#this is me making up for missing her birthday
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hallmarks of sisterhood
putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.
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Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you.
It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked.
As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily.
All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could.
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“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister.
“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.
“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.”
Alba flushed red with anger.
“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind.
“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”
“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?”
“You are such a-”
“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room.
“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed.
“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending.
“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted.
“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter.
When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried.
Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.”
“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”
“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.
“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl.
“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit.
“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.
“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-”
It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped.
“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly.
“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you.
You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously.
They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument.
You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong.
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You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often.
Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock.
Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.
“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.”
“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer.
“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos.
“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go.
“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile.
“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room.
“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics.
“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it.
As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up.
If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so.
This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you.
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The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument.
You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this.
If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it.
You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope.
Alexia had responded first.
It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.
Alba responded after that.
You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.
You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.
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You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today.
You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later.
You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later.
“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder.
You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible.
“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed.
You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.”
“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look.
“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.”
Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.”
You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.
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You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included.
That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall.
The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image.
You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life.
You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous.
You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically.
You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful.
You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song.
More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters.
Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly.
You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her.
They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.
You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation.
“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face.
“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?”
You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters.
Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck!
Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.
You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come.
A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt.
“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly.
“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head.
“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.”
You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others.
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Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right.
She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face.
“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly.
Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?”
Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.”
Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset.
“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.”
Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.”
Eli chuckled. “I will.”
She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that.
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You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you.
“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed.
“I know, mija, I am so sorry.”
“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.”
Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t.
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It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life.
Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.
“Mami, I-”
“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.”
“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach.
“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”
“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.”
“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were.
“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life.
Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it.
Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you.
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Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch.
Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?”
Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba.
It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said.
“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister.
“We really did.” Alba replied.
“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared.
“We really do.” Alba agreed.
“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?”
“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face.
Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.”
“New car?”
“New house?”
“Can we buy her a country?”
They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior.
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The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset.
You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face.
“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently.
“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged.
“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you.
Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands.
“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them.
“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?”
“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this.
“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly.
“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?”
Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her.
“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped.
Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that.
“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.”
Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?”
“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse.
“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety.
“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’”
“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head.
“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.”
At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot.
“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer.
With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.”
Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore.
“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments.
Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work.
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Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in.
Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself.
“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?”
Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face.
Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes.
“Do you think that is enough?” You asked.
Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.”
Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway.
“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight.
It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you.
“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you.
You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting.
You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears.
Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters.
Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot.
Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed.
Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you.
It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special.
You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself.
You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught.
“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other.
They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction.
“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered.
“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”
And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be.
When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands.
It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get.
-------
Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands.
And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted.
“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands.
“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.”
Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded.
“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly.
“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it.
“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.”
“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-”
Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit.
“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.”
Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed.
Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be.
-------
it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.
everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.
hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.
#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#alexia putellas x reader#putellas!reader#platonic reader
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Make Me Your Masterpiece
Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.
Pairing: Robert ‘Bob�� Floyd x Female Reader
Length: 4.5K
Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)
(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)
You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.
They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.
You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.
“I think that’s-” you’d started.
“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.
The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes.
The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.
By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.
Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.
The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.
You’d been a goner right then and there.
And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.
As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.
Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.
He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.
Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.
You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”
It was the best first date you’d ever had.
For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.
You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.
You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.
Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.
You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting.
Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.
He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode.
You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.
Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.
You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.
Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.
“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”
You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.
It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.
Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.
“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”
He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth.
You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.
You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.
It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.
There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.
First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.
You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.
Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.
Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.
Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.
You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you.
After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.
“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.
He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”
Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.
You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.
Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.
You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.
He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”
“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.
You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.
His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.
“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.
Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”
You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.
The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.
“Where do you want me?”
“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.
His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”
Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”
You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.
You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.
His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.
Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.
He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.
Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.
There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.
He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”
You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.
You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.
Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.
You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.
“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”
Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.
You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.
“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”
The answer is easy, “Yes.”
You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.
The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.
The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.
He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”
You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.
“Bob”, you whine.
The camera clicks.
“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.” He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”
The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.
He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.
The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.
“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”
“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.
He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.
“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”
Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.
Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.
Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.
But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.
“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”
Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.
Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.
All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.
You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.
You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.
His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.
You needed more.
“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.
He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.
“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”
Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.
He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.
He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.
It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.
Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.
The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.
He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.
You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.
“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”
You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.
He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.
Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.
Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.
It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.
You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.
Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.
This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.
The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.
“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”
You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.
“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.
“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”
You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.
“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”
He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.
That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.
It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.
That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.
He gave you the sky and he made you his world.
Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!
A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!
You can read my other stories here!
taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
#bob floyd#robert bob floyd#bob floyd fic#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd imagine#robert bob floyd x female reader#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd smut#top gun fanfiction#top gun imagine#robert bob floyd fic#bob x you#bob x reader
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Happy birthday!more female wei wuxian please
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
If Jiang Cheng is captured or killed, they'll kill Madame Yu and Uncle Jiang and Jiang Cheng. Jiang Yanli is an heir, but not one that can lead their people into battle, and they won’t bother keeping hostages for her benefit.
Wei Wuxian could do it – but with Jiang Cheng gone, she loses her place in the clan, she can't become the wife of their future sect leader if he’s dead. She’s the logical one to lose.
Jiang Cheng is going to kill her. But they’re getting too close to the inn.
She pays a boy to take the medicine and a note back to them in an hour’s time, then whistles, clear and bright cutting through the crowd. The Wen soldiers look at her and she’s hungry and tired but this is her clan’s life on the line here, her sister’s, her fiance’s. “Looking for me?”
There’ a moment of stillness then they’re surging forward and she’s running and they’re chasing and she’s very, very good but they’re fresh. She needs to go someplace they won’t follow.
They’re not too far from Yiling, she thinks.
~
Jiang Cheng is going to kill her.
He wants to go after her, but he doesn’t even know where she is, and that would mean leaving A-jie defenseless on her own, which he can’t do, and Wei Wuxian would never forgive him for doing anyway.
They set a punishing pace to Jin territory, which is where the disciples were instructed to meet up with them. A bit of gamble, but Wei Wuxian had pointed out that Jin Guangshan would likely be playing both sides of the war to his advantage, which is as close to neutral territory as they were going to get.
Once he delivers A-jie to the rest of their disciples, he can leave them to protect her and can leave her to organize them and he can go after Wei Wuxian. He thinks that three hostages is probably one too many – two too many, really, and he wonders how long it will be before his mother’s mouth gets her killed. If they do put her and Wei Wuxian together, that would move up that timetable exponentially.
Part of him is scared Wei Wuxian’s already dead. The rest of him knows better.
If she were dead, the Wen would be flaunting and bragging about. If they’d killed her, they’d be using it to draw him out, but so far there’s been nothing.
Of course, she ruins his plans like always because just when he’s getting ready to go out searching, she appears in the camp and grabs his shoulders and says, “You’ll never guess what I figured out!”
She’s been missing for almost three weeks and just as soon as he feels like he can breathe again he’s going to strangle her. “You!” he hisses and then he’s grabbing her, yanking her into his chest and holding her so tightly that she probably can’t breathe either, although for a different reason.
She’s hugging him back just as tightly, which makes him feel slightly less like he’s losing his mind. He pulls back and she’s wearing robes that she definitely stole and – “Why do you have a flute?”
Wei Wuxian beams, rocking back on her heels.
Most of Jiang Cheng’s relief drains to wariness.
That expression on her face has never meant anything good.
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def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333
make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))
I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way
But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader
“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”
“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.
“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”
“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!
You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.
You huff.
“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?
“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.
“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.
“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.
“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”
You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”
“I’ll come by after work.”
“You don’t have to-“
“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.
True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.
You’re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.
All or nothing.
“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.
“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.
Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.
Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.
“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.
“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”
“Okay.” You murmur.
Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.
You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?
“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.
“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.
“Yeah.”
“Like this?”
“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.
He huffs. “No.”
“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”
Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”
“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”
Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.
Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”
“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.
“Can you lean in a bit?”
“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.
“Perfect. Good girl.”
It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.
Fuck.
You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.
He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.
“Give it a try, luv.”
A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.
He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.
“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.
#answered#simon ghost riley#call of duty#ghost cod#cod x reader#ghost x reader#cod#simon x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#fem reader
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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 重啟之極海聽雷/Reunion: The Sound of the Providence/The Lost Tomb Reboot/this thing has too many names
Reunion (I'm just going to call it that) is a 2020 action drama about the most specialest little babygirl in the tomb-raiding world, his two husbands, and the cadre of assorted weirdos they pick up as they try to follow a set of directions left by a dead (?) man in the thunder.
Imagine if someone showed you the Mandalorian, and you were like, gee, that was a neat little sci-fi one-shot! because you'd never heard of Star Wars. That was basically my experience watching this show, having no idea that the Lost Tomb franchise (DMBJ) was even a thing. Turns out that not only is there a whole big continuity out there with these characters, but that Reunion takes place a few years after the main story's resolution. Don't worry, though -- Reunion doesn't spoil you for that resolution. It doesn't spoil you for much, period. Look, DMBJ has a weird relationship to endings, okay?
I have written a more thorough where-to-start guide for DMBJ as a whole, so if you want to consider other entry points, well, that information is there for your consideration. Yet it is my opinion that this is the best entry into the overall franchise, and a fun thing to watch just in general, and I'm here to make my case for both of those.
The rest of this rec will assume that you have no familiarity with the DMBJ series. That's okay; you don't need any. All you need is to trust my five reasons you should watch this.
1. Old Man Yaoi
As you begin this show, you are introduced to the Iron Triangle. That's them in the picture up there. Left to right, you have: Xiao Ge, magically tattooed immortal hottie who just got back from ten years in [scene missing]; Wu Xie, our protagonist, who's just a little guy and it's his birthday; and Wang Pangzi, the literal best.
(And yes, Wu Xie is in his 30s and Pangzi is in his 40s, which is not technically old man anything, but ... look, if you watch, you'll see why I think I'm justified in calling it that.)
They are extremely married. They are a disaster trio of disasters so disastrous that no one else should ever be subjected to their chaos. They're going to make sure lots of people are, though, don't you worry about it. Sometimes those people even deserve it.
However, because the show (tragically!!) decides that Xiao Ge has somewhere else to be like 95% of the runtime, most of the relationship you get to see is between Wu Xie and Pangzi.
I'm saying this now as an old gay nerd who just this year celebrated her 15th wedding anniversary: I have never, never felt so represented in media as I have watching Wu Xie and Pangzi interact. There's a little wake-up song they sing together near the end of the show, and it just ... it packs so much character development into thirty seconds. These boys have been living adjacent lives for so long that they've made up their own little shared songs about the mundanities of daily living. That is just what happens when you marry your best friend and then decide to get old and weird together. Ask me how I know.
Look, if you want to know whether this show is for you or not, watch to the end of the first episode, to the part where Pangzi flips over the table. If your heart is filled with joy (as it should be), keep going.
Love makes a tomb-raiding syndicate family.
2. A fun-filled action-packed romp of nonsense!
If you're familiar with Hellblazer canon, this will make sense to you: Reunion is Dangerous Habits. If you're not familiar with Hellblazer canon, try it like this: Reunion is a terrible place to start because it plays on your extant affection for a character who gains a terrible status effect almost immediately. It's a also great place to start because it throws you right in the action with measurably high stakes and gives you a reason to build that affection very quickly.
I'm also going to warn you right off the bat: The plot of this show got cut to ribbons by censors.
See, the DMBJ books, being books, are allowed to get away with supernatural shit! So you've got zombies and ghosts and curses and monsters and immortality and all your other standard ooky spooky semi-urban fantasy trappings. But the DMBJ adaptations, being live-action, are heavily regulated in their content. This is why, in the early Reunion episodes, our heroes are menaced by human-looking creatures that are actually ancient mannequins made of leather that are piloted, mecha-style, by evil clams. Because evil clams are more scientific than zombies. I guess.
So yeah, the plot of this book already had to get mangled into a more "science"-compliant shape even before it made it to filming. The real problem is that a whole lot more of it got cut after it was all filmed and put together. I have read an explanation of what the actual storyline was supposed to be, and yeah, if you know what you’re looking at, you can see (and hear) the scars where major elements got hacked out with a weed whacker.
Therefore: You cannot expect this plot to make sense.
But that's okay! You're not here for the plot to make sense! You're here to watch some characters you love run around through ridiculous and sometimes beautiful labyrinths, trying to solve puzzles you're never given enough information to understand, all in search of the resolution to a mystery that had half its guts torn out before you got to see it -- and you are here to love it. If you have ever laughed and cheered your way through a Mission: Impossible film without pausing to care too much about the plot holes it’s dodging left and right, you are in the correct frame of mind to appreciate this. Just believe that whatever engaging nonsense the show tells you is correct for the time being and go with it.
You cannot watch DMBJ and care about the laws of physics. You simply cannot.
Do not, however, let me give you the impression that the shoddy plotting is accompanied by equally shoddy performances. A major part of this show’s incredible watchability comes from how the cast is shockingly good. There are some serious heavy hitters among the actors. A major part of why this Wu Xie and Pangzi are my favorite together is the incredible chops both Zhu Yilong and Chen Minghao have, to say nothing of their real-life affection for one another. (See that scar on Wu Xie's neck? That scar is there because Zhu Yilong commits to the bit.) Effortlessly charming Mao Xiaotong turns potentially irritating wunderkind Bai Haotian into a perfect precious weirdo baby. Wu Erbai's entire second-season character arc could have been unintentionally comedic, but veteran of queer cinema Hu Jun sells even the undignified moments as relentlessly tragic. And of course Baron Chen absolutely kills it with...
3. This giant fucking loser
This is Hei Xiazi. That's not his name, but it's close enough. Allow me to do a dramatic reenactment of my watching his first scene:
[camera pans over to him]
me: Ugh, I recognize this kind of wannabe badass character design. I hate his type. He's self-important, hyper-masculine, and just a big jerk, and the show thinks he's soooo cool. Barf.
[thirty seconds later]
me: Oh no. I was so wrong. I love him forever now.
This is because he is (as indicated above) a giant fucking loser. Yes, he's a good fighter who knows lots of things. He's also a wet potato chip of a man. Sure, he can get you into a headlock, but he can also annoy you into submission, and that's honestly more fun for him. My wife has used the phrase “Vash the Stampede-coded” to describe him. My wife is not wrong.
And the kind of ridiculous thing is, being such a loser is what wraps back around to making him cool again. He's a loser because he just doesn't fucking care. His masculinity is the opposite of fragile. You tell him to wear a dress and makeup, he'll do it -- and sure, he'll complain, but only because he enjoys complaining. He has no dignity. He’s tits-out. He's gender. He's the worst and also the best.
Hei Xiazi is a major character in the other installations, to the point where he and his boyfriend (more on him later) even have their own movie. But of course, I did not know this on my first watch, so I kept expecting the show to explain his whole deal. It does not, but you don't really need it to. He sees better in the dark. He doesn't age. He's a thug for hire. There, that's all the bio you need.
One of the things that makes him great is that he is the least sexually threatening person ever. Across all the properties he's in, he spends a fair amount of time with women -- sometimes in very close quarters -- and they are perfectly safe around him. I actually wrote a whole post about it once upon a time (warning for tiny spoilers for a series that isn't this one) wherein I claim that not only Xiazi but Reunion in general is the television equivalent of the shirt that says I RESPECT WOMEN SO MUCH I DON'T HAVE SEX WITH THEM.
That said, this loser does get a sort-of romance plot here -- and honestly, I find it very cute! It's not even the only instance in this series of a bisexual guy in a long-term same-sex relationship getting a girlfriend, and I like that other one too! Look, the handle of my DMBJ sideblog is @katamaricule because I joked that Wu Xie treats polyamory like a katamari, and if you don't move fast enough, you're going to be rolled right up into his gay little cuddle puddle.
This is not a show for exclusive ships; this is a show for inclusive ships. The Jiumen Association is a polycule. You don't even have to know what the Jiumen Association is to know it's true.
4. The power of friendship
This show has a lot of characters.
I'd say the supporting cast is divided into three categories: characters who have been in previous installments, characters who have not been in previous installments, and characters who probably should have been in previous installments (or at least mentioned) but who were only created for Reunion so we have to pretend like we've known about them all along.
There is no way to tell which is which -- which is part of my argument that this series makes a good entry point to the franchise.
Take Huo Daofu. Huo Daofu is a brilliant doctor masquerading as a donut stand operator who treats Wu Xie with all the cold disdain of a man confronting the person who left him at the altar years ago. On the one hand, yes! We do know Huo Daofu from a previous series, and we've known he's both a doctor and a bitch. On the other hand, oh, we have no idea why he's like this about Wu Xie, and we probably never will. The show just treats it like it's for an excellent reason, and you know what, from what you know about Wu Xie, it probably is.
Consider also Jiang Zisuan. One of the show's principal antagonists, Jiang Zisuan turns out to be the brother of ... well, let's just say it's someone whose having a brother really should have come up before this. It has not come up. (And that's even before we get into the issue of his surname.) His stated identity as that person's brother is so bizarre that my favorite interpretation is that he isn't actually that person's brother -- all the flashbacks we see are just his delusions about a relationship he's completely invented. But there's no way you'd know how fucking weird this is on your first run.
Then there's our friendly little support himbo, Kanjian, who shows up to all occasions with two tickets to the gun show and not a thought in that beautiful head. (His name just means "vest," which is par for the course when it comes to the author's naming conventions.) He was a lot more menacing in the last series (where they kept putting sleeves on him, geez), where most of what we learned about him is that you can loan him out to other tomb-raiding families. Now he's a golden retriever with great aim and a slingshot. It's an upgrade.
The trick is, you cannot be surprised when someone shows up and the show treats them like you should know who they are, even when there's no possible way you could know who they are. I mean, for heaven's sake, Liu Sang arrives in the middle of an obvious beef with Pangzi, the origins of which are never satisfactorily explained, while also having a giant do-I-want-to-fuck-him-or-do-I-want-to-be-him crush on Xiao Ge, which is also never satisfactorily explained. Whatever, you just roll with it. He's got good hearing, a bad attitude, and questionable taste in idols. Now you're good to go.
(I should throw in a special note here that Liu Sang is many, many people's little meow meow, and not undeservedly. For a fuller explanation of why that is, please consult this other post I made.)
Part of the fun of this big cast is the adorable interactions you get. All the characters have appropriately big personalities, and the show loves letting people you wouldn’t expect bounce off one another. It’s not your typical action-hero show where nothing happens without the protagonist in the room. There are lots of exciting combinations and tons of charming dynamics! Unlikely friendships form all over the place! Enemies become allies! Allies become friends! Friends become friends with other friends! Some friends become enemies again! You'll need a scoreboard to keep up!
This is not to say the show treats all its characters perfectly or equally -- one of the precious few main female characters doesn't even get a real name, for heaven's sake, and the less said about the brownface racism, the better. It is, at its heart, a dude show for dudes made in China, with all the troubling decision-making that implies. Where it does deserve credit, though, is in understanding that its supporting characters are actual people with personalities apart from their function in Wu Xie's narrative. Sometimes the show just asks "what if [random character A] and [random character B] had to interact?" and has fun considering the answer! Which is almost always a delight to watch, and sometimes even breaks your heart.
5. Amazing rewatch value!
And by this I mean the experience of watching this show is remarkably different once you have any understanding of the rest of the DMBJ universe.
For instance, there's a point where two characters are scuba-diving past some submerged coffins, and one character tells the other whose coffins they are. Working only on information Reunion has given you, you're like, oh, that's where they buried the guy who built this creepy place, that's a little weird. Once you recognize that name from other series, though, your reaction is far more, excuse me, they did WHAT to WHOSE corpses?
Or another point where a character you've already met is on a train, and there's a handsome gentleman who just happens to be riding with her. He hands her his business card! Aw, that's sweet, he seems like a nice guy! Well, no, Xie Yuchen is not nice, but he is one of our allies, and he's Hei Xiazi's boyfriend, and a lot of what he's doing hits real different when you have a fuller grasp on why he's doing it and for whom. (Honestly, a major reason to watch Reunion first is so you're not fully and appropriately upset by how your black/pink gays merely have one teeny tiny scene together.)
From the way the series treats the persistent absence of Wu Sanxing, Wu Xie's third uncle, I absolutely, 100% assumed that he was a completely new character to this installment of the series, an extremely long-lost relative that we've somehow conveniently managed to never talk about before now. So imagine my gobsmacked surprise when I went to watch a different series, set much earlier in the timeline, where the opening scene prominently features Wu Sanxing as an actual character in the present-day narrative! ...Well, sorta. Look, there's a lot of fuckery with his identity in earlier parts of the story, and fortunately you need to know none of it to understand Reunion. But when you do, it suddenly makes a lot more sense why Wu Xie talks about someone who was a major part of Wu Xie's adult life like he died when Wu Xie was nine.
AND THE FLASHBACK SCENE WHERE A-NING GETS KILLED BY THE SNAKE, AND YOU'RE LIKE, OKAY, AND THEN YOU WATCH ULTIMATE NOTE AND IT WASN'T LIKE THAT AT ALL look, I know there are kinda reasons for this, different production companies and all, but seriously, what the fuck
All of which to say is that the experience of watching Reunion the first time is, hey, this self-contained romp is a lot of fun! The experience of rewatching it after watching any of the other DMBJ installments is a transcendently wonderful head-clutching avalanche of one moment of recognition right after another.
And here's the thing: You will watch more. Reunion is a gateway drug. If you are interested enough to make it through all 62 episodes, you're going to be interested in watching more. Which is great. The English-speaking fandom needs more people. Come down into the tombs. It's great down here. We've got snakes and arguably unintentional homoeroticism. Join us. Join usssssssss
Are you ready for an aventure?
There are a couple different ways to watch the first half, but there's (weirdly) only one way to watch the second, so for both of them, I'm going to send you straight to iQiyi: Season 1 (32 episodes) and Season 2 (30 episodes).
And just so you’re ready when Reunion is done, here’s how you find the rest of the DMBJ series, in the absolutely non-chronological order in which I, personally, think you should watch them:
The Lost Tomb 2 (AsianCrush, YouTube)
Ultimate Note (iQiyi)
The Mystic Nine (iQiyi, Viki)
Sand Sea/Tomb of the Sea (Viki, WeTV, YouTube, also YouTube)
Also, there's a lot of movies and side series and other pieces that are worth seeing, and even a couple of full series I've left off the list, and you can just slot them in wherever. And maybe we'll get Tibetan Sea Flower someday? Look, hope springs eternal.
They're so perfect. Perfect triangle. Perfect boys.
#dmbj#重启#重启之极海听雷#盗墓笔记#Reunion: The Sound of the Providence#the lost tomb reboot#rec post#i made this
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Beastmaster's Bond II (NSFW) FT Chaehyun
Author's Note: I just really like Chaehyun. Make sure to wish my happy marshmallow a happy birthday.
I winced as I watched Chaehyun leave. “You are in charge until I get back,” Chaeyun responded I faked a smile knowing this week was going to be Hell. She had awakened something inside of me and I was not keen on being caged again. When we lock eyes she smiles gently.
“Hey it will be okay big guy I'll be right back, and we can figure out everything then.” I nod and Chaeybyun leans into my ear.
“Then we can fuck all day and all night,” she says with sadistic smile.
“As enticing as that sounds. I kinda just want to cuddle when you get back,” I respond conflicted. She was a joy to be around when the hormones in my brain weren't telling me to fuck her endlessly. Which I could already feel building up. we raced to get her ready so there was no time to “meet either of our needs” We could see it in the other's eyes. We kissed to scratch that itch but ultimately it left us unsatisfied, but we held strong as I saw her off. I drove back home then back to the zoo to drown myself in work. The first week was easy enough without Marshmallow. Running the zoo was difficult at first and took up most of my time, but I adjusted quickly. By the second week, the possessive and restless anger began to set in. The time difference made chatting together harder for the two of us, but any time she mentioned another guy besides her father I'd feel this violent urge to say “You know who you belong to right,” and it wasn't from a toxic place but this weird place of matter of fact. Needless to say, I missed her, and it was taking a toll on me.
By the fourth week, it hit me and I was out of it. Marshmallow had gone radio silent because the area she was in had no cell service, but on a positive note, I had everything ready for her to move her Magnamalo in, along with having “restructured” the zoo to be firing on all cylinders. I balanced schedules and helped Xiaotang (Chaehyun’s assistant) learn about the zoo because I was going to be helping Chaehyun with hatching Elder dragons moving forward. I also got my passport. Which made me feel worse as now Marshmallow was just a flight and a few grand away. I considered booking it just to see her, to hold her, but I had responsibilities.
On the 45th day of Marshmallow being gone(and the 45th consecutive day of work), I take the day off. I took the time to do a different passion of mine Photography. I drove over the the Aquarium of the Pacific and took pictures within the area. Due to it being a random weekday aquarium was quiet. So I got to have time to think. The possessiveness still raged within me but it was a dull pain by this point and not the throbbing ache as before. While I spent the morning contemplating and putting myself at ease I was interrupted by a call. I took out my phone and answered it
“Ahoy,” I answer
“Hey, Daddy it's your favorite marshmallow can you pick me up,”
“That depends are you asking as a friend or as an employee,”
“I'm asking my Daddy to take care of me,” Marshmallow teased in a tone that sent a shiver through my spine.
“I'll be there in a bit,”
I arrived at Marshmallow’s apartment 35 minutes later where she was lounging on her couch only her bra and panties. As I walked closer to her I smiled at her cute expression. When I was close enough to touch I sat her up got on the couch with her and just draped my arms around her. Chaehyun smiled as she nestled herself in my arms.
“I missed you, Daddy,” she said content. I chuckled and replied
“As funny as this has been can I ask why you insist on calling me daddy?”
“Well at first it was to get under your skin but now it's kinda stuck like how you call me Marshmallow,”
“That was never to get under your skin. you're soft and pale like marshmallows. So my brain made the connecting the fire time we… connected, but you're also sweet like one so it made sense to me,”
“Wait so it's not an insult to my weight,” Chaehyun asked
“Heavens no I love Marshmallows they're great and you're great like one,” I answer. Chaehyun looks at me and smiles before kissing me. I could feel myself losing to lust but I wanted to enjoy our time together a bit more so I broke the kiss and ran my hands through her hair as we lay together.
After another half hour of this, Chaehyun began to grind her ass on my crotch. She did this at an agonizingly slow pace before I lost control and the lust I'd been holding back took over I unclasped her bra and pushed her panties down. Chaehyun mewls as I begin to squeeze and paw her pliant and soft body. I squeeze her thigh and Chaehyun moans aggressively.
“Fuck stop teasing me,” she growls as she gets on top and pins me down. Her eyes are hazy with lust.
“I tried so hard to stay focused but I needed you. I needed this cock in me,” she growled. I gave her a shit-eating grin as she began to stroke me, “So here is how it's going to go. You are going to fuck me until I'm satisfied then we're going go over to the logistics moving into together because I need you and this cock to put me to bed every night,” I smirked at her and replied
“What if I say no?” her vision goes red as she takes me. I groan at the softness of her pussy as it envelopes my dick. She starts grinding figure eight into my crotch.
“You couldn't deny me even if you wanted to. I see it in your eyes. You want me as much as I want you,” she says powerfully. Her voice and atmosphere resonate with a deep part of my soul. Something primal. I look deep into her eyes and I see that primal possessiveness mirrored In her. I flip our positions as I wrap her right thigh around my waist. I massage her tummy with my left hand and her right thigh with my right hand as I forcefully thrust into her.
“God how could I ever say something mean about your body it's just so soft and velvety smooth.” I moan. Chaehyun mewls as I continue thrusting. Chaehyun’s moans are music to my ears as we continue fucking. I alternate my arms and I grip her other thigh and breast.
“Oh God, you're so deep,” Chaehyun moans as I lift her hips slightly to get a better angle. Her pussy tightens around me as I continue thrusting. We lock eyes and I see hers clouded with an intense lust that terrorizes her. She can't stop herself from nearing her peak. “God breed meme fill my fertile pussy with your seed. Let's have kids together,” she screams. My body takes over thrusting into her harder and harder as I chase my peak. Hers hits her on the way there. “Oh my god. I'm cumming she moans as a wave of her juice crashes into me.” Her pussy tightens as I fuck her through her high, and she moans the filthiest encouragement to breed her.
“God fill me with your cum. Make my pussy spill it. Please give me your cum I need it. I need to feel full and make my belly swell. Make me a mommy. Making us official fills me up so much that I can't help but get pregnant. Make my tits swell and my stomach bulge with life, please. Make me a mommy make me pregnant,” Chaehyun moaned, and hearing her say all those things gave me the push I needed to climax. Five weeks of a needed release hit me all at once. I groaned as I flooded her insides white as I gave into her incessant breeding demands, but I couldn't stop thrusting. I needed to breed her more. I felt my body kick into a second gear and I flipped her over and began taking her from the back. Her pussy tightened delightfully as I yanked her prone body up.
“Oh yes,” she groaned as we
“Don't ever leave me again,” I growl at her.
“I won't ever again. I need this cock. I want this cock to fuck Me every day,” Marshmallow replied.
I nod as I grab her wide hips to thrust in her deeper. The possessive feeling reaches a new high, “I'll make sure of it. I'll breed you every day and night. You will begin and end your days full of my cum. Even when you're pregnant I'll fuck you. You're mine marshmallow and no one else.” Chaehyun moans excitedly at that before succumbing to another orgasm. When her body goes limp I realize I may have overdone it a tad. I pick her up and carry her to her bedroom. Well, mission accomplished I guess I think to myself as I wait for her to recover. She sleeps soundly on her bed as I lay next to her. She snores lightly so I adjust her so she can sleep on her side. Feeling her body naked body all over as I try to get her comfortable causes me to stiffen again, and I almost give in right there but I remember the time and place. She's probably tired from all the stuff she did. While she sleeps I field some emails for her about the zoo and play with my switch for a bit (I always keep it and my camera with me.) I let her sleep for a few more hours until I grew hungry. I put some pants on and walked into her kitchen to see if there was anything I could cook. Funny enough she had all the stuff from French toast and omelets. So despite it being almost 7:45 pm, I began work on “breakfast” When I was finishing up I heard the shuffling of her little feet. She yawned as she walked in now draped in the same panties and bra from earlier. Marshmallow looks at me and squints.
“You taller,” she says annoyed
“There's no way,” I reply. Marshmallow groans and goes back into her room before coming out with a tape measure. She walks over to me and uses a step stool to be closer to my head.
“Yep when we first met you were five-ten now you're six-one and three-quarters.,” Marshmallow teased. I looked at her confused. “I know every inch of your body dear and when we started today I had trouble hitting the spots I could normally get to now I know why,” she said with a smile. She looked behind me to see the food prepared. She swipes a piece of French toast and bites into it. She hums in elation at the taste,
“Ah mashta,” she mumbles as she chews. When she finishes she laughs, “Is there anything you can't do?” Marshmallow teased, I replied, “Talk to women normally,” Marshmallow replied with laughter as I fixed her a plate. After that, I fix myself a plate and we eat standing next to each other. I feel content and happy here with her. I never want this feeling to stop.
“Hey Chaeyhun,” I start
Chaehyun looks at me surprised,” using my real name you must be serious,” she says with a serious gaze. I nod and lock eyes with her.
“All that stuff about being together did you mean that,” I ask shakily.
Chaehyun smirks, “is that nervousness I hear? How unlike you.” Chaehyun teases in a dulcet tone that drives me wild. Feeling a little feral and done with teasing I lightly smack her ass and reply,
“Yeah now can you be serious before I fuck you stupid,” Chaehyun smiles as she takes a break from eating to stare at me
“What If I want you to fuck Me stupid, what if I want you to fuck Me stupid for the next week straight,” she asks I try to stay focused I try to fight my urges to pounce on her again and I hang on barely. Her body and voice are just so enticing that I always struggle to resist fucking her every second I am around her.
“Please Chaehyun I want to know where we stand. I…” Before I could finish laying out my worries Chaehyun kissed me with such a deep and passionate fervor that reduced all my worries into sad whimpers.
“You are mine Dinovaldo Bear, and no one else’s,” Chaehyun says with a lustful and possessive fire. She kisses me again with a ravenous hunger that she transfers over to Me. I join her in ravenous lust.
“And you are mine Kim Chaehyun,” I say before kissing her again. I rip her bra off and grope her breast before moving her panties to the side and plunging into her again. Chaehyun smiles seductively as I thrust in and out of her.
“That's it fill me again make sure my hungry pussy is always full of your cum for the next week,” Chaehyun moaned causing me to cum in her again. Chaehyun smiles.
“Oh someone liked that,” she smirks reveling in the power she held over me.
“Can you go again,” I nod then she does the sexiest and grossest thing I have ever witnessed. She put my last two pieces of French toast on her tits and said “Come Finish your dinner.” part of my brain was repulsed but damn was it hot. I got down to her right tit first and lapped up the soggy bread and sucked on her syrupy nipple. Chaehyun moaned as I feasted on her body. I have never experimented with food play (or many kinks for that manner but Chaehyun brought out this ferocity in me that thrilled and frightened me. The passion and desire were there but what if in my zeal I hurt her was something that plagued my mind. As multiple people had mentioned multiple times at this point; I was stronger and taller than I had been before. this meant that I had to readjust to my new strength which would make things awkward. as if sensing my hesitation while I devour her other tit and remaining French toast she said, "Come on Tiger be rough with me I can take it. I'm not delicate. I'm as tough as you are." Rex did it for me. I grabbed her waist and laid her flat on the ground as I thrust into her. we rut in syncopating rhythms clawing and marking each other as our own as we chase another mutual high. Chaehyun (with the help of some groping here and there) reached her release first and came violently. I was so caught up in her body that I hadn't realized she was also milking another orgasm out of me as well. As we basked in the afterglow I smiled at her. She smiled back. "You liked that Rex thing huh?"
"you bet Tiger," I say in the spur of the moment as her hair falls over her face making it look like tiger stripes. I was unprepared for her pussy to tighten at that.
"Ooh someone likes that," I tease. Chaehyun growls and flips me over as she begins to ride me. her pussy demanding I get hard once again. Unable to resist any of her demands my body complies and I let her ride another orgasm. She lifts her head in ecstasy as she says, "Call me that again. I'm your tiger. You're white tiger," she says losing herself further to pleasure,
"Does my tiger-like her new nickname," I ask as she rides me. Chaehyun tightens again and moans as she comes again. I push her off of me and she growls at me. Her eyes are full of hungry lust. as she rubs her body seductively. she crawls to me and corners me in her kitchen,
"More," rolls seductively off her lips. Something in our body chemistry feels like it's changed because her scent is this intoxicating and arousing mix of cinnamon and her natural musk and I am hard again.
"What the fuck are you doing to me," I growl as I pick her up to fuck her again? her walls as usual provide no resistance as I slide into her. she moans in ecstasy. her velvety walls accept me with no effort as I thrust in and out. His body is perfect for me. the perfect softness the perfect taste the perfect smell. the perfect woman. I gaze deep into her eyes before kissing her again. her mouth relents to my force as I explore the caver myself before she moans and cums again.
"Rex give it to me. I need it. Make me your mate forever breed me. breed me again and again,” she says and I moan as I paint her insides white again. I watch as she rides out my orgasm trying to steal as much of my cum as possible. When we relax Chaehyun gets up and has me follow her to the bathroom. She showed me all of her contraceptives. She promptly throws them out.
That signal move changed something in me. A part of me I never knew was there awoken. I walked up to Chaehyun. I run my hands over her every curve and get lost in her eyes. I see many emotions reflecting in her eyes but the one that to me the most is vulnerability. She knows this is a risk but is willing to choose to submit to me as hers. My response is simple,
“You are Mine, and I am yours,” Chaehyun nodded desperately before she replied
“Yes, yes, yes. Please don't leave me.”
“Not a chance, but do be aware once we go down this road please know I'm a greedy and selfish lover there will be no sharing,” I reply. In my attempt to be seductive, it came out sounding abusive so I quickly tried to remedy that.
“WAIT that came out wrong. What I meant to say is that if we are doing this it's all in there's no open relationship no side pieces. We are together,” I reply. Chaehyun smiles and then says,
“I wouldn't have it any other way.”
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Part 2: What Then?
I promise I have a life, but I couldn't help writing part 2 today! This takes place the same day as the "Development Day" when Syd and Carmy are thrown off by each other's answers during an ice breaker activity. Post-season 2. Feel-good fluff.
Photo Credit @drrav3nb / drrav3nb.tumblr.com
"So those are the menu changes for Chicago Restaurant Week. If you have questions, feel free to ask me or Chef Sydney. You should also have an email from Natalie by later today. Okay, let's prep for night service!"
Carmy closed the meeting, grateful that it was finally over. He was no longer afraid of public speaking after rising in the ranks of various kitchens, but his mind was not in this ever since the ice breaker. He, Carmen Berzatto, had made Sydney's favorite meal ever? The last time he prepared the pork confit and the Milk and Honey dishes she mentioned was several years ago. Back then he was at Eleven Madison Park, a rising star on the culinary scene, who chain-smoked, slept 3 hours a night, and was berated by the EC daily. It was a nightmare peppered with flashes of genius. He was dying to ask her about it, but before he could get her attention Sydney had slipped into the kitchen.
He stared disappointed at the window that separated the dining area and kitchen.
"Hey Bear, what's up with you?" Richie said sidling up to him trying to follow his gaze.
"Nothing cousin."
"Yeah, right. I missed when it happened, but it seems like you crashed and had to reboot during the meeting. Then you were lost in Sydney-land. Want to talk about it?"
Carmy rubbed his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. When he used both hands, Richie knew without a doubt he had hit on something.
"First, cool it about Syd. That handout you gave us was really cute. And yes, there's something on my mind, but it's not for me to say."
Richie grinned and rubbed Carmy's shoulder.
"Fine, just get your head together because tonight is going to be loaded and it includes three anniversaries and a birthday. And second, you need to cool it about her or do something. It's like I'm living in The Wonder Years with Kevin and Winnie."
"What?"
"Oh, right. That's probably before your time. Kids!"
With that Richie sauntered over to the host stands to strategize with the wait staff and hosts.
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sydney who had a thousand things to do, was adding at least a hundred more onto her plate. She didn't want to appear like she had a moment to spare. She and Carmy could talk at the end of the night as usual, without any eavesdropping. This would also give her time to think of an explanation as to why she never mentioned eating at Eleven Madison Park and that she wasn't a stalker who followed him to The Beef. To top off this awkward sundae, Carmy casually admitted his favorite part of the day was closing, the only time they are alone every day. She hoped no one else had connected the dots on that last part.
The afternoon and the night never went quicker to her chagrin. Even when one of the line cooks was sent home due to illness and a large group put in an order for 7 Fishes two minutes before tickets closed, she thought the night couldn't last long enough. Fortunately, Carmy seemed resigned to waiting and didn't look at her more than usual. In a flash service was over and no one was in the mood to hang around. By 11:00pm Sydney had cleaned her station for the third time and forced herself to go to Carm's office. He sat there pretending to do busy work, patiently waiting like a child who consoled himself that his parents wouldn't make him wait too long to open his Christmas presents.
"Hey Syd...it was a good night," he said softly not wanting to scare her away.
Sydney nodded and took a seat. Might as well get it over with it.
"Okay, yes. You made the best meal I've ever had. During a break at the CIA, I went to NYC and ate everywhere on my list, including Eleven Madison Park. It was a Wednesday night and I ordered several things including pork confit and Milk and Honey."
Sydney couldn't help closing her eyes and smiling at the memory. Her guard began to slip.
"Carm, it was like tasting my future and the best part of my past at the same time. I asked the waiter who made those dishes and he said Carmen Berzatto."
Carmen leaned forward on the desk. Whenever Sydney praised him, he felt like a cactus in an unexpected downpour. He wouldn't waste a single word. Her sunny existence and her belief in him sustained him during his dry seasons. He reached for her whenever he looked at the debt they still owed Uncle Cicero, when his mother finally visited The Bear and cried saying that he had erased Mikey, and even when their success seemed too good to be true.
Sydney opened her eyes to find him looking at her in the way he had. It was terrifying because she had a very specific plan for her career. It also thrilled her, knowing the power she had over him. Five months ago, she had been begging for his focus and now she knew every her mood, glance, and word she spoke impacted him. Once for the fun of it during a slow night she stared at him until she drew his attention and smiled. He blushed, smiled back, came towards her without saying "corner", and crashed into one of the servers, sending three Michael cannoli to the floor. That was three months ago when she first realized something was going on with him. She'd refused to abuse her power since, going so far as to convince herself that she was overestimating his feelings. Then he said the best part of his day was closing. She hoped, well sort of hoped, that they could maintain this close, but not too close partnership and friendship without complications.
After a long pause Carmen sighed and sat back in his chair.
"So, how did you find me?"
"Well, like I said when we met, it was the job posting. I recognized your name and also The Beef from my dad taking me here."
She shrugged thoughtfully.
"It felt like it was meant to be. It gave me hope for the first time since Sheridan went under."
He nodded.
"It's really strange. You came here because I inspired you and the only reason, I felt capable of attempting something this big was because of you" he said gesturing to the ceiling.
"Yeah?" Sydney whispered.
"Yeah."
He stood up and walked around to sit on the desk facing her. Now, Sydney felt vulnerable looking up at him. It was so easy for him to unnerve her when he spoke this way, like under the table.
Carmy took one her hands and after a moment brought it to his lips.
"Thank you for telling me, Syd. It means a lot."
Sydney was unable to speak. Her throat had closed.
"Soon, is your one year work anniversary and I think we should celebrate."
She nodded.
Carmy set her hand down.
"It's late. I'll drive you home."
With that they left the office, gathered their stuff, and walked to his car in silence.
As they drove, Sydney attempted to talk herself down. Was that hand kiss, an Italian thing? Possibly. It also seemed like Carmy decided to do...something, but what? Worse, she was feeling like they had traded positions in mere seconds. She'd enjoyed having the upper hand. Oh, well. With a goodnight's rest she'd be back in form tomorrow. Maybe "accidentally" brush past him, or ask him to lift something heavy for her and comment on his strength. Then it would be game over for poor Carmy bear. For now, she wouldn't worry about the work anniversary. It was probably just going to be a cake Carm commissioned Marcus to bake.
Probably.
#the bear#sydcarmy#sydney x carmy#carmy the bear#sydney adamu#fan fiction#syd adamu#carmy x sydney#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#they are so cute
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For Klaus’s Birthday Special 💜💜💜
How about a combination from your list, of Accidental Confessions and “Two shots of vodka.”
“-seven bottles of vodka, four bottles of rum and whiskey, three bottles of pineapple and tomato juice, two bottles of syrup, eight cans of gin and tonic, four bowls of sliced fruit, and a plate of sugar.” Steve finished counting off all of the items on the table. “Anything else we’re missing?”
Eddie hummed thoughtfully before he snapped his fingers. Steve watched him rummage through one of the bags before pulling out two small delicate mini-umbrellas. Eddie opened them and placed them carefully next to the empty glasses.
“Now we’re ready,” Eddie grinned at Steve. It sent some happy shivers up his spine as usual.
“This is still the stupidest idea ever,” Robin said from her seat next to the camera.
“It was your idea!” Steve said.
“No. It was some random Patreon request from five months ago that you and Eddie insisted on doing. And it was only five dollars! Five!”
“Ready when you are, guys,” Jeff said, apparently taking their single brain cell for the moment.
Eddie jumped first onto their ‘intro’, “Do you guys love to drink at bar?”
Steve crossed his arms as he pressed his, “But can’t afford it in this economy?”
As practiced, they both swept their arms over the crowded table. “Let us be your guides!”
The Patreon request had made it sound easy: make some cocktails and other alcoholic drinks for designated events without looking up any existing recipes. The only problem was that neither Steve or Eddie knew any bartending 101. Except when they had discussed it over about tossing it aside, they both immediately realized wait, this is a good idea.
After they laid down the ground rules - only seven drinks will be made because they will not die of alcohol poisoning just for Youtube views - Jeff took out a card, chuckling as he read the first prompt.
“A drink for the babysitters.”
“Ooh!” Steve’s eyes lit up, “I know this one!”
He grabbed the neck of an unopened vodka, grabbing one of the empty glasses. “So here’s what we need-”
Steve wrestled with opening the bottle. Eddie tried to help but Steve slapped him away, barely containing his giggles as he finally opened the vodka. Was it weird that he already felt kinda drunk?
“Two shots of vodka!”
Steve poured a considerable amount until it looked about half full. He drank it all, shuddering from the burn sliding down inside his chest. Steve smacked his lips together with satisfaction.
Everyone stared back at him expectedly.
“What?”
“Is- is that it?” Eddie asked, horrified.
“Yep.”
“That can’t be it!”
“Dude, you clearly don’t babysit enough hours as I did.”
“You called that two shots? That was half a bottle, Steve!”
Robin started cackling, “Nevermind, you two are brilliant!”
“Ah yes, the babysitter’s cocktail,” Jeff nodded sagely, “I would recommend one shot for it though.”
“You heard Jeff!” Eddie threw his hands on Steve’s shoulders and started shaking him. “You’re already killing yourself with the vodka stuff! Think of your liver, big boy!”
Steve felt his cheeks heat up. Okay, the vodka was hitting him quicker than he expected.
Sadly, Eddie’s focus was returned back to the task at hand. Steve’s gaze lingered on his flexing hands and tattooed arms. By the time he snapped back to attention, Eddie had thrown together a-
“The hell is that?”
”It’s a fruit cocktail!” Eddie beamed, holding up his hideous drink. Steve gripped onto his own thigh just to prevent himself from leaning forward and smothering Eddie whole like a lust-ridden snake.
“That’s what you would give for- sorry, what he’s making a drink for?”
“First dates,” Jeff snickered, “Now I know why Eddie’s been single for ages.”
“Hey!” Eddie’s face reddened, “Only because I’ve been wanting to ask Steve on a-”
Eddie suddenly shut up so fast that his jaw clicked. He looked anxious, glancing over at Steve before he started to gulp down his drink.
“Ask me what?” Steve felt an inkling of something. It better not be the inevitable dread of yet another relationship falling into ruin.
“N-Nothing!” Eddie coughed, clearly regretting his improvised beverage.
“Were you about to ask me out, Eds?” Steve wished he could smack himself for even asking the words aloud. But the vodka made him loose and a little braver than he usually was.
Eddie tugged a lock of hair over his mouth. He looked even more red than the tomato juice. He murmured something under his breath.
“What’s that?” Steve leaned in closer. Their breaths mingled together. They both smelled nasty but hey, Steve had some odd things awakening inside of him since meeting Eddie.
“Yes…” Eddie spoke more clearly, barely looking at him.
“Yes what?”
Eddie groaned. Then he straightened up, clamped his hands on both sides of Steve’s face, and cried out, “I’ve been wanting to go out with you for a very long time, Steve!”
And then Eddie surged forward to kiss him.
Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s torso as he tasted the sharp tangs of vodka and pineapple. He pushed Eddie’s hips back, holding him against the table counter.
Robin screeched, “DON’T MAKE OUT ON THE TABLE!”
Steve probably would have flipped her off, but he had a more important task in hand and that was pushing his tongue down Eddie’s throat and hearing his soft moans.
Until some cold water sprayed at his face.
“Hey-!” Steve broke away, only to be nearly blinded by more water. Next to him, Eddie hissed like a cat.
Jeff stood in front of them with a spray bottle in hand. He looked clearly done with their shit while Robin seemed to be either laughing her ass off or performing an exorcism on herself.
“This was supposed to maintain your sobriety, but I think you two can just go to horny jail instead.”
#the klaus birthday special#klaus writes#klaus answers#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#jeff stranger things#stranger things
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Here we go. It’s a long one.
My aunt is dying. Any day now, her son told the family. So, everyone flocked to see her, including mom, which entailed a 17-hour train ride from San Diego to Sacramento. My brother and I usually meet up in Bakersfield to deliver the momster because she refuses to fly and now refuses to take the train. Of course, doing the Bakersfield thing is a pain, especially if you’re not a morning person because I have to leave by 4:30 am to make sure I’m in Bakersfield by 10. Now, really, I’m glad for it in the end because I’m back home by 2:30-3p.
This time around, mom had to take the train because she was afraid her sister would die before she got to see her. So, mom was insistent she had to leave asap, which meant no Bakersfield trip since my brother and I had to work.
Easy-peasy.
That is, except this last weekend. Mom arrived Friday night near midnight (17-hour train ride, remember?). The next day we see Auntie Sally. That night, I go to the birthday celebration for me, the kid, and grandkid. Mom didn’t want to go.
Anyway.
I assumed my brother and I would meet up in Bakersfield the following weekend, which is a-ok. I have plenty of time to rest and mentally rev myself for the trip, which is something I need to do. Otherwise, without this precious time, I don’t handle it well.
Guess what? Mom wants to leave the next day. I’m like, wait, what? But, I just say ok and quietly freak out inside. This really changes everything. I tell my granddaughter, who is staying the weekend with me to shower at night, that all she has to do is roll out of bed the next am and get in the car where she can sleep.
Easy-peasy, right?
Except, when we arrive in Bakersfield, my brother is not at our meeting place. He’s always there first - always. The guy is an extreme morning person, up every day by 4am. In fact, I thought it was weird that he didn’t call once asking me for an update of my progress.
Long story short. I know, too late.
He thought the mom delivery wasn’t taking place until the following weekend. I was thinking, ok, we’ll head back home and try this again next weekend. But mom? No way. She refuses to go and suggests I leave her there to wait for my brother. Really? Like, I’d do that, and she knows I’d never do that.
So, after drinking a lot of beverages, shopping at WalMart and Nordstrom’s Rack, my brother arrives. He must have booked it because what’s usually almost a 5-6 hour drive, he made it in 3.
The grandkid and me were home by 6:30. I apologized to her for how the day went. She said, what a day! I agreed. We really didn’t get to spend quality time together. I was supposed to take her home that night, but I was so exhausted that I asked if the kid could take her instead, which she did.
The last-minute trip was hard on me. I remember the days when I could drive in a pinch no problem! Those days are gone. I missed work on Monday to recuperate. Ya, this old gal ain’t what she used to be.
And now, I need to get ready for work.
Thx for reading.
Have a good day :)
Toods!
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The Uninvited (RWBY Crossover Shitpost)
(Loosely inspired by @brokentrafficknight's Pyrrha birthday posts)
Noel: "Weiss? Have you seen Jaune around--?"
*Noel Vermillion blinks, taking notice of Weiss being without her team...only accompanied by Neptune Vasilias*
Noel: *blinks* "Where's your team?"
Weiss: *irritated* "Apparently, they ditched me to head to Pyrrha's birthday party at SchneeWorld!"
Neptune: "Weiss, I'm sure it was a mix-up."
Weiss: "In reality: Yang, Blake, or Sun 'forgot' my invitation!"
Neptune: "Oh, c'mon! I'm sure neither of 'em would do that to ya."
Noel: *blinks, pondering* "Hold on...Makoto, Tsubaki, Tao, and even Ragna left for SchneeWorld..."
Weiss: *looks at Noel* "Wait, you don't mean--?!"
Shallot: *barging in* "WEISS! We have a problem! My teachers and their families got kidnapped!"
Tifa: *annoyed, walking in after him* "Uh, yeah...not that conclusion, 'genius'. I thought Shinra did the same thing when my friends weren't around...until I remembered what day it was."
Bleiss: *stomps in* "THAT CEREAL CUNT PURPOSEFULLY 'FORGOT' MY INVITE!"
Shallot: "Wait? Invite?" *thinks* "I DIDN'T GET AN INVITE TO SNOWLAND?!"
Weiss: "SchneeWorld, you dunce! And I highly doubt she would invite you or my trollop of a twin to her party!"
Bleiss: "Yet you're here with us, bitch."
Neptune: *looks around* "Wait...I didn't get an invite either!"
Tifa: *annoyed* "I'm sensing a pattern here."
????: "HELP!!"
*Shantae, in elephant form, comes crashing through the wall, shifting back to her humanoid form*
Shantae: *groaning* "Somebody please stop 'em...."
*Ryuko & Satsuki come barging through the fresh hole, fighting one another*
Ryuko: "WHERE'S MAKO?! WHAT DID YA DO WITH HER?!"
Satsuki: "I DIDN'T KIDNAP THAT IMBECILE!!"
Tifa: *grabbing both girls* "Ladies, ladies!" *bonks their heads together* "Enough!"
Ryuko: *rubs her head* "Ow! The fuck, Bar Boobs?!"
Satsuki: *rubs her temple* "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't disembowel you for that?!"
Shantae: *slowly getting up, deadpan* "....Mako went to Pyrrha's party and neither of you was invited."
Ryuko: "THE FUCK?! THAT BITCH!"
Satsuki: *scoffs, sheathing Bakuzan* "Which one? The imbecile or the spartan?"
Ryuko: "PYRRHA! Who do you think?!"
Neptune: "Okay...makes sense why you guys weren't invited...but why me?! I'm a handsome face that any babe would invite parties to. Why would a sexy gladiator lady not let me come?"
Weiss: *clears her throat* "AHEM!"
Neptune: "What?"
Bleiss: *shakes her head* "Such boyfriend material, Frost Tits."
Weiss: "Oh, be quiet!"
Jessica: *knocking on the window from outside* "Guys? Did we miss the party?"
Korra: *outside* "Don't tell me your invites got 'misplaced' too?"
Lucy: *outside* "Hold on...YOU MEAN WE GOT LEFT BEHIND ON PURPOSE?!" *wails*
Shallot: "So...this wasn't an accident?"
Bleiss: "NO SHIT, CAVE ALEIN!"
#writblr#pyrrha birthday#crossover#crossover au#crossover shitpost#avatar: the legend of korra#blazblue#dragon ball#fairy tail#dc comics#dc universe#final fantasy vii#kill la kill#rwby#shantae half genie hero#weiss schnee#neptune vasilias#noel vermillion#shallot#tifa lockhart#lucy heartfilia#jessica cruz#korra#ryuko matoi#satsuki kiryuin#shantae#text#text post#fanfiction#fanfic
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Happy Birthday to one of my favorite writers!! I hope it was a good one. If you’re still doing drabbles my one word prompt to you is “funfetti” because that is synonymous with birthday imo 🥳
Thank you so much!
Between them, William sleeps fitfully, his scrawny colt-like leg poking out of the covers and twitching into Scully’s ankle. He is almost as tall as she is. Mulder had moved a nightlight into the bedroom when the boy had come in at 2 am, complaining of a sore throat. In the weak light, Scully can see a sheen of fever-sweat over his brow. It’s almost time for Ibuprofen.
He’d shown no tell-tale signs of impending illness earlier in the day, was full of the boundless energy of 9, and had spent the morning holed up with Mulder in the garage tinkering with the old lawnmower. He’d asked for a triple-decker PB&J for lunch and then begged Scully to help him make funfetti cupcakes even though he still had grease under his fingernails. He’d somehow convinced Mulder to let him eat four. If anything she’d have guessed an upset stomach, but here they are with what is likely strep.
From William’s other side Mulder sighs in his sleep, shifting on the narrow bit of mattress not taken over by his son. A moment later, Scully hears the same gentle sigh from William. Then it’s a sniff, then a cough, and then a feeble “Mom?”
“Shh, it’s okay.” She reaches out to feel his forehead, then the soft, taut skin of his back. The fever is still there, but low grade. “It’s time for Ibuprofen,” she says softly, unable to keep herself from sliding her hand up his back to finger the ducktail of hair at the base of his skull.
“Okay,” the boy says. He’s old enough to take pills but still prefers the cherry stuff.
“I’ll get it,” Mulder rumbles, and slides out of bed, coming back a minute later holding the little cup. He clicks on his bedside light then throws a tee shirt over the top of it when Will squints uncomfortably at the brightness.
In the hazy, muted light, the boy sits up and throws back the medicine.
“I have Little League tomorrow.”
Scully glances at the clock. 5:45. He has Little League today.
“I’ll call your coach,” she says, already cataloging the other things she needs to do: schedule an appointment with the pediatrician, call the school, see if Barr can take her 9:00 am autopsy.
“But we’re playing the Blue Jays,” the boy whines. “They need my bat.” His last word is cut off by a short burst of coughing.
“It’s still spring ball, bud,” Mulder says gently. “You guys aren’t going to miss the playoffs if you miss one game.”
“They'll lose without me,” he says sullenly.
The boy is probably right, but arguing the statistical probability of a win or loss of the Farr’s Corner U-10 Tigers without William Mulder’s bat is not something she’s willing to get into before 6:00 am.
“You need to try to get some more sleep,” she says.
The boy settles back into the pillows unhappily.
Mulder turns off the light and pulls on the tee shirt that was covering it and Scully thinks about the bulb-warmed fabric sliding over his skin.
He comes around to her side of the bed and squeezes her elbow with a smile and then shuffles down the dusty hallway toward the kitchen.
Beside her, William turns over and sighs into her arm, his body going gradually limp with sleep. The clock beside her flicks another minute higher, then another.
She smells the warm tang of coffee and the boy beside her shifts and the sky turns the barest pink and the Earth spins, spins, spins.
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Don't Wanna Be Torn
1 2 3 4
Jason lay on his bed, staring at his stained ceiling as he tossed a stress ball. He hadn't gone to see Isabel or the twins. Not yet. Not when he had Gabby's words swirling in his head like a maelstrom. Not when he had to make another choice that would shake his foundations. In hindsight, he should've thought about the first foundation-shaking choice more deeply. He probably would've been able to still be happy with Y/n.
Y/n... Not a day had gone by that she wasn't on his mind. The true object of his affection. He missed the catch, and the plushy ball landed on his face with a soft thunk. A light huff escaped his nostrils, and he just laid there, eyes closed. Basking in the silence. Images of Y/n flashed in his mind. His heart is aching for her.
When the image of her laughing with Conner shot forth, his lids opened abruptly. Of course. Even in his own mind, there is no peace. He should be used to that by now. His mind has never been a place of comfort. Y/n probably wouldn't be happy if he came running back to her. Uprooting the work she's taken to heal her hurt. He wouldn't forgive himself, either.
He sat up, the stress ball rolling down his face as he did so. He stared at it for a moment. It was a stupid gift from Roy. He'd gotten it at the at the last minute for one of his birthdays. Jason hardly celebrates such a day. But this stupid two-dollar toy from a nearby gift store was all that remained. He didn't fully understand why, but he cherished the ball. When Roy gave it to him, he said, don't forget to think about you. Jason had since taken it everywhere.
He stuffed it in his pocket with a centering huff. "Time to face the music." He wasn't at all enthusiastic about what he was going to do. But almost thirty minutes later, he was outside Isabel's hospital room.
He takes a breath. And another. The haze in his mind cleared, but his heart seemed to constrict. His hands were getting clammy as he reached to open the door. He swallowed when he saw Isabel sitting between the twins incubators.
Isabel's face lights up when she notices him. "Jay! Hi, I didn't think you were coming."
He grabbed the nearest chair and dragged it to the foot of her bed. "Hey, Isabel. How are you? You feeling okay after everything?"
"Yeah, it was a surprise, but myself and our babies are fine." She took a sip of the little orange juice cup.
He nods with a barely noticeable, somber smile on his face. "Good, I'm glad."
Silence quickly invades the room. It steals the air of normalcy and creates a smog of tension. Isabel's eyes seem to be trained on her juice cup. Jason's were fixed on her.
And they stay like that for what feels like hours to Isabel. She huffs in annoyance and looks back at him. Her face is scrounged in an awkward mix of apprehension and annoyance. "She told you, right? Gabby? About that guy?"
Jason snorts and grabs one of her juice cups, poking a straw into the top before taking a drink. Isabel watches with a growing pit in her stomach.
"I don't wanna cause you too much stress, so I'll get to the point." He started when she finished the small drink and placed it back on the table. "I know they're not mine."
"Jaso--"
"I think you've said more than enough these past months. It is absolutely shit that you derailed the trajectory of my life to make me play father to someone else's kids.
"Jason, please--"
"Not done." He levels his oceanic blues into her, through her. "I was prepared to marry her. She was it for me. And you stole that life from me."
To her, he is scarily calm. He should be yelling. Yelling would be less stressful. Even if it woke the twins, she would prefer his anger to... whatever the hell he was giving her. If the twins suddenly woke, they would have no choice but to end this conversation.
"I will never forgive you for that. It hurt me, but more importantly, it hurt Y/n. And she deserves so much more." He could feel the heat of his pain welling up. He took a deep breath. "I'm not upset about that guy. I never said we were official. From the start, I was only here for the twins. I would've helped, Isabel. You were my friend. I would've helped if you asked."
"Were?" She involuntarily questions.
"After all this, there's no way we can maintain the relationship we once had."
The tears pooling in her sapphires spilled over. "Jason, please, I'm sorry."
He stands and stretches. "M'gonna call in some favors. Get you set for when you leave."
"Jason..."
"If you need anything for the twins, and I doubt you will, you have my number. But only for the twins. I won't respond to anything else, and if you try to trick me, I'll cut you off completely." He opens the door and says, "Goodbye, Isabel."
...
At the gala, Conner let Y/n know what he'd said to Jason. He described it as childish and stupid, and he was very sorry. And he dropped to his knees and begged her not to ghost him or something.
It was super embarrassing, but also incredibly hilarious. Such a huge guy was on his knees, begging for forgiveness, and putting on such a show. She laughed, genuinely and heartily as she pulled him up. She gave him another shot, but he had to work double time if he wanted her to be with him. He was more than happy to agree, of course.
From then on, he'd been attached at the hip to her. She didn't mind; she liked having him work so hard for her. She wished Jason had done the same. They wouldn't be in the mess they currently find themselves.
Not that she actually knew what he was going through. She just knew that chick would be a hand full. If she wasn't pregnant, she'd have hit her. And she definitely would've deserved it.
Thinking about her made Y/n's blood boil. So she stopped. And maybe that's what she's needed all along. To just stop. Though her heart aches for Jason, his sense of responsibility takes him elsewhere. And even if he were to come back...
The thought of leaving Conner pulled her full lips down and made her stomach swirl in the worst way. He felt comforting and warm. A feeling that wasn't new to her but was severely missed. Like he was hot tea on a bitterly cold night.
"Y/n?"
She looked up from idly circling her martini glass rim. "Hm?"
"You okay? Seem a bit lost."
"Just a bit of thinking."
"Not about boys. Pleeaase not about boys," Shana whined childishly.
Y/n puckered her lips, her head turning up a bit and away, her eyes going back to her friend like a puppy that made a mess of the trash. Shana chuckled and elbowed her lightly. "Because of course you are," she said, rolling her eyes. "So, what's the problem this time?"
Y/n shrugs, taking a sip of her martini. "There isn't one. I think I'm finally moving on from Jason."
Shana's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and her lips pursed. "Yeah, alright."
"I'm serious. No gotcha's. But listen, I have a question."
"Shoot."
"What would you say if I said I was thinking about moving to Metropolis?"
Shana's eyes go wide, completely confounded, as she stares into Y/n's soul. "Perdeste a cabeça?! You didn't even move on Jason this fast! Did that super freak brainwash you?" Shana snatches her head up and examines it with her magic.
Y/n shoves her off. "Shana, girl, I love you, but if you ever put your hands on me like that again, I'ma forget you my best friend."
Shana is still looking at her as if she's hiding something, to which Y/n rolls her eyes. "I'm not going for Conner, fucking duh."
"Then why?"
"I may or may not have been aiming for a spot on the Justice League for the past few years."
Shana freezes for a moment, scrutinizing her for a moment. After a minute, she snorts and then bursts into laughter. "You're kidding, right?"
Y/n's lip quirks up in a frown, and she plucks her on the forehead. "Here I was talking about something other than the men in my life, and here you are being an ass."
"Ow, okay," Shana says, rubbing the spot where she plucked. "Sorry, geez."
"Anyway, Superman and a few others wanna hold interviews, and they want me to do some kinda trial run in Metropolis."
"Why? You're great at what you do."
"Yes, but am I JL great? That's what they wanna find out. Besides, I never planned on staying in Gotham for so long. I think my true calling is Manhattan, anyway."
"Why am I just finding out about this anyway?
"Because you have close relations with the Batfamily."
"Batfamily? What the fuck? Where did that BS name come from?"
It was Y/n's turn to scrutinize Shana. "Batfamily? You not bouta tell me you've never heard that before."
"Should I have?"
"Literally everyone says it."
"No, they don't."
"Yes, they do."
"Nuh uh."
"Yuh huh."
"Nuh uh."
"I'm not doing this with your ass right now." She downs the rest of her drink and gathers her things. "Pay for this martini, and I swear I'll spot you later."
"We both know that's a lie, but sure, get outta here. Amo-te, desarrumado." They kiss each other on the cheeks, and Y/n departs.
As Y/n is walking to her apartment, she has the misfortune of running into a couple of low-level criminals trying to steal a car.
"You know, I don't think that's yours."
"And I think you'd best move along." He pulls a gun on her, but she is unphased by it. "Less you wanna be a victim to this crime."
"I bet you thought you ate that one." The criminals look up just as a figure falls from the sky and lands on one of them.
Y/n knew that physique well. It used to embrace her while she cooked breakfast at three in the morning. Shield her from the demons that plagued her in the dark. That voice that whispered sweet nothings when he thought she was sleeping. That voice that chortled mockingly at something that she hadn't meant as a joke, but she joined in the mirth. And when those eyes landed on her, she could feel the moment he first told her, I love you.
And just for a moment, she wanted to run into his arms and say it back. Just for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to feel all those things again.
"Can we talk?"
"I really don't want to do that."
"Please, Y/n?"
She had to look away from him. The slight tremble in his tone as he pleaded, the glossy bit of hope that seemed to fill his eyes overwhelmed her. Even with his mask on, she still knew him so well.
She crossed her arms tightly over her abdomen, her hands cradling her biceps protectively. She huffs and does nothing else, but Jason quickly deals with the criminals and calls the police.
She follows him to his motorcycle, where he puts her helmet on her, making sure it's secure. She wraps her arms around his midsection, and he pats her hands twice. The whole exchange is silent, and the ride follows suit. As well as the climb to the roof of the clock tower, where Jason walks behind her, ready to catch her.
Both hearts hammer in their chests. Both minds fuzzy and anxious. Hands fiddling with each other.
Above them, the stars twinkle and glitter. Their own conversations endless. She wondered what they spoke of. If the language they used ever became a hindrance to them.
Jason took a seat just a bit behind her. His arms were propped up on his knees as he gazed at her. He swallowed, and his mouth opened, but nothing came out. His teeth clenched and his jaw set, his brows furrowing while he scrutinized the way her eyes shimmered in the moonlight.
"Just like stars." He murmured abruptly.
And when she turned those eyes on him, he felt his breath catch. The world seemed to slow along with his heart. A wave of serenity washed over him.
"Hm?"
"Your eyes. They always remind me of stars."
Warmth fills her face, and her nose tingles. "O-oh, I-- th-thank you." Just as her words her heart stutters. Because, of course, he can make her feel just like a schoolgirl confessing to her crush.
"I miss you, Y/n." He closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips and a weight lifting from his shoulders. "I miss you so damn much."
She bites her bottom lip to keep from saying it back. She takes a deep breath through her nostrils and blinks away tears. A war started in her the moment she saw him. And she was determined not to succumb to it.
She looks away. Back out at the plagued city below. "You wanted to talk. So talk."
His head hangs, a tired breath escaping his lips. "The kids turned out to not be mine.
Her heart picks up pace, and her head whips back around to him. Brows slowly knit together, her bottom lip quivering with her shakey breath. "Kids?"
He explains everything that's led up to this moment. "I won't pretend I'm not entirely hurt and disappointed by this. I just—I want you back. I was an idiot to ever leave you."
He lets his words sink in a bit, and they do sink in. They permeate and invade. She feels... dizzy? Dazed?
Her mind is fuzzy, and her loud heart is beating her ears. And his words--.
Gently, his hands cupped her face, soft like petals to his touch. His eyes, intense, warm, and focused drink in her own, uneasy, anticipating, and longing. His lips quirked up slightly on the right, strained and bittersweet. He brought her forehead down to his lips, planting a lingering kiss, then pulled her into an encompassing embrace.
"I'm sorry... I can't seem to stay away from you."
And she was sorry, too. She didn't want him to stay away. Fuck.
~~~
damn part 5. I remember when I said this would be no more than 5 parts... welp
Tags: @b4tm4nn @iyuuii @jaguarthecat @rhyanna6012
#jason todd#red hood#jason todd imagine#red hood imagine#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#dc universe imagines#conner kent x reader#if you squint#original post#glori imagine
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Just finished binging the Fallout tv show and 🤯 I've got so many thoughts running through this little brain of mine. So here's a very long rant no one asked for. Maybe I'll make a more digestible version later. Obviously SPOILERS AHEAD!!! Be warned!
First off - the lore. So many interesting things were added into the lore by this show that I find so fascinating, as well as theories I've had that were touched upon. All of which makes this very exciting but also leaves me DESPERATE for season two. The main thing that has really stuck with me is the confirmation that Vault-Tec were the ones to drop the bombs like hello??? I've always had an inkling ever since I started delving into fallout lore a good year or two ago that they were behind everything, but finally having it confirmed is so fun. Of course, some people out there are going to be irritated (L take) but this imo will make replays so much more interesting. Same with the addition of ghouls needing medication to keep from becoming feral. Although this begs some questions; what is the medicine? Is it just radaway, or something else entirely? Maybe it's connected to whatever Hancock used to ghoulify himself? Or maybe it's connected to Doctor Barrows' research into ghouls fom Fallout 3? Idk! But I hope it's answered in season 2.
Cooper being the inspiration behind the iconic vault boy mascot absolutely gagged me. It was kinda hinted at even in the beginning at the kids birthday party but I was still surprised. Pleasantly, of course. Other smaller things, like the BOS branding and helmets opening up, among other things, were also fun touches that develop the lore in ways that the games probably never would have. It's small things like this that despite livening up the wasteland, would be unnecessary uses of resources from a game-development standpoint. So I think if season 2 ends up being a banger like season 1, we could see a lot more tiny additions to the lore like this!
Secondly - the characters. I don't even know where to start. They were written so well which is such a critical part of a good series. Lucy, despite everything she goes through, stays true to her morals and by doing so, probably unknowingly, is changing those around her. Despite being stubborn, she's willing to listen and understand other viewpoints and adapt herself. It's so refreshing to see a main female lead who isn't written as either weak and naive or strong and boneheaded; she'd a perfect mix of both. I also appreciate them not making her a total push over, even in the beginning before she is given any reason to change. She grows, but never fails to stay true to herself. Plus the whole sex positive thing is an amazing touch to add as well, especially for a woman.
And while on this topic, Maximus is such a cutie pie. Writing characters that are selflessly aligned can definitely be a hit or miss, and without properly being fleshed out, can be one-dimensional, but I never felt that way with him. Despite trying to help others and be a good person, he still has flaws and does feels selfish things. They took the trope of the knight in shining armor, literally, and gave him actual human characteristics that made him feel real. Underneath his heroic demeanor, he's just a little guy who likes slippers and vault popcorn. Who just wants to be somewhere safe away from war and danger, to be where he can just relax and not have to worry. And his romance arc with Lucy is just way too cute. From the moment they met in Filly I knew something was going to happen and I was so excited when they finally kissed lmao. The sweet, innocent love at first sight thing they have going on is the perfect dichotomy to all the bloodshed and heavy themes going on in the rest of the show.
And finally, Cooper is reviving the inner ghoul lover in me and I cannot complain at all. As a certified Hancock lover, I feel seen ✋ also Walton Goggins is just incredibly fine. But that's besides the point. His character is arguably the best written because despite being an undeniably evil person, he is still likeable. 200 years have turned him into a man who had to lose his humanity to survive, and the pre-war flashbacks being shown through his eyes give him, and the story, so much depth. Despite his ways, you can't help but still feel for him, to still root for him and hope that he still has a little bit of that humanity left within him. Which imo was shown multiple times; for example him not killing Maximus in episode two even though he easily could have done so. And the fact that he's still searching for his family all these years later? When he was asked what has been keeping him going so long, I think they are his reason. Whether he is searching to reunite or to exact revenge on Barb for dropping the bombs while him and Janey were outside idk. But it makes his story all the more heartbreaking. I also love the writing for Norm, Moldaver, Dane, and so many others, but this is already too long ass it is.
Overall, this series was so good and I'll be impatiently awaiting season 2! Some things I'm hoping to see next seasons are super mutants for sure, as well as synths and more of the enclave. I think they went easy this season to test the waters and see just how interested people are. And now that they know people are very interested, I think they'll be more willing to invest a larger budget, and add more. Rant over!
#fallout#fallout show#fallout series#fallout prime#fallout tv series#cooper howard#lucy maclean#maximus fallout#fallout series spoilers#fallout spoilers#fallout amazon#fallout ghoul
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February 13th, 1924, London, England
Multiple friends had wanted to throw a large birthday party, but Byron had refused. 29 wasn’t a special age, and in truth, he did not want another reminder that he was entering the last of his twenties. Instead, he selected a restaurant he knew Montgomery would complain about and invited the Misses Balass and Patel for additional company.
“I am unsure if Samira will come,” Byron mused over a glass of wine. “When I telegrammed her last, she was still in India and said she would not return until the middle of the month.”
Montgomery frowned. “I hope yer wrong.”
“You like her then?”
He nodded.
Eleroa sighed. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but she won’t be in England until the end of the month. She wants to spend some time with a cousin in Hungary.”
As they ate, a new dilemma reached the back of Byron’s mind: Who was he going home with? Perhaps it was a selfish desire, but he thought he was allowed to feel as such. It was his birthday, after all.
“Does yer father know that ya eat pork?” Montgomery asked Eleora, eyeing the Beef Wellington on her plate.
“Do your socialist and communist friends know you spend most of your free time with a duke?”
Byron snorted.
The Scot pushed up his glasses and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to clean me glasses.”
“Is that just a polite way to say you need to use the loo?”
He blushed but did not answer, walking away.
Eleora shook her head, turning her head back to Byron. “I’ve been trying to get into that doctor’s trousers ever since my family began to see him.”
If he had been drinking, he was sure he would have choked. “Eleora!”
“What? Don’t tell me you don’t think him handsome. At first, I thought he was still in mourning over his wife, but now, I think he unfortunately must have some moral qualms about sleeping with patients. Or he’s fearful of my father. Likely both.”
“He is you and your father’s doctor. It’s a place of power that can be abused easily.”
“That makes it more fun,” She laughed, leaning forward. “You’re much closer than widowed in-laws I think would be. Is there something else? I certainly wouldn’t blame you.”
If it were anyone else, Byron would have froze with fear and adamantly denied it. “I can never understand how you read me so well.”
She shrugged. “I have intuition. …Actually, I saw you two kissing rather passionately at the last party we went to.”
“I see. Perhaps I should have said something prior.”
“It’s alright. You’re the not only one who enjoys the company of the same sex.” Eleora lowered her voice. “Samira and I sometimes lay together. She prefers women, so her current infatuation with Montgomery has been most amusing to me. And makes me rather jaundiced and want to fuck him more.”
Byron smirked. “Well, he’s very talented with his hands,” he whispered, leaning forward so only she would hear his words, “and his tongue.”
Eleora laughed and playfully pushed him away. “You shouldn’t make me think of that in a public place, Byron.”
“Think of what?” Montgomery asked, returning to the table.
Eleora suddenly sighed and held her hand to her head. “Oh, doctor, I do think I coming down with a most tremendous headache. It is much too loud here.”
The amused look on his face turned into one of concern and professionalism. Gone was Montgomery, and here was Dr. MacGregor. “Yer apartment is not far from here, aye? I’ll make ya specific tea and see what else ya’ve got.”
“I’ll foot the bill,” Byron muttered, wondering what the woman had planned.
#wonder whats gonna happened 🫣#the walshes#the walsh legacy#ts4#the sims 4#sims 4#sims 4 decades#sims 4 historical#sims 4 decades challenge#sims 4 history challenge#history simblr#ts4 historical#ts4 decades challenge#ts4 1920s#1920s#byron walsh#montgomery macgregor#eleora balass
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silly mirabel doodles (someone please give her a break.)
#encanto#encanto doodles#i will kiss her#i jus wanna wwpsoakjo#live laugh mirabel madrigal#mirabel madrigal#mirabel fanart#this is me making up for missing her birthday
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ALT
shadow study because i missed his birthday yesterday
sonic study
#artists on tumblr#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#sth#shadow the hedgehog#shadow#sketchbook#my art#astrophysician#really needed this. i feel like i forgot how to draw him#my friend sent me the shadow vs. harry dubois sadboy poll#and i voted against shadow cause harry is just so pathetic but i went into the shadow tag to make up for it#only to find that i had failed him again because I MISSED HIS BIRTHDAY#rouge's too.. i will get to her someday#anyway i'm really happy with this especially the colors :)
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