a baby with curly hair, a Geiger counter, a dog that isn't named Max, the Chicken Dance, Cheerios, pepper-spray, drugs, sex, and a stuffed chicken named Cluckerberg, nicknamed Cluck. or: Mark raises Sean's accidental baby, and I write the fluffiest thing ever.

I Got a Love (That Keeps Me Waiting) by svmadelyn

163,700 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

There's a lot of different ways this summary could go, like:

Patrick Kane gets more than a gold medal in Sochi.

Or, the classic: It's too late to pull out now.

Or: Patrick Kane continues to thrive in high pressure situations.

Or: Patrick Kane gets knocked up, goes to White Castle, and finds love, not necessarily in that order.

But, ultimately, all that really matters is this: Patrick Kane is keeping his baby.

I Would Be by cathalin

20,290 words | American Idol, Kris/Adam

AU. Adam and Kris meet a few years down the road, when down-on-his-luck Kris and his young daughter Katherine show up to rent a room from Adam, who never made it to an Idol audition.

Ice Ice Baby by uraneia

51,340 words | Hockey, Claude/Danny

A gold medal isn't the only souvenir Claude brings home from Prague.

OR: The one where Claude gets drunk, gets pregnant, and gets convinced to move in with Danny, whom he's been secretly in love with for years. What could possibly go wrong?

my heart is bigger than the distance in between us by estrella30

15,000 words | 1D, Nick/Harry

Nick chuckles quietly but grabs the remote and follows Emma, Aimee coming up close behind him. It’s indeed Harry on the telly, singing along to his latest radio hit and smiling slowly into the camera far too seductively for half eight on a Friday morning, if you ask Nick. He presses the volume just in time to catch the crowd’s roaring applause and see the pink flush Harry’s cheeks. Nick watches him duck his head as he gives a small wave to the audience, and it hits Nick that Harry is still the most humble and appreciative billionaire Nick’s ever met.

Good job, popstar, Nick thinks to himself.

or, Nick is a single dad and Harry is his bff and it's a bunch of years into the future and they fall in love

Once Upon a Furry Octopus by skoosiepants

11,270 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

He was an intelligent, intuitive pet, but he wasn’t going to start sniffing out ZPMs or hidden Ancient weaponry or detailed instructions on how to kill a Wraith with a common household item. A pen, for instance.

Reconcilable Differences by astolat

40,000 words | Smallville, Clark/Lex

Luthor Family Values.

Shelter by harriet_vane

63,500 words | Social Network, Jesse/Andrew

From the kinkmeme prompt: Some sort of AU vaguely based on Shelter! For whatever reason, Jesse has to take care of Hallie and give up his dream of being an actor. He ends up working in a dead end job when former, now successful friend (Andrew) returns home. They fall in love, etc, only Jesse can't go away with him because he has a responsibility to his family. CUE ANGST.

Show Me The Way Back Home Baby by stilinskisparkles

15,000 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

In which Lydia and Jackson produce the world's cutest baby, and the pack goes crazy-- the good kind of crazy. Except for Derek, who is afraid of tiny cute babies and Stiles who plans to be the best Uncle ever. Even if Danny called dibs on Godfather.

Skybird by windsweptfic

33,785 words | Inception/White Collar, Arthur/Eames

Arthur and Eames adopt a kid and raise that kid into Neal Caffrey.

Small Cells and Fibers by sevenfists

7,830 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

Tuesdays were finger-painting days. Frank made sure to wear his oldest pair of jeans, because even with his full-length apron and his constant reminders that paint belongs on paper and not on clothing, he always ended up with tiny, multi-colored handprints all over his clothes. There wasn't a thing he could do about it, so he just wore pants from 1995.

Small Primes and Square Roots by liviapenn

12,500 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

"I hope you picked someone really intelligent, otherwise it seems like it would be kind of a waste. Of incubation time, if nothing else."

So Wise We Grow by deastar

81,250 words | Star Trek Reboot, Kirk/Spock

"Commander Spock, we have located your son," the Vulcan lady on the screen says, which would be great, except Jim can tell by the look on Spock's face that he's never heard of this kid before in his life. "If it is expedient, the child will be sent to join you on the Enterprise within the week."

Something Better by lovelypoet

18,350 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

"We all have to take jobs we don't like sometimes, you know?"

The Next Time You Say Forever by Thistlerose

27,300 words | Star Trek Reboot, Kirk/McCoy

After his ex-wife's death, McCoy is forced to leave the Enterprise to look after his teenage daughter. Under normal circumstances, this would be the end of…whatever it is he has with Kirk that's more than friendship, but less than what he wants. But the universe has other intentions.

The Reeducation of Misters Kane and Toews by jezziejay

15,900 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

In which Kaner sort of has a kid, and Mr. Toews doesn't know which of them is the bigger brat.

AU featuring teacher!Jon and hockey-player!Kaner. With bonus 'Hawks characters, love notes, pasta jewelry, Be Better Pizzas, pirouettes, a sprinke of angst and guest appearance by Derek Jeter.

The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe

117,430 words | Hobbit, Thorin/Bilbo

In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End.

He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.

This Story Was Brought to You by Our Sponsors by scaramouche

29,500 words | Supernatural, Dean/Castiel

Dean's post-apocalyptic life is a friggin' soap opera. Romance! Angst! Separations! Reunions! Pizza Dinners! A Child Dean Never Knew He Had! It's all very dramatic.

throw a little sparkle all over it by etben

26,000 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

"Hey, Ma," Mikey says. "No, everything's fine—well, I mean, Gerard accidentally adopted a baby—no, he's changing her now, he can't talk."

Tiny Houses by ohmyjetsabel

77,130 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

Tip, Slide, Tumble by j_s_cavalcante

42,900 words | due South, Fraser/Kowalski

Ray knew when he found the body in the alley it was going to change someone's life. He just didn't expect that life would be his.

Turn by saras_girl

306,000 words | Harry Potter, Harry/Draco

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Unless it's lies or it's love by sprat

25,300 words | American Idol, Kris/Adam

In which Adam (a rock star) meets Kris (a single dad) at an Emergency Room in Arkansas at the end of a particularly shitty night. Also features: San Francisco, fresh starts, baked goods, OCs, cameo appearances by Matt and Megan, pirates, monsters with garbage heads and a recording studio.

What Child Is This by lamardeuse

30,150 words | Merlin, Arthur/Merlin

A modern AU with Merlin, Arthur, mayhem, a baby and a jingly elf hat.

What to Expect by arsenic

29,200 words | Bandom, Bob/Mikey

Mikey has his band, and his little girl, and that's enough. Really, it is.

Winter's Children by neery

66,890 words | Marvel, Bucky/Steve

When their attempts to recreate the super soldier serum failed, Hydra started trying to breed Captain America clones from his genetic samples. Unfortunately, the serum's effects aren't passed down genetically, so instead of an army of tiny Captain Americas, they get a bunch of tow-headed, asthmatic, allergic, immuno-compromised little Steves.

And then the Winter Soldier stumbles across Hydra's failed experiment...

With Six You Get Eggroll by speranza

31,000 words | due South, Fraser/Kowalski

"Kick 'em In The Head: A Guide To Parenting."

ETA: Bonus! Because I apparently lost my bookmark for this one but have the memory of an elephant for kidfic, so it came to me eventually. :D

A Farm in Iowa 'Verse by sheafrotherdon

166,000 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

John inherits a farm, Rodney ends up entirely out of his element, and there is much ado about baseball.

#kidfic #recs

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 1)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge -- You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 1857

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong and @arrow-guy and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

Ever since you were little, you’d heard the legends. The legend of soulmates. It was as common as Santa Claus or winning the lottery. Some weren’t sure they believed it, because although it was real, it was so rare that people didn’t know how to feel about it. Perhaps it was like believing in ghosts. Documented cases, proof, eye witness accounts weren’t enough to sway some skeptics. Yet, it had to be real because there was a registry, much like when you go to get your license or file a birth certificate or a social security number. There was a system in place to keep track of soulmates.

While others, mainly hopeless romantics, truly believed in soulmates. You heard whispers of it when people talked of their grandparents “perfect marriage” and how they just had to be soulmates. You’d heard some kids on the playground swear their cousin just got their soulmate. 

Now, it wasn’t for everyone. It was a rarity, and much like winning the lottery, it only happened to a select few. 

The few were seemingly random. Everyone from celebrities and CEOs down to starving artists and people who managed grocery stores. It touched all races, religions, and economic status. It was global. It wasn’t unheard of for a South American woman to be mated with a French man. Or one Australian to find their mate within Africa. 

Stories of epic journeys to find their love and mate had been told as bedtime stories. Heart wrenching stories of soulmates who never got to be together. 

The idea of soulmates was so endowed in the world and in history that it was rare enough to be celebrated, but common enough to be easily accepted. That’s why, when people walked with scars all over their body, formed in words, people didn’t even think twice.

That’s how it worked. On people’s 18th birthday, their soulmate was assigned, if they had one. Writing on any part of your skin would show up on your mate’s skin as a scar, and vice-versa. For two days out of the year, their birthdays, they could communicate this way. 

The only downside was that you couldn’t give out your information to your mate -- that part was up to the universe. When they needed you most, their name and address would show up on your arm. It could be life or death, it could be a mental breakdown, it could be that they’re hurt and need a friend. But until then, you shouldn’t share personal information. People had done it before, met their mates before the universe decided it was time, and awful things tended to happen. 

But if they were patient enough, willing enough to wait for the right day, it would all be worth it and they were usually guaranteed a happy life. 

Even though you grew up with this knowledge, you’d let it fall to the wayside in your mind. School and friendships took precedence, and you led your life normally. Every now and again, like on birthdays, a fleeting thought of the prospect of a soulmate would run through your head, but for the most part, you filed it away as a fantasy. 

That was, until your best friend Jenny reminded you of it on your 18th birthday.

You were having a party at your house. A group of about ten friends and you went out and played mini-golf, then had pizza at your house with cake and gifts, then watched a new movie. Your parents gave you money to buy a lottery ticket for fun, and gave you some money for college. 

Nearly everyone had gone home, and your parents already wished you a happy birthday with hugs and kisses before going off to bed. All that was left were you and Jenny, and she was about to walk out the door.

“I’m just saying, you’re 18 now,” she stated as she walked. 

“Yeah, I gathered that when I counted 18 candles on the cake, what’s your point?” you asked with a smile.

“My point is, maybe you should try and see if you’ve got a soulmate.” 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “Jenny, the odds of me having a soulmate are like 1 in a million. It’s a silly idea.”

“That’s been true. You know it and I know it. What’s the harm in finding out? I just had a cousin last year that found out. She wrote some appointment down when she was 21, her soulmate got it and wrote back.” 

You perched an eyebrow at her. “How romantic.” 

“I’m serious! Come on, how cool would it be?” 

“It would be kind of neat,” you admitted sheepishly, grinning. “But if no one writes back--”

“Then you haven’t lost anything, and you’ll find someone great later in life. No harm, no foul. Right?” She gave you that super convincing gorgeous smile before dropping her pushiness. “Alright, alright. Just think about it, okay? Happy birthday,” she said before hugging you tightly. 

“Thanks,” you said back.

With that, you cleaned up the kitchen and living room, gathered your gifts, and headed up to bed.  You pulled on your pajamas and crawled into your bed, you sat there, thinking about what Jenny had said.

What would be the harm in writing on your arm? If no one spoke back, it was no big deal, right? 

But if they didn’t write back, would you be saddened? You’d always secretly hoped you had a soulmate out there, so to find out you didn’t have one would be a little devastating. Of course, your life wouldn’t be over, and like Jenny said, you could always find a partner just like you normally would. 

Ultimately, it was just a schoolgirl fantasy… but what if it wasn't? you wondered idly as you sat with your leg propped up on the bed. 

You grabbed a pen off your nightstand and took a deep breath, trying to think of the best thing to ask - this would be scarred on them indefinitely after all. 

You thought, and you thought, pondering anything you could say. But what do you say to a potential soulmate? Finally, you decided there was no perfect way to go about this, and you put your pen to your arm, writing: Is anyone out there? 

You held your breath for a second, wondering if you’d get a scar somewhere in response, even bracing for some form of pain, but after a few moments -- nothing. Nothing happened. 

You sighed. Well, it was a long shot anyway.

After lying in bed disappointed for a while, a feather light sensation came crawling across your arm. You frowned for a split second before glancing down and seeing the letters. Instantly, a grin grew wide across your face. 

“Hi there. : )” 

You wanted to jump for joy. Immediately, your heart soared at the sight. Someone out there was actually fated to be yours? You couldn’t believe this. Why you? You weren’t special. 

“This is my email, if you would like to talk more,” you offered, scribbling on your skin before adding in your email. You opted for email since any other form of communication you might be tempted to find out their name.

Within two minutes, a ping noise came from your computer. You sprang from your bed, not even caring that you were the epitome of a school girl right that second. You dashed the cursor over to your inbox and read the new email. 

“Hello. So I suppose this means we’re soulmates...”

“I suppose it does,” you wrote back, a giant grin on your face. 

“We should probably get some of the formalities out of the way. What should I call you? How old are you?” 

“You can call me… Y/F/I. And I’m 18, today is my birthday. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of people giving out their information before their time. I think we should stick to initials.” 

One minute later, in the same penmanship, you felt something on your bicep -- Happy Birthday

The smile on your face lit back up. 

“That’s my gift to you. And yes, I have heard of the stories. I would rather be safe than sorry as well. You can call me X. I’m 21. I’m in college, actually in graduate school.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. You’re already in grad school? How? What’s your area of study? I’m going into college in the fall - psychology.” 

“I think I should be surprised, but I’m not. That’s what my PhD will be in,” he informed. “As well as genetics and biophysics.” 

Well, the universe is funny, isn’t it? 

You continued to read his message. 

“Long story short, I graduated college at 16. Harvard, if you can believe it.”

Instantly, you were hit with a wave of surprise and shock. Your soulmate was a genius? He was a Harvard grad at 16? In what universe was that possible?

“That’s… really impressive. God I wish I could do that. It’d be amazing to be already done with college. I haven’t even gone there yet but it seems like a lot of work and a lot of stress. Hopefully, the pay off will be worth it though.” 

“What are you wanting to do with your degree?”

“Psychiatry.”

“A noble profession.” 

“I think so. I’d like to help people, as corny as that sounds.”

“I don’t think it sounds corny at all. Quite admirable, in fact. If people didn’t feel that way, we wouldn’t have good people in the world.”

He already thought you were a good person? you wondered, warmth spreading over you.

“I guess that is one way to look at it. I just want to help people and be a voice for people who don’t exactly have a lot of advocates.”

“That’s precisely why we get into these professions, darling,” he wrote.

Darling? Wow, so far, this guy was the jackpot. 

“I suppose it is. So what are some of your favorite books, if you don’t mind me asking? And movies. I feel like a quick way to get to know someone pretty well is through their interests.”

“Indeed it is,” he replied. “I happen to favor T.H. White’s The Once and Future King, as far as books go and I don’t particularly have time for many films.”

“Oh, I see,” you started, and then explained your favorite books and film. 

He had asked you why you liked those and you went into a rather lengthy explanation of why you enjoyed them more than others. After that you two talked music, actually having quite a lot in common there. 

You stayed up all night emailing, until the sun came up. It wasn’t until the glare hit your computer screen that you realized it, either. You didn’t want to end the magical evening, but you did need rest, and you were sure as a grad student, he needed all he could get as well. 

That morning you went to sleep with this newfound relief. It was one less thing you’d have to worry about in life. Worry about finding a mate, a partner for life. They were already there, already perfect, already waiting…

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

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Charles Xavier

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#the stars made us #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier fic #charles xavier #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fic #stephen strange

[hanbintms]

            it  is  eye  ,  kofi  ,  back  on  your  dash  with  my  newest  child  !  as  a  reminder  :  i’m  twenty4  ,  prefer  she / her  or  they / them  pronouns  ,  and  i  reside  in  the  est  timezone  !  the  muse  that  i  have  flowing  for  hanbin  is  truly  unmatched  even  though  i  literally  came  up  with  him  within  like  . . .  three  hours  ,  no  kidding  .  that  being  said  ,  he’s  a  brand  new  muse  and  i  can’t  wait  to  plot  with  everyone  once  again  (  or  for  the  first  time  !  )  i  won’t  talk  your  ears  off  as  i  know  this  intro  might  get  a  little  long  ,  but  aside  from  that  ,  can’t  wait  to  write  hanbin  with  ya’ll  !

            (  SONG  KANG , THIRTY , CIS  MAN , HE / HIM  )  *  hey  ,  i’m  looking  for  the  office  of  HANBIN  KOO  .  they’re  the  EMPLOYEE  /  IN - HOUSE  CHEF  who’s  known  around  the  office  as  THE  EPICURE  ,  if  that  helps  ?  not  to  be  a  gossip  ,  but  i’ve  heard  that  they’re  AFFABLE  but  UNCOUTH  ,  is  that  true  ?  i  also  heard  that  they’re  the  one  who  THREW  ICED  TEA  AT  HIS  EX  IN  THE  LOBBY  .  anyways  ,  here’s  the  coffee  they  ordered  .

statistics.

            name  :  koo  hanbin  .  nicknames  :  han  ,  hannie  ,  hanbinie  ,  +  binnie  .  age  +  date  of  birth  :  thirty  +  january  9th,  1991  .  zodiac  :  capricorn  .  moral  alignment  :  true  neutral  .  gender  +  pronouns  :  cis  man  +  he / him / his .  place  of  birth  :  busan  ,  south  korea  .  place  of  residence  :  west  village  ,  new  york  city  ,  new  york  .  orientation  :  bisexual  biromantic  .  occupation  :  in  house  chef  and  internet  personality  .  nationality  :  korean  (  holds  american  citizenship  )  .  ethnicity  :  korean  .  language(s)  spoken  :  korean  ,  english  ,  conversational  italian  ,  and  conversational  japanese  .

background.

            koo  hanbin’s  life  was  relatively  normal  when  he  was  born  .  his  mom  ,  koo  seonghwa  ,  worked  as  a  nurse  in  the  pediatric  department  of  a  local  hospital  in  busan  while  his  father  ,  koo  kyuchul  ,  was  an  office  worker  .  they  weren’t  the  richest  family  ,  nowhere  near  it  ,  but  the  koo  family  made  it  work  .  hanbin  has  more  memories  of  being  with  his  grandparents  more  often  than  his  parents  simply  because  of  their  demanding  careers ,  but  that’s  not  to  say  that  they  weren’t  loving  and  attentive  parents  when  they  had  time  to  be  with  their  only  son  .  

             however  ,  life  began  to  change  for  him  when  was  six  years  old  .  suddenly  ,  the  money  began  to  dwindle  as  quickly  as  it  was  brought  in  .  the  refrigerator  wasn’t  full  unless  seonghwa’s  mother  would  make  some  things  for  them  ,  and  kyuchul  was  coming  home  later  and  later  .  seonghwa  began  to  work  harder  in  an  attempt  to  break  even  ,  but  she  never  seemed  to  get  her  head  above  water  .  she’d  confront  her  husband  about  the  large  sums  of  money  that  would  disappear  from  their  account  ,  but  he  always  blamed  it  on  higher  bills  ,  raised  rent  ,  or  sudden  payments  that  he  had  to  make  .  it  never  made  any  sense  ,  but  seonghwa  started  a  separate  account  to  ensure  their  son  could  at  least  have  food  on  the  table  and  clothes  for  school  .

            the  next  couple  of  years  go  by  and  the  money  situation  worsens  ,  with  seonghwa  getting  to  her  wits  end  .  she  spends  more  time  with  hanbin  at  her  parents’  place  ,  sleeping  with  her  son  in  her  old  bedroom  and  hoping  he  doesn’t  hear  her  cry  at  night  .  she  struggles  to  understand  why  her  husband  is  keeping  secrets  from  her  ,  especially  as  they’ve  been  married  happily  for  the  last  eleven  years  ,  but  it  takes  some  tough  love  from  her  mother  to  get  seonghwa  to  pick  herself  up  .  so  ,  she  decides  to  confront  her  husband  one  night  when  she  finds  out  his  location  from  one  of  his  co - workers  ,  and  she’s  devastated  .  seonghwa  finds  kyuchul  with  a  younger  woman  ,  gambling  away  her  hard  earned  money  .  like  a  scene  out  of  a  drama  ,  seonghwa  kicks  her  husband  where  the  sun  doesn’t  shine  and  promptly  dragged  the  other  woman  outside  to  wack  her  upside  the  head  with  her  purse  .  seonghwa  was  hurt  ,  but  she  had  finally  gotten  answers  ,  and  she  wasn’t  going  to  be  embarrassed  like  this  ever  again  .

            so  ,  seonghwa  and  hanbin  permanently  move  in  with  her  parents  ,  and  it  takes  some  time  for  seonghwa  to  get  over  kyuchul  .  she  focuses  on  her  child  and  her  job  .  from  the  age  of  ten  ,  hanbin  began  spending  more  time  with  his  grandparents  in  their  small  ,  but  popular  barbecue  meat  restaurant  .  when  he  finishes  his  homework  ,  he  helps  his  grandparents  take  orders  ,  and  he  slowly  begins  to  work  the  kitchen  as  he  gets  older  .  his  grandparents  soon  leave  the  kitchen  work  to  him  as  they  get  up  in  age  ,  and  hanbin  runs  the  kitchen  as  if  he’d  been  doing  it  for  over  twenty  years  .  however  ,  when  he  graduates  from  high  school  ,  hanbin  decides  to  spread  his  wings  .  over  the  last  twelve  years  or  so  ,  hanbin  honed  his  cooking  skills  from  his  grandfather  and  spent  most  of  his  childhood  in  the  kitchen  ,  so  his  grandparents  passed  their  restaurant  down  to  seonghwa’s  brother  ,  and  hanbin  left  for  new  york  .

            eighteen  years  old  and  with  only  enough  money  to  get  a  small  sublet  ,  he  knew  he  needed  to  find  a  job  pronto  .  without  formal  kitchen  training  ,  hanbin  would  often  get  turned  away  from  jobs  (  because  he  was  better  than  a  busboy  !  )  and  eventually  ,  the  fates  was  on  his  side  .  he  forced  his  way  into  the  kitchen  of  a  popular  italian  restaurant  ,  immediately  snagging  the  title  of  junior  chef  .  hanbin  ,  a  fast  learner  with  even  faster  knife  skills  ,  easily  works  his  way  up  the  ranks  within  the  restaurant  .  within  six  years  ,  hanbin  becomes  head  chef  and  is  a  force  to  be  reckoned  with  in  the  kitchen  .  although  his  income  changes  significantly  ,  hanbin  starts  a  youtube  channel  in  hopes  of  sharing  his  love  for  food  and  cooking  .  within  a  year  ,  his  following  grows  substantially  ,  and  he’s  approached  to  broaden  his  efforts  by  working  at  masters  international  .

at masters.

hanbin  has  been  at  masters  for  five  years  .  he  started  working  here  after  his  youtube  channel  expanded  ,  and  he  was  approached  to  create  his  own  cooking  content  for  masters’  youtube  channel  .  

basically  ,  he  has  his  own  version  of  test  kitchen  ,  but  it’s  not  really  the  same  thing  .  he  makes  recipes  for  holidays  ,  celebrations  ,  and  is  constantly  showing  how  to  make  traditional  korean  dishes  (  would  not  be  surprised  if  he  has  a  ‘  cooking  with  my  mom  !  ’  type  series  )  .

gives  food  tips  too  like  which  wines  pair  best  with  certain  foods  or  how  to  make  the  most  out  of  your  first  hosting  gig  .  probably  has  a  video  where  he  shares  his  cooking  playlist  because  he  wants  you  to  get  in  the  mood  😌  .

probably  came  up  with  the  special  lunch  for  Daddy  Masters™  but  gets  ticked  when  he’s  asked  to  cook  it  because  does  that  man  know  a  schedule  ?  probably  not  .  [  ‘  we  were  on  a  break  !  ’  specifically  ,  hanbin2   was  on  his  lunch  break  .  ] 

is  it  true  that  he  threw  an  iced  tea  in  his  ex’s  face  ?  absolutely  ,  and  he  has  no  problem  admitting  it  lmao  .  who  was  said  ex  ?  i  guess  we’ll  never  know  [  this  a  number  one  champion  sound  ]  .

probably  well  received  around  the  office  but  i  wouldn’t  be  surprised  if  people  disliked  him  .  it  could  be  his  off  putting  persona  or  honestly  the  simple  fact  that  he’s  got  a  lot  of  sass  and  no  ass  .

headcanons.

you  can  read  a  full  list  of  headcanons  HERE  ;  below  is  an  abridged  version  .

has  a  gyeongsang  dialect  from  living  in  busan  ,  and  honestly  . . .  that’s  hot  .  so  ,  when  he  speaks  in  korean  it’s  rather  strong  and  aggressive  /  pitch  is  vastly  different  from  other  parts  of  korea  .  

i  literally  have  no  idea  how  to  explain  his  personality  other  than  by  using  his  moral  alignment  :  true  neutral  .  he’s  kinda  that  guy  who  knows  everything  but  won’t  tell  you  that  he  does  ?  did  he  eavesdrop  ?  maybe  ,  but  he  won’t  tell  you  that  .  he’s  largely  indifferent  to  a  lot  of  what  happens  around  masters  and  maybe  it’s  because  he’s  been  here  for  half  a  decade  ;  he’ll  just  make  sure  you  drink  water  if  you’re  drunk  and  crying  .

a  Dog  Father™  to  a  little  re:  big  goldendoodle  named  duri  .  he  is  most  definitely  judging  you  and  can  often  be  found  sunbathing  in  that  solarium  .  

a  very  simple  man  when  it  comes  to  his  coffee  :  caffè  americano  or  an  espresso  macchiato  please  .  and  don’t  forget  the  butter  croissant  !

mostly  expressionless  . . .  like  i  really  have  no  idea  how  to  explain  how  he  looks  at  people  because  i  feel  that  stoic  is  too  harsh  of  a  word  .  if  you  wanna  know  how  he  feels  though  ,  he  has  extremely  expressive  eyes  .

he  won’t  admit  it  but  he  loves  hosting  .  office  potluck  ?  he’s  your  guy  .  having  a  conference  ?  he’ll  make  your  snacks  .  if  you’re  coming  over  he’ll  make  a  charcuterie  board  and  will  lie  saying  he  made  it  with  some  stuff  he  had  on  hand  (  but  that’s  a  lie  ,  he  went  to  the  grocery  store  and  obsessed  over  it  for  a  solid  three  hours  )  .

finds  joy  in  the  mundane  .  some  people  might  think  he’s  weird  because  he  loves  grocery  shopping  ,  and  heavily  judges  people’s  carts  because  processed  food  ?  yuck  !  he  won’t  say  that  to  your  face  though  he’ll  just  be  like  ‘  are  you  sure  you  wanna  buy  that  ?  ’  and  will  sneakily  replace  your  frozen  pizza  with  pizza  ingredients  hehe  .

that  being  said  don’t  take  him  grocery  shopping  with  you  NFUDNSFDS  .  he  gets  ticked  about  food  waste  ,  and  those  who  don’t  use  reusable  bags  .   probably  has  a  lil  garden  at  his  place  and  composts  !  is  angry  about  people  calling  a  chunk  of  cauliflower  a  steak  (  in  other  words  ,  don’t  to  it  )  !

wanted connections.

DISCLAIMER  :  i  will  not  be  plotting  anything  romantic  with  characters  under  the  age  of  twenty - five  due  to  his  age  !

ONE  TRUE  LOVE  :  this  is  open  to  literally  anyone  ,  preferably  like  ,  28  to  30  but  we  can  talk  details  .  truly  ,  they’re  his  one  true  love  as  the  title  states  ,  and  i  like  to  believe  that  they  were  a  really  happy  couple  who  had  a  meet - cute  .  they  moved  in  together  and  things  were  great  ,  but  they  broke  up  when  they  felt  a  mutual  dissolve  in  their  relationship  .  that  being  said  ,  they’re  good  friends  now  !

BEST  FRIEND  :  who  wouldn’t  love  a  best  friend  .  basically  ,  they  get  along  well  ,  and  they  are  used  to  sung’s  non - verbal  communication  NVJCNXJV  .  it’d  be  really  fun  if  they  had  totally  different  personalities  but  somehow  they  managed  to  click  .  TAKEN  BY  GRIFFIN  OLSON  .

TASTE  TESTER  :  someone  who  he  calls  on  to  often  try  his  food  at  the  office  .  they  possibly  will  appear  in  his  videos  on  masters’  youtube  channel  ,  so  i  think  a  relationship  based  around  food  would  be  really  fun  !  TAKEN  BY  KENNEDY  CRAWFORD  /  SORAYA  HATHAWAY  .

HORN  DOGS  (  DEROGATORY  )  :  i  have  no  other  name  for  this  plot  but  i’m  thinking  two  people  who  cannot  keep  their  hands  off  of  one  another  .  i’m  talking  sneaky  touches  in  the  elevator  ,  secret  hook  ups  in  the  seventh  floor  bathroom  ,  quick  makeouts  and  nearly  getting  caught  .  bonus  points  if  people  around  the  office  don’t  believe  they’re  Banging™  because  their  personalities  are  so  different  .  

CRUSH  :  also  known  as  ,  someone  having  a  crush  on  him  ,  but  he  sees  them  as  a  friend  (  or  even  worse  ,  like  a  younger  sibling  )  .  TAKEN  BY  AYLIN  SAHIN  .

PLATONIC  SOULMATE  :  best  friends  ,  but  make  it  sentimental  .  they  are  thicker  than  thieves  ,  get  on  each  other’s  nerves  ,  but  they  don’t  know  what  they’d  do  without  the  other  .  finish  each  other’s  sentences  (  and  sandwiches  .  sung  will  finish  it  )  and  are  borderline  like  an  old  married  couple  with  the  way  they  act  .

that’s  all  i  got  now  but  i’ve  reblogged  some  posts  that  can  be  found  HERE  and  i’m  down  to  fill  any  wcs  that  you  may  have  as  well  !

#masters.intro #this is really long MVJCNXVC sorry ya'll

[etoileholland]

Love showed up at my door

Based on the iconic Jonas Brothers song

Pairing: Tom Holland x female reader

Warnings: none, but it’s cheesy ;)

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Tom and Harrison fell in love with the pizza girl, and now they’ve been eating a lot of pizza

A/N: Yes I have uploaded this about six times because the tags are not working and I am sorry. 

It started one unsuspecting Thursday in New York, when Marvel was filming a scene from Spider-Man 3 off of 86th and 2nd Avenue in Manhattan. Tom was busy filming, and half a day and a lot of filming later, he and Harrison trudged to their trailer before collapsing on the couch.

“I swear man, I’ve never been more exhausted and famished in my life.” Harrison remarked as he slightly turned his head to see Tom sprawled out. “You know what sounds really good? Pizza. I could go for some pizza right about now.”

“Good idea. Hey, let’s order pizza from Vinnie’s down the way. It’s suspiciously cheap but super good and quick.” Tom suggested as he flipped himself over onto his back.

“Is that how you would be described if you were a male escort?” Harrison smirked and was met with a pillow being thrown at his face.

“Shut up and order the damn pizza.” Tom groaned as Harrison ordered online.

“Okay it’ll be here in about 10, so we just need to hold out until then.” He stated while Tom nodded his head.

“Wake me up when it gets here.” He added and Harrison agreed to do so.

About eleven minutes later there was a knock at the door, and Harrison mustered up the last bit of energy he had to walk to the door. He opened it up to see you, and his jaw dropped.

“Oh hello.” He ran his fingers through his hair, while lightly clearing his throat.

“Hello to you too. You ordered two large pizzas, one pepperoni with extra cheese and the other Hawaiian, correct?” You asked, while he began to nod his head profusely.

“Cool, it’ll be $11.56 please.” You stated as you handed him the pizzas, but he stood there frozen.

“Oh I, um, don’t have any money on me. Hold on a second.” He closed the door slightly and ran over to Tom before pushing him off the couch.

“What the hell-”

“Shut up, the pizza delivery girl is super pretty and I don’t have any American cash so give me a twenty.” He begged and Tom jumped up to open the door to see what you looked like.

You were standing there looking like an angel, and your hair was in a ponytail with little tendrils of hair framing your face. He began to choke on air as he saw you smile, and he knew that he would be ordering from Vinnie’s more frequently.

“Hello, um hi. I have twenty pounds, erm dollars for the pizzas.” He said and you smiled.

“That’s good, otherwise I would have to eat these pizzas by myself.” You laughed as Tom guffawed.

“Wow you are funny, and extremely beautiful.” He gasped, holding his hand over his mouth.

“Thank you, here’s the change and enjoy the pizzas.” You waved, making your way down the steps of the trailer.

He closed the door and leaned against it, before letting out a sigh. “God must be real, because she is clearly an angel among us mortals.” He said longingly and Harrison laughed.

“Did you see the way her eyes flickered under the trailer’s fluorescent lights? She’s gorgeous.” He added and took a large bite of a slice of pizza.

“I never thought I would say this but I think Vinnie’s may just be the best pizza, to like, ever exist.” Tom said as he grabbed a slice of pizza and folded it in half, before taking a large bite.

“Wanna have pizza tomorrow night?” Harrison asked with a grin and Tom agreed.

“Oh well be having it every night.”

—

“You know Holland, your suit is getting to be a tad bit too tight, and is that a pot belly I see?” His personal trainer Matt inquired. Everyone had noticed how sluggish and out of breath Tom had been recently, and it definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Matt.

“Maybe, I’ve been eating a lot of pizza recently.” He added as he patted his stomach and let out a burp. “Oh god I feel sick.”

“Yeah you don’t look good, why are you constantly getting pizza then? You know you’re supposed to be on a strict diet.”

“I-” burp “know. It’s just that the pizza delivery girl from Vinnie’s pizza is so gorgeous so Haz and I have been ordering from there every night to see her for a few minutes.”

“Suddenly that makes sense. Okay well do you even know her name?”

“It’s Y/N and gosh she looks like an angel. She smells like vanilla mixed with pizza which sounds utterly disgusting but she’s beautiful so it’s okay.” He rambled as he took a seat on the bench press. “Do you mind if I sleep here for like an hour because whew am I already out of energy.” Tom wiped his hand across his forehead and Matt laughed.

“We haven’t even done anything, you just walked in here a few minutes ago.”

“And that was too much physical energy for today.” He held up his pointer finger and Matt rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, just no more pizza for like the next year, you got it?” Matt crossed his arms in front of his chest and Tom did a thumbs up.

“You got it dude.” He replied as he curled up in a ball on the bench press.

—

“You know Tom, I’m starting to worry about your health. You now have acne, and your face is red and puffy. Also do you have a pot belly now?” You remarked as you stood in the doorway of the trailer.

“Maybe. But it’s okay, I’ll burn it off eventually.” He patted his stomach and let out a groan. Harrison was sprawled out on the couch and you could see that he was wearing sweatpants that accentuated his newly acquired love handles.

“Right, well for the safety of you both, I’m not going to give you the pizza.” You shifted your weight to your right leg as you continued to hold onto the boxes. “Actually, why have you been ordering pizza every night for the past two weeks?”

“Because we wanted to see you.” Harrison replied, but it was muffled due to the fact that his face was buried in the couch.

“Really? That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” You put your hand on your heart and gave a little pout, which only made Tom melt. “But you know that this isn’t the best quality pizza, and you may need a coronary bypass surgery after this.”

“I know, but we wanted to see you, even if it meant putting our health on the line.” Tom rubbed the nape of his neck and you smiled.

“I care about you both, so if you want, you can call me, but not for pizza. Just in general.” You set the boxes of pizza down and pulled out a business card from your pocket. You then grabbed a pen from the end table and wrote your number on the back of it. You handed Tom the card as he looked down at it like he won the golden ticket.

“Thank you. Hey would you, um, want to go on a date with me?” Tom hesitantly asked and you only smiled.

“Oh honey you’re adorable, but I’m already in a relationship. However, I would love to be your friend.” You stated while Tom looked down and nodded. “And besides, I only took the job to help pay for school but I’m graduating. I’m moving out of New York next month anyway.”

“That’s fair, thank you for everything, and good luck with your post graduation life.” He added and you smiled.

“Thank you, I would love to hang out with you guys soon, but now I’m going to take this pizza back. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” You took a few steps closer to the door and stopped. “Try eating a salad for a change.” You reached for the door handle and waved, and Tom waved back.

“Will do, bye.” Tom closed the door behind you and let out a sigh. He turned to look at Harrison, who was halfway off the couch.

“It wasn’t worth it mate, was it?” Tom asked and Harrison groaned. “It might sound cheesy, but I wanted her to stay.” He replied, his voice still muffled.

“Me too mate, me too.” He walked over to Harrison and patted him lightly on the shoulder. “Let’s order from that vegan place from down the street.”

——

Additional A/N: as always, requests and prompts are open! And let me know if you want to be added to the taglist 💛

Mes anges (taglist): @scarletxwidow @starkissedholland @fangirlwithasweettooth @lmaotshollandd @musicalkeys

#tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland blurbs #tom holland one shot #tom holland writing #tom holland fanfic #harrison osterfield #tom holland and you #tom holland prompt #mine #text #marvel #tom holland oneshots

[lovemesomesurveys]

Of the many different American accents, which one is your favorite? I like southern accents. 

What was the last thing you watched on Youtube? I’m currently watching an ASMR video. Are your kitchen windows open right now? My kitchen doesn’t have windows. What was your favorite job you've ever had? I’ve never had a job. Do you know anyone who had a kid before they were financially stable? Yes.

What's your phone's wallpaper picture? I have a fall theme going on currently. When was the last time you saw the person you had your first kiss with? It’s been several years. Have you read any of Shakespeare's works other than Romeo and Juliet? Yeah, King Lear. Is there anything hanging from the doorknob in your room? Yes, I have two hand sanitizers in those covers you can get from Bath & Body Works hanging off it right now. Why did you move to where you're living now? We wanted to. Have you ever kissed someone 3+ years younger than you? No. Do you clean your house all at once, or a little bit at a time? We try to just straighten up as we go. What's your opinion on wearing pajamas in public? Do you yourself do that? Yeah, I don’t care. I used to, but in recent years I’m like fuck it. What was the most severe punishment your parents gave you when you were growing up? Nothing. The only thing that happened was I lost computer privileges for a bit. That sucked, but obviously that’s nothing serious or severe. Have you ever been to California? Born and raised. If so, when was the last time you were there? I’ve been here all my life. About how many times per month do you eat dinner at a restaurant? We get takeout several times a week, but I rarely go out to eat at a restaurant.  Do you think dreams actually mean anything? Why/why not? Sometimes. What's something you're really bad at compared to others? This thing called life. Do you know anyone who treats retail/restaurant employees poorly? No. I can’t stand people who do that. I hear horrible things from my mom who works in retail all the time.  Are most of the books you own hardcover or paperback? Hardcover. When was the last time someone betrayed your trust? What happened? It’s been awhile. How much was gas the last time you filled your car up? I don’t drive, but I just heard on the news recently that my state currently has the highest gas prices in the US. Do you usually fill up at the same gas station? -- What was the topic of conversation the last time you spoke to a sibling? It was about dinner. Are you currently looking for a new job? No. How many times did you move when you were growing up? A few, but only once that I’m old enough to remember. Who is the person you are the closest to? (emotionally, not physically) My mom and brother. What are some odd habits you have relating to food/eating? I pick apart my food instead of biting straight into it, I eat stuff like sandwiches, burgers, and pizza with a fork, I have to have a condiment or sauce of some kind with my food, I don’t eat the edges... just to name a few.  Are any of your relatives musicians? No. Have you ever been in fear for your life? Yes. What was the last caffeinated drink you had? Do you drink this often? Coke and yes. Have you ever read any books by John Steinbeck? No. When was the last time you painted a room in your house? Never. How has your day been so far? It’s only 3 in the morning.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[blazehedgehog]

As an Internet veteran and draw-person, I really need to ask: what anime influenced you and many online artists circa 2000s? There's a specific style from those early 2000s webcomics and fanart I'm looking for and trying to replicate, and your old art fit in that "style", in my opinion. Thank you!

It’s hard to narrow it down, but it’s also not that hard to narrow it down. Anime was a much, much smaller industry back then. The “boom” was just beginning thanks to efforts by the Scifi Channel and Cartoon Network to bring anime to television in timeslots that people would actually watch.

So here’s your crash course in casual anime history, I guess, from someone who definitely isn’t like... obsessed with anime. Or isn’t anymore, but was back then.

For me, it all kind of started with, like... Dragon Ball, and this was a show that struggled to gain any traction at first. Where I lived, it aired at 5am on Sunday mornings. If you knew a kid that watched Dragon Ball, there was a solidarity there like, “Yup, you get it.”

Then DiC got the license to Sailor Moon and started airing it in the weekday morning slot I would typically describe as “right before you catch the bus.” You’d wake up around 6am, maybe 6:15, and watch whatever was on at 6:30 while you ate breakfast. As the credits were rolling, you’d head out to catch the school bus. Sailor Moon was what I remember doing that with the most. That combined with Dragon Ball formed my foundational interest in anime.

Around this time (1995, 1996) you were starting to see anime start to seep in to the mainstream elsewhere. There was a commercial I remember for, like, an anthology of anime classics like Akira...

And, y’know, when you’re like, 14 or 15 and you see a commercial like this -- cartoons! With blood! And nudity! It’s like, holy crap. Most of the classics we know today (Akira, Ghost in the Shell) were only really available via mail order like this back then.

More shows started getting localized for TV, too, like Ronin Warriors was one a lot of my friends got in to. It was considered “The Manly Sailor Moon.” And then there was, of course, Samurai Pizza Cats. Eventually Saban stopped dubbing Dragon Ball altogether and moved straight over to Dragon Ball Z, and that gained enough popularity that I think it eventually shook it out of its Sunday Morning time slot to somewhere a little more visible by general audiences.

Coming in to 1997 and 1998, anime was really starting to gain some momentum. The Scifi Channel had begin doing their “Saturday Anime” show, which aired at 3am every Friday Night/Saturday Morning. They probably figured it was one of the only ways they could get away with showing violent cartoons.

For me, this was where I got my first “real” taste of anime. They had a stable of about 5 or 10 movies and OVAs they’d run. Venus Wars, Vampire Hunter D, Project A-KO, Robot Carnival, Tenchi Muyo In Love (my favorite), Project L.I.L.Y. Cat, Beautiful Dreamer, Galaxy Express 999, Fatal Fury The Motion Picture, Record of Lodoss War, Dominion Tank Police, Roujin-Z, Demon City Shinjiku, Gall Force...

That felt like the bandaid got ripped off. Suddenly we were all buzzing about anime. Hey, have you heard about this movie called Ninja Scroll? There’s hardcore sex in it! No American movie, live action or not, could ever match the body horror of Akira! Hey, does anyone remember Robotech from the 80′s? That was actually anime, too! Wow!

Cartoon Network was smart enough to take notice and snatched up the rights to air Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball Z at reasonable, non-morning hours, and they dug out Voltron and put together a simple block of anime. I don’t even think it necessarily had a name, it was just an hour or maybe 90 minutes of anime a day, and it exploded. Right place, right time. So Cartoon Network expanded.

They added more classic anime, and some shows that were similar in tone, and called it Toonami. Robotech, Ronin Warriors, The Real Adventures of Johnny Quest, Reboot, Thundercats...

And this became the place to watch anime. Which is when we enter the era you’re asking about, the early 2000′s. This is where it starts to feel like a little too much to cover, because it came hot, heavy, and fast. There was a thirst for anime that was hard to quench because production companies were small and choosy about what they’d dub, but at the same time, a sort of gold rush was starting.

When I think of peak, classic-era Toonami, the stuff that really influenced me artistically, it was shows like Outlaw Star, Ruroni Kenshi, and Gundam Wing. I’m sure I’d also have friends speak highly of Big-O, G-Gundam, and Yu Yu Hakusho, three shows I never really got in to.

Eventually, Cartoon Network (and Williams Street, then called Ghost Planet Industries) began to realize that there was a growing library of anime they couldn’t show in the afternoon because it was too intense for the kids. There was also an undoubtedly vocal contingent of anime fans who were frustrated when their favorite shows had to be edited for broadcast. This gave birth to Toonami: The Midnight Run, the precursor to what would eventually become Adult Swim. The Midnight Run became home to uncut (or simply less-cut) episodes of afternoon shows that restored blood, alcoholic references, and the few cases of more extreme violence.

Midnight Run started getting exclusive shows, too. When I think about what Midnight Run (and later Adult Swim) was known for, it was shows like Cowboy Bebop, FLCL, and again, though it wasn’t really something I saw a ton of, Paranoia Agent.

Other networks did try to cash in on the anime craze. I think Tech TV/G4 tried to get in on things with Serial Experiments Lain and a few other shows, but to be honest, it never hit as hard as Toonami did. Then there was obviously the work of guys like 4KIDS, with the Pokemon, Yu-Gi-Oh and Digimon shows on Saturday Morning, but those felt noticeably different in vibe and in tone (something that only got more pronounced when Kids WB started a Saturday Morning Toonami block that was even more aggressively sanitized than what could be shown on Cartoon Network).

Beyond broadcast TV, the stuff I remember being popular among my circle of friends were things like Tenchi Universe, Ranma 1/2, Slayers, Saber Marionette, and.... like, Di Gi Charat and Chobits? This was probably right around the era of Azumanga Daioh, too.

Unfortunately, much past 2003 or 2004 is where I started falling off of anime. The feeling of it being “new” and “special” was starting to wear off, and there was enough coming out that the standard of quality was beginning to drop. Whereas small studios like ADV and Manga Corps. could only afford to bring out the best of the best, we were starting to get junk like Duel Masters, Rozen Maiden and Tenchi Muyo GXP.

I remember friends speaking highly of shows like Bleach (heh), .hack, Full Metal Panic, Midori Days, Tenjo Tenge, Yakitate Japan, Eureka Seven, and Air Gear, but I can’t tell you anything about them, personally.

Either way, I’m sure I’ve given you more than enough to chew on.

#questions #anime #toonami #scifi channel #syfy #4kids #kids wb #foxbox #saturday anime #Anonymous

[soundofseventeen]

Can You Sit By My Side? (Wen Junhui)

Hi! I hope everyone’s okay! Please remember to help support the black community during these times and help them use their voices! Our requests are still open, but please be sure to read the conditions before requesting! (if you have no money, click here to stream this! The longer you go, the more it’ll donate!) This will be the last non requested fic I write! Lastly, happy birthday Jun!!!

Inspo: Can You Sit By My Side

Word count: 7616

Pregnancy stage: third trimester

You grunted with the effort of taking the plates down from its spot. Sure, now they chose to disappear when each of them have stuck to your side in hopes you’d ask for help. “See? You’re already making things hard for me.” You placed your hand over your tummy and sure enough, the princess kicked in response and you laughed. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” She moved around again, loving the sound of your voice. “Why don’t you move when you hear your uncles? Guys! She’s moving.” 

It never ceased to surprise you that Jihoon was usually the first to arrive, despite swearing that he didn’t even like kids. “Is my favorite niece up from her nap already?” He frowned when he saw that she wasn’t moving. “Oh come on, are you really doing this right now?”

You took his hand and guided to where her feet currently were, placing pressure on it, and when she kicked, he jumped up in response. “I can’t tell if she likes you or just likes making your life hard. But at least she knows who you are. I can never get her to move for Mingyu.”

“That’s because no one likes Mingyu...or Seungkwan for that matter.”

“I wanna feel her kick next!” Jeonghan came into the kitchen, almost knocking the plates from your hand. “She never does it for me unless I’m singing and that’s not fair.”

You rolled your eyes but you knew he had a point. Your unborn child already had good taste in voices but she was a devious one, mostly moving around when she heard anyone singing, and it had to be a raw performance. None of that studio version mumbo jumbo. “Is the pizza here yet? I’m starving.”

“Almost and Jun is also on his way back from the Mexican place with that torta you wanted.” he shook his head. “I’ll never understand a woman’s cravings.”

“You’re just mad because you ended up with the morning sickness. And so did Seungcheol….Chan too.”

“The cravings are weird,” Joshua piped in, coming in with the jar of peanut butter in his hands. “I can’t stop eating this and I’m breaking out so bad. You better name her after me once you give birth, or at least buy me some good facial products.” He asked to touch your stomach with his eyes and you nodded, shooting Jeonghan a small smirk when you felt her kick. “Aww, princess, you’re gonna be the most beautiful of all.”

Mingyu showed up next, water still dripping from hair from being in the pool, but still drying up, and he seemed to be the only one who noticed you still needed to bring the stuff outside. He wordlessly took the plates from your hand and grabbed some plastic bags that were on the table and headed back out. He liked to think he got the worst end of the stick with his hormones being out of whack and being a little more emotional about things. He was the only one who cried when you  announced your pregnancy and when he found out you were having a girl. But that also meant he took it a little personally when she kicked him once and then never again. 

“Mingyu, you're my favorite!” You yelled out to him and she moved around, possibly in agreement. “You’re the biggest little shit I know, do you know that?” Once you ushered everyone outside, you found the rest of the boys, either diving into the pool to stay cool or setting up the table. You noticed that Jun had come home and was playing the piano like no one was around. (Oh Jun, the one thing he wanted was a piano in the backyard when you bought the house and you didn’t know why, but you weren’t complaining.) 

The tune was more than familiar and you weren’t the only one who recognized it because little Wen Meihui started moving like crazy, so you sighed, going to sit next to your husband as he played it happily. You made a face at Jihoon sampling everything that had been laid out on the table and shook your head. (Jihoon had shown the first sign of your pregnancy but no one had given it a second thought at the time, since he was a self-proclaimed foodie, but then when Hao started showing the same symptoms, you had grown a little suspicious.)

Jun didn’t stop playing even as you sat down, but he looked up and smiled at you but even then you knew he wasn’t singing it just for you. He picked up the habit of toying with the instrument when he realized he was gonna be a father, but out of nervousness. And once the little princess had grown into a baby who could hear, she started moving around every time Junhui sat down at the keys. Her favorite seemed to be “Can You Sit By My Side?” and from there, he easily became the favorite parent, which Jun would so rub it in your face in the future. And he fell in love with knowing she recognized him by his voice, often telling her about his day and putting his hands over your belly as he built his connection with her.

When he wasn’t terrified of becoming a parent, that is. With Wonwoo’s (another one with cravings...and spicy foods at that) help, they found beginner books on how to become a good father and how to be patient with you. He and Jihoon turned his home office into a nursery, complete with a Winnie the Pooh theme and baby proofed the place. Seungcheol provided the labor and drove you to your appointments and the boys just turned your house (and their dorms) upside down with clothes and toys and baby food and everything she may have needed.

You rested your head on Junhui’s shoulder, closing your eyes and breathing deeply, trying not to wince from the parade currently happening inside of you. You smiled nonetheless, overjoyed at the reception and Junhui slowly came to a stop, still in his own little paradise.

“Can I protect you by your side?” he whispered, placing a soft kiss to your nose and touching your stomach tenderly with both hands before he pressed another kiss there.

*

Newborn days:

“Jun, come on I need to feed her before I make dinner.”

“But I haven’t held Meihui in forever,” he pouted, cradling her close to his chest. “What if I have to go on tour tomorrow and can’t see her until the end of the year?” He wedged his finger between one of her hands, cooing gently.

“Jun, paternity leave is the reason why you won’t be seeing your band mates for a while. Come on you big baby.”

“Baobei, didn’t you pump? I can feed her.” He looked up at you, looking very unsure and very nervous. “Can I just hold her for a few more minutes? I-I don’t wanna let her go yet.” 

You kissed his unkempt hair, a little jealous that even though he’s been running on the same hours of sleep as you have, he looked like he was in much better shape. “Okay.”

“Can you sit by my side for a little while? I feel like I haven’t been close to you.”

“Okay.” You complied, snuggling close to his arm, hearing him recite the lyrics only loud enough for her to hear. You adjusted the little hat on Meihui’s head so she wouldn’t be cold.

“Can you believe we made someone this beautiful?” It was his turn to kiss your unbrushed hair. “What do you think she’s gonna be like?” Meihui made a small whimpering noise and Jun shushed her gently, rocking her in small motions, feeling a little smug that he was able to calm her down.

“It’s still too early to tell, but if she’s anything like you, we may have our work cut out for us.”

“But if she’s anything like you, we may have to call in our reinforcements.” He stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke again. “Did you really mean it when you said you wanted her to learn Korean?”

“Yes. Wouldn’t it be kinda fucked up to not to give your friends the chance to love her too?”

“I mean, they can always learn Chinese...it’s not that hard.” Another kiss to Meihui. “Our princess is gonna be the smartest human in the world...and the kindest.” This time the kiss was directed at you. “Thank you for giving me the best gift ever.”

You thought back to the dang piano (not the one outside but the one at Pledis...the one that still resided in Universe Factory), the reason you had gotten pregnant in the first place, and every moment that came after until right now. You would’ve done it all over again….just not anytime soon. 

“You know I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. You know that right?”

“Wen Junhui...you told me that on our third date, when you proposed and every time it seemed like a good idea. Trust me, I know.” 

He cleared his throat. “Baobei, you know you’re the queen of my universe and I would steal all the stars in the sky for you, but I’m talking to Mei.”

Of course he was.

*

Six months old: 

“Alright my little princess, today it’s just you and me. Do you like that?” As if she understood him, Meihui smiled at him, squealing at the idea. “Yay!” he clapped his hands, and she mimicked his movements. “I knew you would.” 

After changing her diaper, he brought her downstairs, along with the swing she’d be in while he made breakfast. It wasn’t everyday he had a father/daughter day but after begging Soonyoung’s fiancee to take you out looking for a wedding dress, you agreed to it and asked Junhui if he would like to spend a day with her. (He was a little curious to see how that future would turn out. They’d both met the American tourist years back when she had been leaving the hair salon to keep her red hair intact.) 

So far, it’s been perfect. Like himself, Meihui was a late riser so he didn’t need to worry about losing much sleep, so he managed to make the bed he heard her making noise so naturally it was time to start the day. He sighed to himself, forgetting that she needed to eat too, so he placed the swing on the side of one of the walls and brought out the high chair instead. “Okay what sounds good for breakfast? I think pancakes for me, but how about you?” 

He placed her on the chair and handed her a spoon which she banged on the table to her heart’s content while he rummaged the cabinets for something for her. “I found some apple juice!” He shook one of the bottles eagerly. “Yes or no?” He poured it into one of her bottles and she picked it up after some difficulty. (A proud parent moment right there.) “Now food! It’s too early for chicken, I think you finished the peas last night...aha! Rice cereal so you can have breakfast with me!”

She drank her juice while he made his pancakes and poured himself a cup of coffee and talked to her as if she was more grown. “Now for the best part,” he rubbed his hands together while he  picked up the remote, “what to watch! I’m thinking Mickey Mouse. You?” She didn't give him an expression, so he tried again. “I would say PJ Masks but they scared you last time. Winnie the Pooh?”

“EEEEE!” 

“I thought so.” He mixed her cereal together and tapped her shoulder. “Can I sit by your side?”

He stared at her while she made more of a mess than actually eating her food, but he was endeared nonetheless. Her eyes, he noted, came out more like yours, but she had inherited his hair, both in color and type, and the freckle above her lip had become more prominent. She was perfect just the way she was.

*

Ten months old:

Jun would’ve given anything to have been able to bring you both on tour, but he knew there would have been so many new adjustments that would’ve been made and he wasn’t too keen on the idea of people laying eyes on his princess just yet. He shared whatever he could, but it was a big step to actually bring her into the public eye. Add him most likely not going up onstage just to spend time with her into the mix and the results wouldn’t be good. Plus he was a little jealous of the vocalists who could coax her into their arms. (If they wanted a child, they could go and do it themselves, thank you.) Every moment he would call you, they would all bunch around his laptop and fight for her attention. (Seungkwan and Seokmin had the upper hand here.) But it was finally over.

You had waited pretty patiently at the Incheon Airport, even with a fussy infant who missed her father. You had managed to get her to go down for a nap while you passed the time reading articles on soothing her sore gums. (Teething...probably the worst thing about having a baby.) And then when she woke up, it took everything in you to get her stop crying. She didn’t stop when you took her out of the carrier and bounced her, nor when you pointed at random things to distract her. The diaper wasn’t an issue….and she wasn’t gassy. You could hear the annoyed travelers whispering and giving you dirty looks, but you ignored them. You finally pulled out your phone and went to the gallery….a last resort for things like this.

A daddy’s girl through and through, Mei immediately stopped her wailing at seeing Junhui on the screen, on that piano playing her favorite song. You could almost swear that he had written it just for her even now, because it always calmed her down and Jun had taken it upon himself to record himself and send it to you for emergencies and it had come in handy multiple times already. Meihui clapped once (the newest thing she learned how to do) and reached for the phone and ultimately putting it in her mouth.

“Princess, we don’t eat that. I need that for things.” Which resulted in mindless babble. “You know, the insurance doesn’t cover baby drool, so if you mess it up, I have to buy a new one, right?” She looked up at you and gave you a gummy smile, unfazed. “If something happens to this, we’re stuck here.” She pulled the phone out of her mouth long enough to squeal at Jun and then squirm in your arms. Your mother-in-law had been quick to confirm that Jun couldn’t stay still and was always making noise….so yep, another point for Junhui. “Okay, fine if it keeps you happy.” You were happy that she had been born in the early fall because she could enjoy the nice clothes right now. 

A few arrivals later, the boys emerged, looking jet lagged but still scoping their surroundings and when they found you, they raced towards you (your child), in hopes of getting there first. Mingyu beat everyone, taking the child out of your arms before you could even say hi. “There’s the most beautiful girl in the world!” He pulled a lollipop out of his pocket and after taking the wrapper off, gave it to her. A lot of them, while waiting their turn, enveloped you in a hug and caught you up with the latest tour stories. Junhui finally showed up, helping a hobbling Minghao.

Once he got the younger boy into a seat, he ran to you, throwing every emotion he felt into the hug, and not minding the PDA he displayed showering you with kisses, one for every time he missed you and one for every time he woke up without you on the other side of the bed. “Hi,” he finally said.

“Hi,” you breathed, not wanting to let him go yet. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He kept you in his arms a little longer until he remembered he had a daughter that he missed dearly. He pulled away, but kept one arm firmly around you, just in case he still felt like he was dreaming. He looked around, finally finding his precious baby in Mingyu’s arms. Meihui had apparently found it funny to be licking her lollipop and then sticking it on Mingyu’s face and repeating the process whenever the lollipop would start unsticking. 

“Your hair is as quiet as the dark night…” he began quietly, “making me think of you from night ‘til dawn.” As predicted she looked around for the familiar voice as Junhui continued the tune of his song, not making any more obvious movements he was around her. He bonked his head on yours slowly, enjoying Mingyu spinning around in circles every time she almost spotted him. “If you listen to this song word by word,” he took baby steps towards her, making sure he still had a hold on you, “line by line, can you sit by my side?” Mei finally seemed to outsmart Mingyu, but she managed to turn her head before he could spin and her eyes landed on Jun.

And she cried for him, reaching for him.

*

One year old:

“Junhui, is all this necessary?” You swatted the balloons out of your face, shaking your head at his decorations. Your backyard had turned into a jungle of colors and different shapes and you had to keep yourself calm from the way you noticed an inflatable water slide hovering dangerously close to the swimming pool and you just hoped that none of your husband’s best friends would be dumb enough to use it as a makeshift waterslide.

“Oh its absolutely necessary Baobei,” he argued, keeping a firm grip around Mei hands while she walked. (She had learned to stand not too long ago and once she learned to walk on her own, it’d be game over.) “She only turns one once!” 

“I know, but couldn’t we have taken her to the park or the aquarium or something? It doesn’t need to be a big thing for her.”

“Ah-mah,” Mei called out to you. “Ah-mah.”

“Wow, that’s my big girl,” you cooed. “You’re almost there.” It took so much of your energy to squat but you managed. “Come here.”

“No. Ah-pah.” She struggled to stay in place even when Junhui directed her movements towards you. “No. Ah-pah,” she whimpered.

“She has spoken,” he said smugly. 

“You know, I’m offended right now, but when she’s a moody teenager, I won’t be.” You stood up, walked over to him, pressed a kiss to his cheek and went inside. “The pizza’s almost ready, father of the year.”

“Is there a Chicago style one for Seokmin? I swear he goes on his honeymoon with his wife and spends the entire time in Chicago and now he’s actually thinking of moving there just because she’s from the Midwest.”

“Wen Junhui, do you know you’re whipped for your bandmates?” Yes, you made a special one just for him, because you knew it’d be breaking some kind of promise. “That was the last one that went in.” You squinted at the toddler. “Tell me you’re not gonna give me a hard time today. Your father may be past the wild bachelor parties, but he still knows how to throw them. Should I be surprised if you get a chocolate fountain for this?”

His mouth dropped open. “Did you get the bank statement already?”

You exhaled, unsure why you were even surprised. “Did you get a petting zoo too?”

“I’m thinking of waiting for her fourth birthday, don’t you think...I’ll have you know that I couldn’t find one available for today.”

“Wen Junhui….”

“Wen Y/N, I want you to know that I would’ve done so much for you, but you would’ve yelled at me. I actually had to wait to get a ring on your finger just so I can do this for her.”

“Jun, we got married ages before I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, but now I have an excuse to go all out.” He let go of Mei’s hands and carried her, so he could use his hand to entwine them with one of yours. “Don’t worry my love, I just want her to have the best day of her life. I will try to tone it down from now on.” He rubbed his thumb on your knuckles.

“Next time, just tell me you wanna plan something so elaborate so I can tell you no. We’re the only ones who have a kid right now so it wasn’t necessary.” 

“Oh no, the water slide is for us, and the fountain is for you, because you wanted one.” He placed a kiss on your temple. “How much longer until DK’s pizza is ready.”

“It’ll be awhile. Why?”

“Can you sit by my side, so we can enjoy this little family time for a bit? After all, a year ago, you gave me one of the best things in life.” He guided you to the gazebo to enjoy the warm sun and maybe a little bit of alcohol to relax the tension in your muscles. Junhui sat Mei on his lap and she fell back on him, her eyes closing. “I guess she might be taking a nap.” he wrapped his arm around you and brought you close to him. “So it’s just you and me.” He puckered his lips to kiss you.

“HEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.” Someone yelled from the front yard.

“And whoever decided to show up early.” You stood up, pulled him with you and gave him a quick peck. “Alright dad of the year. Entertain our guests.”

*

Two years old

“It’s here!” Jun screamed coming in as his way of greeting one night.

You looked up at him, trying not to look afraid. The Halloween season brought out the scariest movies and even though you had grown up, it was still foolish of you to binge watch something. “What’d you get now?” You placed your hand over your heart, the racing had gone down slightly but not enough.

“It’s a surprise.” He dropped a kiss on your forehead and headed straight for the kitchen. “How was work?”

“Day off, remember?” You picked up the book that had fallen on your lap when he burst in. “Shh, I just put Meihui down for bed. I think she might be getting over a fever. She didn’t eat much tonight.”

“You know she doesn’t like carrots, right?”

You weren’t sure if the irony was humorous or horrible but you didn’t say anything. “I know; I made her soup. The chicken is for you.” You heard the footsteps going upstairs. “Hey get down here. If you wake her up, you’re putting her back to sleep.” That and you didn’t wanna be alone. “Junhui!” You shook your head. He acted as if he wasn’t going to have an entire morning with her the next day.

“Baobei,” he popped up next to you, and while you did fall off the couch in surprise (and fear), it took everything in you not to scream. “Have you-I’m sorry!”

“Help me up.” That did it; no more scary movies unless you had someone with you. “What’d you need?” It was funny but you still shot him a small glare which still took him a while to compose himself.

“Have you made any plans for Halloween?” He asked sitting next to you.

“No...why?” You hoped he didn’t rope you into something that required you to leave the house.

“Chan is having a party to celebrate his new promotion and he said we should go!”

“Can I think about it?”

“But I’ve already got the costumes,” he pouted. “Please! We’re gonna look so cute together.” 

“You mean, you and Mei are gonna look cute.”

“All three of us!” He heard slight coughing and he turned around to see the love of his life looking dazed and tired, holding the stuffed penguin Cheol had given her. “Hi Princess! Why are you up so late?”

“M-my throat,” she whimpered. “I sit...your side?”

“Okay Princess. Look, do you wanna see your Halloween costume?” He patted his lap and picked her up so she could rest comfortably.

“Scary?” she asked.

“No. It’s cute, like you.” He pressed a kiss to her to her head and then tapped your nose. “Baobei, do you have the scissors? Can you grab them please? And the box in our room? Father duties, you see.”

You shook your head but if it meant he got to take care of her, you would’ve fixed the broken window in the attic. Going into the closet scared you a little at the moment but you weren’t so afraid anymore. But you may have run back downstairs just in case something was waiting for you if you let your guard down. (That’s how it always happened in the movies.) 

Junhui was stroking Mei’s hair when you got back and showing pictures of who knows what and he met your gaze with the biggest grin you’ve only whenever he was plotting something. “Which one are you opening first?”

“The one on the couch. I think you’re gonna like it.” He kissed Mei’s cheek, not minding that she was close to falling back asleep, but he could feel that she wasn’t as warm as before.

“Pajamas? You’re making a big deal out of her costume when it’s just sleepwear?”

“Open mine next! It’ll make more sense.” You ignored his oddly gleeful expression and he made a noise when you pulled out his. “Get it Baobei? Because he saves her even though he scared her!”

Well it definitely explained why he wanted to perfect Meihui’s pigtails and that meant that the box by his feet was yours, and you could only hope he wasn’t a little shit about it. “What am I?”

“Besides my beautiful wife, my everlasting soulmate, and the mother of all my kids?” He waggled his eyebrows at you. “You’re just gonna have to open it yourself.” He kicked it over to you, and it concerned you at how light it was.

You glided the scissors overs over the tape and when you saw the green inflatable, you let out a deep gust of air, not sure whether to be annoyed or amused. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You smacked his shoulder. “Wen Junhui, I hate you.” And then you started cracking up because he was a dumb genius.

“We look good though. I’ve even been showing Meihui how to be Boo.”

“Okay but why do I have to be Mike Wazowski and you get to be Sully?”

“I mean, you could’ve been Randall because she’s scared of you.”

“Wen Junui!” You shook your head, loving the effect of feeling drunk on life he currently gave you. “Why are you so salty?”

*

Three years old

“Grandma!” Meihui jumped out of Jun’s arms and ran to her legs, squealing in delight.

“How’s my favorite princess?” She bent to her level and whispered something in her ear and stepped aside, Meihui calling out to her grandpa. She cradled Jun’s face and placed a kiss to his cheek and did the same to you. “How was Disney?”

“Exhausting. I think we’re happy to be here with you guys,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I have never seen anyone get so excited over Cinderella the way she did.” 

“I haven’t been to Disneyland in years!” you exclaimed in the midst of finding your present for the in laws. “And she’s my favorite princess! You’re just jealous because I couldn’t marry Prince Charming.” You pulled out a snow globe to add to her ever growing collection. “For you.”

“Thank you, my child. Come in. I just started making tea. Are you hungry? There might be rice in the fridge.”

“See, Baobei? We didn’t stop along the way so my mom would’ve been able to feed us and now I have to tell her no.” He glanced apologetically at her. “You have such a thoughtless daughter in law, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“Why do you still give the poor girl such a hard time?” she scolded him.

“Mom, he’s just jealous because I’m your favorite.” You removed your shoes. “Thank you for letting us spend the night. It’s gonna be a long flight back to Korea and I appreciate it. Is there anything  I can help you with since your son will pass out in about five minutes?”

“I’m tired,” he pouted. “Let me go say hi to dad first and then I can tell him how you’re both so mean to me.”

“How do you put up with him?” she shook her head.

“A box of apple juice and crackers.” And no, you weren’t kidding. The older Meihui got, the younger Jun seemed to feel. He now deemed chocolate milk too sweet but if Mei was drinking it, so was he; he liked his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut into triangles just like her. “But, if he’s happy I’m happy.” 

“You guys always look happier every time I see you.” She poured two cups of tea and placed them on the table, motioning for you to sit down. “I knew you were a keeper from the moment I met you. But you know that. Tell me, how is everything? Everyone?’

You dove into the events in your life back home, stemming from Vernon finally settling down with someone and dropping hints about Wonwoo’s new book coming out soon to you quitting your job and so you could spend more time with Mei who was feeling jealous now that Jeonghan had become a father to twins and had to get used to sharing the spotlight. Jun and his dad entered the room to grab drinks and Mei skipped behind them chatting their ears off about the fireworks and asking her grandpa to carry her.  Anyone that Junhui loved more than life was her favorite person in the world, and who better than that than the man who stepped in and raised Junhui as his own?

“It’s funny...Mei looks so much like you but she acts so much like Jun. It’s a funny thing.”

“Jun spends so much time with her. He takes her to work every Wednesday and Saturday, and on his days off he takes her, I don’t know where. And to think he was scared of being a father.” The nights he’d be pacing and religiously finding all the parenting sites to help him. It all seemed like a long time ago, especially when he liked to hog her now. You placed your hands over your mother in law’s. “You have the most incredible son; I hope you know that.”

She squeezed your hands. “He has the most incredible wife.”

The late afternoon progressed into dusk, with everyone eating dinner in the backyard to enjoy the breeze and the dusk brought drinks and dessert to the night until Mei was too tired to stay up, falling asleep on Junhui and you bringing out your sweater to keep her warm. Everyone called it quits a little after midnight after a card game since the day would bring traveling back home. 

“Don’t be strangers,” your father in law warned you while you waited for your flight to be called. “I want to see you all in our home more often.”

“Can I stay with them Mommy?” Meihui asked, tugging on your hand. “Please?”

“You can but then we won’t have time to pick you up.” You knelt to her level, wiping her face clean, getting rid of all the stickiness from the orange juice. “And we’ll miss you a lot.” You let go of her hand. “Now, go say ‘bye and tell them thank you.”

The tears in her eyes as she said her goodbyes hurt you more than it should’ve, but you weren’t gonna tell her you planned to spend her next birthday and Christmas with them or that they’d be visiting you in a few weeks for Jun’s birthday. It hurt you too though, but you couldn’t say anything. They waited until you cleared airport security for them to leave and even then you cried. But at least, you could go home, unpack and resume your everyday-ish life. But first the boarding.

“Baobei, window or aisle?” Jun asked you and you shrugged. “Princess, do you want to sit in the middle?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Are you scared?” He picked her up, and let you take the window seat. He felt the need to give you a kiss on your cheek which flustered you. “Because I am. And I need someone to hold my hand. Can you sit by my side?”

She nodded at that. “Okay. Daddy? Can you sing that song?”

*

Four years old

“Hey you.” Jun removed his glasses, annoyed at how the prescription made him dizzy. He really was getting old now. He loved the days when you slept in and then left for the day with one of the boys’ wives. It meant he could be somewhat productive and he tried but he had pulled a muscle trying to remember one of his martial arts moves. He currently was on the couch, an ice pack on his knee. “What’s up? Can you sit by my side?” He picked up little Mei who looked confused.

“Daddy, Uncle Joshua called Mommy a bad word the other day.”

“He did? Do you want me to beat him up?” He was surprised to say the least. He had always been kind to you, especially when his marriage fell through the cracks and he needed a shoulder to lean on when the divorce had been finalized.

“No, can you tell him not to call her that though? It’s mean.”

“What’d he call her?”

“Y/N. I’ve never heard anyone call her that.”

He almost snickered but the look on her face told him not to do it. “ Princess, what do you think your mommy’s name is?”

“Baobei. You always call her that.”

Okay, now he saw the misunderstanding. “Her name is Y/N but I call her Baobei.”

“Why?’

“We’ve been together for a long time, and I don’t like calling her Y/N.”

“Why? Is it ugly?”

He almost lost his shit there; he really did. “No. It’s just something I call her, even before you were born...and before we got married. I like calling her that.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s like me calling you princess. Your name is Meihui.”

“Why?”

“Because I told your mom if she didn’t give us matching names, I’d be sad.”

Her eyes widened at the realization, her mouth forming into an ‘o’, and forgetting she was so confused. “I’m like you Daddy!” She wrapped her arms around him and then pulled back. “Wait a minute. You and Mommy were together before I came here?”

“That’s right.” 

“You didn’t want me a long time ago?”

Oh no. He wasn’t about to have this conversation with her. She was too young to know how she came into this world. He was gonna let you have this when she was older and he wasn’t around. Ah shit….if she was into boys, that’d be a hard thing to explain. No, he wasn’t thinking about the sex talk and how he’d have to explain it. “Of course we wanted you! We just couldn’t find you. We looked at all the doctor’s places and then one day, we did and we took you home.”

She nodded slowly. “Why?”

*

Five years old

“Are you ready for your first day of school, Princess?” Junhui bent to her level and adjusted the collar around her neck, keeping himself busy so he wouldn’t cry at leaving her behind.

She shook her head. “I don’t know nobody. I wanna go home.”

“We can pick you up after school, Mei, and it won’t be for a long day.” You looked around for a clock, relieved that it was an analog clock so you could explain it to her. You pointed at it. “When the hands are all the way up, you can come home and we’ll be out here waiting.”

“You don’t love me anymore?”

You never did understand how kids always thought that you leaving them alone for a couple hours meant you didn’t love them anymore. But that was also partially her fault. No one told her to run to the toy section when you were getting groceries and she had lost you. Of course, Junhui looked just as offended when you recounted the story. “Of course we do. We just want you to learn. The smarter you are, the more you-” you trailed off, not sure how to finish it. She already knew her colors and could count to 10...in the three languages she knew. 

And eventually, if she wanted to, she could learn more. She needed Chinese to speak with her dad, Korean with her uncles and English because Joshua and Seungkwan insisted she’d get more opportunities in the long run. But you didn’t wanna burn her out and lose any interest she had in learning them. But right now, a private school away from the spotlight and media would do in helping her concentrate. 

“Daddy, can you sit by my side? I’m scared.”

“I wish I could, Princess, but you have to stay here and I need to talk to your uncle Jihoon about something. I’ll be here after school though, okay? And then we can go see some of your uncles, okay?”

“Can we see Uncle Hao? I miss him.”

“Only if you promise you can do this like a big girl.”

“I promise.”

*

Six years old

You looked suspiciously at the father and daughter, both covered in mud and blocking the door to go outside. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” they said simultaneously and beamed at you. They looked at each other, some sort of conversation between them, then back at you.

“How was work, Baobei?” He spoke first, wrapping his hand around your arm in an attempt to distract you . “Did you like it?”

“It was fine. What did you two do today?” When you had gotten home from your first job back in a couple of years, it had been strangely silent, the house in perfect shape. These days, Jun was scrubbing crayon off of the wall, or removing a carpet stain. But today, they rushed indoors dirty from head to toe and you had half a mind to tell them they’d be washing and drying off outside.

“We had ice cream!” Meihui spoke. After I did my homework, daddy said I did a good job and we went out!”

“Mm-hmm, and why are you dirty?’ You heard a thump at the door and then muffled barking. You turned to Junhui who had his hands up in surrender. “I can explain Baobei.” He opened the door slowly and in trodded a Shiba Inu as dirty as the culprits. It took one look at you and growled slightly.

“Wen Jun...hui,” you pinched your nose, at a loss for words. Even after so many years with him, he had always managed to surprise you. “Why?”

“We didn’t mean to. Honest. We really were just getting ice cream and then this little guy followed us outta nowhere. He looked like a stray and nobody was calling out for him, and Mei asked if we could keep him.”

“So you told her yes.” Naturally. He really didn’t know how to put his foot down when it came to her. 

“Baobei, look at her. She did that thing with her eyes that you do when you want something. Can you blame me?” 

No, you couldn’t but you weren’t telling him that. You knew the exact expression he was talking about because you used it one too many times on him and still use it. Then again, Junhui really couldn’t tell you no. You’ve tried that too. You really had queen of his heart titled somewhere. “Yes. It’s not that hard, watch. Mei, go get in the shower and get ready for dinner. And stay away from the chocolate chip cookies. They’re for dessert.”

“Just one Mom?” As expected, she gazed up at you. Those cookies you had realized, were her biggest weakness and would make every excuse possible to get her hands on one. “I promise I’ll eat my food.”

“No.” She turned her attention to the other person who wouldn’t deny her anything, but you beat her to it. “Don’t think about it child. He’s with me on this. And he’s also in trouble for the dog. So, upstairs, now.”

“Daddy, can you sit by my side at dinner tonight? And play that song before bedtime?” She batted her eyelashes. “I miss it.”

Yes, Princess. Shower first and then dinner. I heard it’s your favorite tonight.”

“Mom-om, there aren’t any monsters in there, right?”

“No, I had your Uncle Hoshi come and scare them away.” Children. She was somehow convinced Soonyoung was the loudest person alive and therefore, the only one who could get rid of monsters, the boogeyman and anyone who made her so much as flinch. “Please go shower.” once she was out of sight, you faced him smugly. “See? Not that hard.”

“But Baobei, I don’t wanna see her sad.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Wen Junhui,” you sighed, stepping forward and after debating the risk of getting muddy, you kissed him a couple of times, and shivered at the coldness.

“Why do you say that?” he asked between kisses.

“Meihui wanted a cat, but you know I have a weakness for these pups.” Said pup had somehow fallen asleep in the family drama and would be out a little longer. “Go shower too. I’m not letting you into our bed like that.” Or maybe you could stay a little while like this. You missed moments like this when you could forget you were a parent and you felt no responsibilities other than to mold yourself to your husband’s form.

“EWWWWWWW.”

Or not.

*

Age seven

“Are you gonna tell me, or do we have to play a guessing game?”Junhui peered over his banana split to gaze at the daughter who had been anything but smiley lately. Between his voice actor role and once again fretting the duties of a second time dad, he hadn’t time to do much else besides tuck her in at night and read a bedtime story or two. 

“I miss Cla-i-fonia,” she sighed. “Uncle Joshua took me to the beach and the movies and a lot of places with his new lady friend.” She mushed the Neapolitan together until it became an ugly color.

“Guessing game it is...are you sad you’re getting a little brother?” She looked at him grudgingly but nodded. “Why?”

“What if you love him more than me?” She sniffled, surprised at herself. “You didn’t even ask me if I wanted a brother. You just told me we were getting one.”

“Okay Princess, can you sit by my side for a moment please?” She reluctantly slid off from her spot in the booth and sat next to him. He cupped both of Mei’s cheeks with his hands. “You are my one and only, okay? You were here first, and no one’s gonna take that from you. I’m still deciding what I’m gonna call him, but you...you’re always gonna be my princess.”

“Okay Daddy.”

“Now what’s the other thing bothering you? You still don’t look too happy.”

“Are you gonna be mad?”

“At you? I don’t think so. Is it bad?”

“Well, no, but I think I might hurt Mom’s feelings.”

“Is this about your brother?”

“No. Me.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “How come I don’t have eyes like yours? My eyes look big and circle-y like Mom’s and uncle Vernon’s. They aren’t like yours or my uncles or the kids at my school.”

“Has someone been making fun of you?”

She shook her head. “No, but when you were making me at the hospital...why didn’t you give me your eyes? Why Mom’s?”

Oh he hated genetics...and how this conversation could end. He had to think carefully because seven year olds played with toys and threw tantrums over not getting a candy bar. They didn’t ask questions like this. At least not this seriously. “I wish I could say that they ran out of my eyes when that happened, but I told Mom that I wanted her eyes for you because they’re the most beautiful ones I’ve seen. And they are my favorite.”

“Is that why you love me so much?”

Junhui cut off a piece of banana and fed it to Mei. “I love you because Mom and I made someone who turned out to be everything we wanted and more. It was scary not being a dad at first, but now, I can’t remember why we went so long without you.”

She nodded. “Okay, but Daddy, don’t give my brother your eyes. Or sing him my favorite song.”

“That song is just for you, and only you.” But also you. Meihui didn’t have to know it was why she was conceived, but that could be the family secret. “Are you feeling better now?”

“A lot. Can we go home now?” She finally smiled, revealing a couple of her missing teeth. She wrapped her arms around him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He waited until Meihui let go and grabbed her hand. “Your hair is as quiet as the dark night…”

#seventeen fic #kpop seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen jun #seventeen x reader #seventeen x oc #seventeen x you #seventeen creations #jun scenarios #jun imagines #jun imagine #jun oneshot #jun seventeen #jun fluff #jun fanfic #jun fic #jun x reader #junhui fanfic #junhui scenarios #junhui x reader #junhui fluff #junhui imagines #junhui imagine #junhui oneshot #junhui scenario

[lettheladylead]

avoid the unhappy ending (ch8)

ships/characters: Goldie, Fergus, Downy, Fethry, Gladstone, Scrooge/Goldie words (ch8): ~1600 summary: Goldie comes to town to see Scrooge. Instead, she somehow manages to run into literally everyone else. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108943/

[1 & 2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Chapter 8 under the cut:

Sneaking over to Scrooge’s study wasn’t an issue. Goldie didn’t hear the sounds of Beakley or any kids moving around, didn’t see Duckworth’s ghost - finally she would just find Scrooge and talk to him for a bit and then leave.

Almost to the study door, Goldie frowned. Maybe she should hang around for a little longer than a bit after all the trouble she’d gone through to find him. But after spending so much time with the family already, just the idea of staying longer felt overwhelming. This was just supposed to be a quick visit, not some celebratory weekend vacation. There was no anniversary, no birthday, she just wanted to say hi.

She took a deep breath and opened the door, smiling brightly in preparation.

And...empty.

Goldie didn’t even bother to look around and check. This was just what she should’ve expected. She walked forward and sat in Scrooge’s desk chair, putting her feet up.

“Scroogey, Scroogey, Scroogey,” Goldie said in a sing-song tone. “Where could you be…”

She looked over the desk, checking out the headers of every paper. Eventually her eyes landed on a calendar, and Goldie excitedly sat up straight and grabbed it, using her pointer finger to find her way to the current date.

Nothing. It was blank. Looks like he had a free Saturday to do whatever he wanted. In this case: running around and avoiding his ex-everything. Or whatever he was calling her these days.

She sighed loudly and plopped her head down on the desk. Why was this so difficult? Was she having a bad day or was she just bad at this suddenly? She rotated her head so her cheek was shoved against the grain, beak tapping on the wood as she considered what to do next. There were so many rooms in this house, and knowing Scrooge...he probably didn’t waste any of them. He had reason to be in literally any room at any time. He could be looking for her by this point. Maybe she should listen to the hummingbird kid and just text him after all.

Goldie grabbed her cell phone out of her pocket and turned on the screen, taking a moment to enjoy her background. It was an old photo of Scrooge she’d taken when he was asleep and he looked particularly cute. He didn’t know about it and probably wouldn’t like the angle, but she could practically hear him snoring when she looked at it long enough.

She had a missed call and two texts she didn’t feel like responding to. What was the point of being on an adventure if she had responsibilities somewhere else?

Just as her thumb slid over to click on her messages, a phone started to ring.

Goldie jumped, not expecting the sound, and quickly scanned the room for the source. Scrooge had a shelf lined with different phones, all labeled, and one of them was ringing loudly.

After the fourth ring with no one coming to answer it, Goldie bit the inside of her cheek and exhaled. She stood up and walked over to the phones, staring at the one that wouldn’t stop ringing.

“Dismal Downs…?” Goldie said softly, trying to remember where she’d heard that name before. It sounded Scottish, for sure. Was it somewhere in Glasgow?

Despite all the traveling she’d done over the years, Goldie had never been to Glasgow. Going there without Scrooge’s invitation felt...wrong. Unlike breaking into his American home, which felt very very right.

Hesitantly, Goldie picked up the phone and held it up to her ear.

“...hello?”

“What?” the voice at the other end said in a thick, barely understandable accent. “Who’s this? The maid?”

“Not even close. Who’s this?”

“This is Fergus McDuck! Where’s Scrooge? His mother’s been waitin’ for him to call and the phone hasnae rang once!”

Goldie smiled. Now she remembered the name Dismal Downs. That’s where Scrooge’s magic immortal castle was keeping his family alive.

“Scrooge isn’t here, but I’ll be sure to let him know his Dear Ol’ Daddy’s upset,” she said smugly, imitating his accent.

The voice on the other end paused. “You’ve got quite the mouth on ya. Who is this?”

She considered, briefly, hanging up and not saying anything. But this was kind of fun. “The name’s Goldie.”

“Ach? Goldie? From Goldieburg?” He sounded genuinely confused.

“I’m sorry - Goldieburg?”

“Aye, Scrooge mentioned a Goldie back when he came to fix up the castle. Is that you?”

She felt an odd flutter thinking that he talked to his parents about her. What was that about? Just complaining? Especially back then...their relationship was still very new. He couldn’t have had many good things to say.

“Probably. I don’t think he knows any other Goldie.”

“Downy!”

“Yes, Fergus?” Goldie could hear a woman’s voice in the distance, similarly accented.

“Scrooge’s wee burd is on the phone!”

“Our Scroogey’s? Does she sound nice?”

“No, not in the least. Probably a good match for our son, then.”

“Oh, Fergus! Don’t be such a grump!”

Goldie wasn’t sure how to react to what she was hearing. They had the wrong idea, but also kind of not the wrong idea. It’s not like she needed to explain the whole situation to them. It’d probably confuse the old folks, or give them a very bad impression of their son.

“Let me talk to her!”

The mother of her long-time rival-slash-love-interest wanted to talk to her?

She hung up, grimacing. That started out funny, but quickly dissolved into too much. They were probably going to make a thousand assumptions that Scrooge would grill her about later. On the plus side, she was definitely going to ask about what the hell Goldieburg meant.

The phone started to ring again and Goldie bolted out of the room. The kids were still nowhere to be seen, it sounded like Beakley was back in the kitchen, and she didn’t feel the presence of any magic or ghosts.

It was time to continue checking the rooms one-by-one, then.

Goldie passed through the foyer, making her way to the other side of the mansion, when the front doorknob started to turn. She eyed the door suspiciously and waited to see who was about to enter. The front hallway wasn’t an ideal spot to greet Scrooge, but she’d take whatever she could get at this point.

The door swung open - it wasn’t locked? - and Goldie raised an eyebrow as she took in the image of the two ducks in front of her.

“I told you it’d be unlocked, Buddy!”

“Boy, Gladstone, when you’re right, you’re right!”

They looked up and made eye contact with Goldie. She stared back, unblinking, trying to figure out who in the world she’d just witnessed breaking into Scrooge’s mansion without breaking a sweat - she was supposed to be the only one who could do that.

The duck in the back smiled and walked forward a few steps, clearly about to say something to Goldie when his eye caught something on the ground. “Hey! Twenty dollars!” He leaned down and grabbed it.

Goldie gaped. How the hell had she not noticed that money? And also… “Wait a second, are you...Gladstone?”

He looked up at her, looked her up and down, and then tapped his beak. “Last time I checked! And you... look vaguely familiar!”

The other duck came up behind him and looked over Goldie as well. “Gladstone...don’t you know who this is?”

“Not at all!” Gladstone said more enthusiastically than necessary.

“This is...Mrs. Beakley!”

“Ooohh -”

“No I am not. ” Goldie crossed her arms over her chest. “Goldie. O’Gilt? And you must be Fethry, then. You two have certainly grown. What are you doing here?”

“Goldie! That’s it!” Gladstone plopped a fist into his open hand for emphasis. “I remember you kidnapping me once!”

She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t a kidnapping. Just...kid-borrowing.”

“Oh, oh! I remember that, too!” Fethry clapped his hands together. “I remember crying very very much.”

“Yes, there was lots of annoying crying,” Goldie said. “But I needed some good luck that day.”

Gladstone shrugged again. “Well, no one else would be able to help with that! And I won so many free pizzas.”

“Donald was so mad he almost tore up my hat!” Fethry laughed for a few seconds, before suddenly stopping and staring out into nothing.

The other two stared at him, expecting him to say something else, but he stayed quiet.

“Right. So, speaking of Donald, where is he?” Gladstone pointed at Goldie. “We’re supposed to be meeting him for lunch!”

“Oh, really?” Goldie asked with a raised eyebrow. “Last time I saw him, he was gardening by the pool. Didn’t look like he had late lunch plans.” She looked up at a nearby clock. “Very late lunch plans.”

“I got lost!” Fethry said with a smile.

“And I didn’t really want to be here,” Gladstone added. “But we have a Della-related surprise to talk about, so!”

She sighed and pointed behind her towards the back of the house. “He’s that way. Just go.”

Gladstone frowned. “That’s a lot of walking.”

“I’ve got you, Gladdy!” Fethry reached over and picked up his cousin, slinging him over his shoulder. “To Donald!”

“To Donald!” Gladstone repeated, happily lounging.

Goldie watched them walk away and sighed. Alright. She was giving up. There was no one left to ask except one person who she knew was just a few steps away. So what was the point in putting it off any longer?

She slowly made her way to the kitchen.

#ducktales #scroldie #goldie o'gilt #fergus mcduck #downy mcduck #downy o'drake #gladstone gander #fethry duck #fic #fics #avoid the unhappy ending

[purplesurveys]

1131

survey by lilprincess

Approx. Time you began this survey: 6:46 on a Wednesday evening.

Describe your mood right now: Erm, a bit exhausted because I just ended a work shift; but content for the same reason. Right now I’m simply looking forward to dinner and crashing on the couch or my bed, wherever I feel like sleeping tonight.

Spell your first name without vowels: Rbn. Let’s just also remove y for this one.

Age you will be on your next birthday: 23.

Zodiac Sign: Taurus.

Do you believe what your horoscope says about your sign? I do not believe in astrology whatsoever.

What state/region do you live in? Somewhere in the Philippines somewhere close to Metro Manila.

Height: Like 5′1″ ish. I had a massive growth spurt in 4th grade that also ended in 4th grade, which will always be a funny story to tell people lmao. I went from being placed at the back of the class line to the front really quickly.

Do you smoke? Super occasionally. My last cigarette was like...all the way back in February last year. It was easier to hide the smell around my family before, but because my parents and siblings have mostly been staying at home in the last year it would be so easy to weed out the smell. I never feel like smoking anyway since I vape, so there’s been no reason to seek it out.

Do you drink? Yeah, sometimes socially and sometimes on my own if I wanna unwind and feel a lil buzz come through.

What's your ethnic background? Southeast Asian, specifically Filipino.

What's your religious background? Technically my ~background~ would be Catholic since I was born and baptized in that faith, but I’ve long let go of this. Excluding one very brief period in high school, religion was something I never held much belief and faith in, even if I've been taken to literally every Sunday mass for the last 23 years and even if I was enrolled in Catholic school from preschool to high school.

What's your natural hair color? Black.

What;s your natural eye color? Dark brown, almost black.

Do you have any bad habits you want to break? I do overtime work a lot but used to seldom file it on our company shift log sheet because I get shy that they must think I’m doing it just to be paid more, lol. I’m starting to file them every time I do OT though because fuck it, pay me.

Name a few of your positive habits. I like that I always find a way to meet deadlines. I like that I’m selfless, even though some would see it as a flaw. I’d rather do too much than say I never did anything at all.

Have you ever lived in a foreign country? No, the most I’ve done was travel to one for a week.

Did you vote in the Nov. 6 2012 presidential election? No because I am not American -___- The last election that took place before I was eligible was in 2010, and had I been able to vote then, I would’ve given mine to Gibo Teodoro, who I believe was the most qualified at the time.

Are you even eligible to vote? Yeah, I’ve been for the last 5 years. I’ve voted twice - once for the presidential elections back in 2016, and the next was for the senatorial elections in 2019.

Are you right handed or left handed? Right-handed.

When you write, is your penmanship usually neat or do you tend to scribble? It starts off neat for the most part, but it gradually gets messy and becomes more like a scribble if we’re talking about writing several essays in one sitting, which was usually the case in my exams in college.

Have you ever experienced an accident? (of any type): Sure, I’ve been in car accidents before. I’ve also been shocked once.

Do you have/want children? They would be nice to have, yeah. 

Are you environmentally conscious? For the most part, yeah. But there are some things that can’t be helped, like me driving. Unless the government does something about the shitty public transport system that we have and have had for decades, I refuse to take it.

What's your favorite mode of transportation? Like I said, my own car. If I’m traveling, by plane.

Do you prefer 80's - 90's music compared to today's music? Eh, not at all. I prefer music produced these days.

Are you more of an introvert (quiet/shy), or extrovert (social butterfly)? I’ve been more of an extrovert in the last few years but I will always be shy at first upon meeting new people, like that will never change. I warm up a lot quickly now, though.

What's your favorite emoticon? :)

Do you miss the good old days of hand-written letters? I caught the super super super last part of this era, so I didn’t even get to experience it. I know snail mail was still kind of a thing when I was a kid, but at the same time that was happening my mom was also already using email to keep in touch with my dad, so.

Nowadays, though, when I do write letters to loved ones, I will still prefer to make handwritten ones, especially for a significant other or best friend. I don’t think I’ve ever sent out a computerized long letter.

Do you enjoy receiving or giving more? Giving, but it’s nice to be treated too sometimes.

Are you good at keeping secrets? Sure.

Do you take or give advice more often? I don’t usually get into situations wherein I’d have to do either, but I think I’ve been asking for advice more, especially over the last few months.

Do you have your driver's license? “I got my driver’s license last week, just like we always talked about...” Haha this question made me sing a bit. Anyway, yeah, I got it shortly after I turned 18 since I needed to quickly learn before college started.

Would you rather be poor & happy or rich but miserable? Rich but miserable. Soz but I’d solve 4854983594857 of my problems if I never had to worry about money.

Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? Never.

Have you ever blocked someone on Facebook? Probably not blocked, but I’ve unfollowed some current Facebook friends and unfriended others entirely.

Do you think recreational marijuana should be nationally legalized? Idk much about the topic since it’s taboo enough where I live, but sure, I guess?I haven’t heard one bad word about the effects of marijuana.

Describe your perfect first date. I’ve never really had a first date, but I imagine an ideal one would be pretty lowkey, just a stroll around a nice city and maybe have fancyish dinner somewhere.

Have you ever been high? Nope.

Have you ever watched a NC-17 rated film? Sure. A good handful of Kubrick films pass for NC-17, right? I’d be surprised if they weren’t, lol. I’ve been scarred by some of them for sure.

If you ever become reincarnated as an animal, what would you want it to be? A dog.

Do you remember where you were/what you were doing on September 11, 2001? No; I was 2 years old. I did ask my parents where they were in those moments, and my mom understandably missed most of it since the entire thing unfolded in the late evening in the Philippines. The only thing she can recall was being insanely worried for my dad, who had just started to work in the US back then.

Do you ever wish you were of a different nationality/religion? Yeah, to a certain extent, just because the political and socioeconomic situation here is very messy and it doesn’t really give us the nicest reputation in front of the world. I’m proud of my Filipino culture and heritage though.

Are you more of a junk food addict or health nut? Health nut is the last thing anyone should be calling me. But I’m not so much a junk food addict either? I do like spoiling myself with food, but I still monitor my intake.

Do you believe Antarctica should be considered the 7th world continent? Isn’t it already though?? We’ve always been taught there were 7 continents and Antarctica is one of them lol.

Describe your own sense of humor in 1 word: Gen-Z, if that counts as one word.

Have you ever quoted the Bible (or any other Holy Book)? If I ever did it was probably meant to be sarcasm.

Have you ever completed a Sudoku puzzle? No. Never figured out how to play it either.

Would you rather be a nuclear physicist or marine biologist? Marine biologist. That’s one step closer to one of my loves, biology. Plus I was never any good with physics, so.

Do you have a deep, dark secret you're hiding from every one? I guess.

Would you rather be able to soar like an eagle or swim like a dolphin? I’d make my childhood self happy and go with flight.

If you wanted to learn a foreign language, what would it be? Korean so I can finally stop reading subs, hahah.

Are you bi-curious? No.

Did you watch the Disney Channel or Nickelodeon more as a kid? The Nickelodeon cartoons were far more interesting to me. I think I only got into Disney when I got a little bit older, once I was able to appreciate the more mature content in shows like The Suite Life, That’s So Raven, etc. But for the most part our TV was always tuned into Nick Jr., Spongebob, Jimmy Neutron and the other Nick shows.

Name 5 films that were made the year you were born: American History X (great watch), The Truman Show, Mulan, La Vita e Bella if I’m not mistaken (one of my faves, no matter how gut-wrenching it is), and Shakespeare in Love.

Did you have a lot of friends in high school? Yes, eventually I did.

Do you rely more on the newspaper, Internet or TV as your news source? Social media these days since I find that online writers are far more discerning in their reporting than TV anchors, who stay neutral at best.

True or false: Bigger is better. Very vaguely put, but not always, I guess.

Do you think religion is the primary cause of war? No? There’ve been plenty other reasons for war.

What's your favorite pizza topping? ...Cheese.

Think of your wardrobe. What color do you wear the most? It’s still black, I think.

Have you ever been to a planetarium? Just once, on a middle school field trip. I’d love to come back, though.

Do you feel like you connect more with animals or other people? I don’t get to be with animals a lot other than my dogs, so I’ll go with people.

Do you feel like sometimes you have to lie in order to protect yourself? Wow so dramatically put haha but yeah, I suppose it does feel that way sometimes.

How often do you exercise? Literally never. I’ve stopped working out this year since I didn’t see the point, and I’ve stopped feeling like I had to ‘get back’ at my ex just by getting a more toned figure. I’m totally at peace with how my body looks, plus I never want to give up on my favorite foods and snacks lol so there’s that.

Can you swear in a different language? Putangina mong bobo kang gago ka. That’s three for ya.

Do you think teachers/doctors deserve to get paid more than pro athletes? Everyone deserves to be paid fairly to the point that no comparison should be necessary, period.

From a scale of 1- 5, you would rate this survey: Erm, a 4.5. I had to delete some questions I didn’t feel comfortable answering or that I found a little meh, but the rest I fairly enjoyed.

Do you think most of these questions were more original or more ordinary? It’s a bit in between.

Approx. time you completed this survey: Hahahahah 10:38 PM. I took a million breaks.

#survey #surveys