#Because they care about him raising him loving him for who he is and that no matter what his origins are

[wolverigrl]

Scorched Earth

Logan Howlett x mutant reader

!Disclaimer! Y/n is a mutant with the same skills as the human torch! Let me know if you'd like to read another part!

Warnings: mentioning of alcohol and death, angst

Enjoy!

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“Bobby, for real, you can’t possibly think that’s better than mine!” I laughed, leaning back on the chair in the kitchen, feet propped up on the table. Across from me, my brother grinned, folding his arms over his chest with that cocky smirk of his.

“You’re just jealous I got the better nickname.” Bobby replied, his voice light, teasing. “Iceman? It’s sleek, it’s cool - literally - and it fits me.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Oh, please. ‘Iceman’ sounds like the title of some second-rate action movie. Meanwhile, I’m lighting up the sky over here.”

Bobby raised a brow, feigning offense. “That’s a lot of talk from someone who’s still stuck with ‘Firecracker.’ ”

I punched him lightly on the arm. “I’ll take ‘Firecracker’ any day over your ‘cool’ puns.”

Our banter was easy, the kind that came naturally after years of being siblings. Bobby had always been the steady one, the one who could calm everyone down with a joke, while I was the hothead - pun intended - never one to back down from a challenge. It’s what made us a good team, even if we drove each other crazy half the time.

The way he carried himself, his calm demeanor, and his unwavering sense of control over his powers - everything I wasn't.

I was the fire to his ice, the chaos to his calm. We clashed often, but it wasn’t because we didn’t care. It was because we cared too much. And despite all the bickering, all the teasing, there was a bond between us that no one could break. I’d die for him. He was my anchor when my temper flared, my tether to reality when my powers spiraled out of control.

Just as I was about to throw another sarcastic remark his way, Logan walked into the room, his usual gruff self. He barely acknowledged us, heading straight for the fridge. Typical.

“Hey, Logan!” I called, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “Did you finally get that stick outta your ass, or is it still lodged in there pretty good?”

Logan froze mid reach for a beer, then slowly turned his head, giving me the look - the one that said 'I am not in the mood for your crap right now, bub.' But that just made it more fun.

“Don’t you have somethin’ better to do, hotshot?” he growled, slamming the fridge shut and twisting the cap off his beer with more force than necessary. “Or do you just live to run your mouth?”

I smirked, unfazed. “You know, it’s funny you say that, because I’ve noticed you love listening to me. Maybe it’s because no one else has the guts to call you out on your eternal grumpiness?”

Bobby snickered from beside me, enjoying the show. “She’s got a point, man. You’re not exactly known for your sunny disposition.”

Logan shot Bobby a glare before turning his attention back to me. “Maybe I’m grumpy ‘cause some people around here don’t know when to shut up.”

“Oh, come on, Logan. You’d miss me if I didn’t poke at you every now and then.” I said, leaning forward with a grin. “Admit it - you secretly love the banter.”

Logan let out a low, frustrated growl, shaking his head as he took a long swig from his beer. “The day I admit that, is the day hell freezes over. And even then, I’ll blame Bobby.”

Bobby grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t drag me into your weird dynamic. I’m just the innocent bystander.”

I shot Bobby a mock glare. “Innocent? You? Yeah, sure. Tell that to the last five people you pranked.”

Logan huffed, clearly done with the conversation, but I wasn’t quite finished yet. “You know, Logan.” I continued, leaning back again and stretching my arms behind my head, “You really oughta work on that sunny disposition. You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles with all that frowning.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, jaw clenching. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and keep that fire of yours under control?”

“Oh, I keep it very controlled, thank you very much.” I said, flashing a smile. “Besides, you seem to enjoy living dangerously. Why else would you keep hanging around us?”

Logan shook his head, muttering something under his breath before retreating to his usual corner of the room, beer in hand, grumbling the entire way. Bobby leaned in toward me, his voice low enough so only I could hear.

“I still think you’re his favorite.”

I laughed quietly, watching Logan brood from across the room. “Nah, he just hasn’t figured out how to handle all of this yet.” I gestured to myself with a playful smirk.

“Sure, that’s what it is.” Bobby chuckled, leaning back with a relaxed sigh.

Despite Logan’s gruff attitude and my constant teasing, there was a kind of unspoken respect between us. He was the first to step in when things got dangerous, always willing to put himself on the line for the team. And even though he’d never admit it, I knew he appreciated having someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge him, to call him out when he was being extra cranky. In a way, it kept things balanced.

Bobby and I exchanged another look, both of us knowing exactly how this dynamic worked. I teased Logan, Logan growled, and the world kept spinning. It was our version of normal - a delicate balance of sarcasm, snark, and the occasional grumpy Wolverine glare.

It was one of those rare moments when everything felt light, even if just for a little while. Days like these, with Bobby teasing me, and Logan grumbling from across the room, were the best. I’d give anything to hold onto them.

But life as an X-Men had a way of reminding you that those moments could be fleeting.

And I didn’t know then just how fleeting they would be.

Todays mission was supposed to be a standard takedown. Another mutant extremist group, radicalized and bent on 'mutant supremacy'. Charles had briefed us thoroughly, and we had faced worse before. Or at least we thought we had.

It went south almost immediately. We were outnumbered, and it was clear that our enemies had intel we weren’t prepared for. They knew where we would be, how we would strike, and worse - they knew how to separate us. That was when things really started to fall apart.

The battlefield was a mess of chaos and screaming. Blasts of energy, ice, and fire lit up the sky, while the air howled with the sound of Storm’s winds tearing through enemy lines. I was a blur of fire and fury, every step a combustion of flame as I ripped through the chaos, throwing up walls of fire to keep enemies at bay. But no matter how hard we fought, there were too many. We were getting spread thin. Too thin.

I caught sight of Bobby ahead of me, just in time to see him raise an enormous ice wall to shield a group of our teammates. His back was to me, and before I could shout a warning, a blast from one of the enemy’s weapons slammed into him, sending him sprawling across the ground.

“Bobby!” I screamed, my heart lurching.

He struggled to get up, one knee bent, but the blast had been too much. His walls of ice began to crack and crumble around him. Panic rose in my throat like bile. He was surrounded, the enemies closing in.

I pushed forward, flames erupting from my palms as I blasted through the mob, trying to reach him. “Hang on, I’m coming!” I shouted, but my voice barely cut through the cacophony of combat.

But I wasn’t fast enough.

Before I could get to him, a second blast hit him. The impact was devastating. I saw his body jerk violently before he collapsed, crumpling like a rag doll on the cold, scorched ground. Time seemed to slow, my breath caught in my throat, and everything else faded away.

“No!” My scream tore from my chest, broken and raw, but there was nothing I could do.

He was still, too still.

I scrambled toward him, my flames fizzling out as I dropped to my knees beside his body. I reached out, hands trembling as I gently touched his face. His skin was cold, colder than it should have been. His chest didn’t rise. His eyes were closed. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I couldn't hear anything except the roaring silence in my own head.

He was gone.

“Bobby, please…” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please don’t leave me.”

I don’t know how long I sat there, holding him, begging for him to come back. I couldn’t save him. I. Couldn’t. Save. Him.

Then, something broke inside me.

The grief, the rage, the helplessness - everything surged at once, overwhelming every rational thought. The fire inside me, the power I always tried to control, flared up in an instant. It wasn’t just fire anymore - it was fury, pure and uncontrollable.

Flames erupted from my body, hotter and fiercer than they ever had before. I screamed, the sound ripping through the air as fire exploded in all directions, a supernova of heat and light. The ground beneath me cracked, molten lava seeping from the earth as the intensity of my power burned through everything in its path.

I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to.

The flames raged out, consuming everything they touched. The enemy soldiers who had killed Bobby screamed as they were incinerated, their bodies turning to ash in mere seconds. The ground smoked, trees around us igniting in a blaze, and the air became thick with heat.

Jean’s voice echoed in my mind, faint, as if she was shouting at me from the end of a long tunnel. “Y/n, stop! You have to stop!” Her voice was desperate, but I couldn’t listen. Couldn’t hear her over the roaring firestorm inside me.

Storm tried to summon her winds, pulling clouds thick with rain to douse the flames, but it wasn’t enough. Even the sky couldn’t hold back the inferno that had taken over me. I felt her power strain against mine, but my emotions fueled the fire, making it burn hotter, stronger. I was losing control completely, my body heating up like the core of a star.

“Y/n! You’re going to kill everyone!” Scott shouted through the comm, his voice barely audible over the roaring flames. I could see them, all of them, struggling to get away from the heat, the fire spreading in every direction.

Charles reached out, trying to touch my mind, but I was beyond reach. His calming presence couldn’t get through the thick walls of grief and rage that had consumed me.

I was going to burn everything. Everyone.

Then, through the haze of heat and fire, I saw him.

Logan.

He was moving toward me, slow and steady, ignoring the screams of the others as they begged him to stop.

“Logan, no! You’ll die!” Jean’s voice, frantic, but he didn’t listen.

“Logan, don’t!” Storm shouted, the wind whipping around her, but he kept walking, one foot in front of the other, his eyes locked on mine.

I couldn’t stop the fire. I was too far gone, too lost in my own power. The heat radiated off me in waves, scorching everything in its path, and yet he kept coming.

His skin started to blister almost immediately. The heat was unbearable, even from where I stood. I could see his face contorting in pain, could smell the sickening scent of burning flesh as he got closer. His clothes were already charred, the leather of his jacket melting and fusing to his skin. But he didn’t stop.

I wanted to scream at him to get back, to stop, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was watch in horror as he walked into the flames, his healing factor struggling to keep up as his body was scorched by the heat I was putting off.

And then he was there, standing right in front of me, his skin bright red, his hands trembling as the fire licked at his skin. His face was a mask of pain, sweat and blood mixing with the charred burns that covered his arms and neck. But his eyes, his eyes were steady.

“Y/n.” he said, his voice low and raspy, strained from the pain. “You need to stop.”

“I can’t!” I gasped, my breath catching as the flames flared up again, fueled by the storm of emotions inside me. “I can’t control it. I-I’m going to kill you, Logan!”

“I don’t care!" he growled, taking another step closer, his boots melting into the molten ground. His body trembled, his skin bubbling and cracking under the heat, but he didn’t back down. “I’m not leaving you.”

Tears streamed down my face, evaporating the moment they hit the air.

His eyes locked onto mine, unwavering, even as the flames licked at his skin. His face contorted in pain, but he didn’t stop.

“Bub.” he rasped, his voice hoarse from the heat. “You need to let go. I know it hurts, but you gotta stop.”

I couldn’t hear him over the roar of the fire. I was too far gone. The heat, the flames, my emotions - it was all consuming me. I was a supernova, and there was no pulling back.

Logan took another step. His healing factor was working overtime, but even he couldn’t withstand this for long. Yet, he didn’t hesitate.

“Y/n!” Logan yelled, louder this time, and I felt his words cut through the haze. “I know what it’s like! To lose someone - hell, to lose everyone! You feel like you’re gonna burn up inside. You feel like it’ll never stop, like you’ll never breathe again. But this ain’t the way!”

I felt the fire flare around me, almost as if it were trying to drown out his words. I wanted to listen, but the grief, the rage - it was still so raw. Bobby was gone. How could I stop the fire when everything inside me was screaming to let it burn?

But Logan didn’t back off. He stepped into the heart of the inferno, his arms opening, and wrapped me in a hug. The flames surged as they met his body, and I could feel his skin burning under my touch. I could smell it. His face twisted in agony, but he didn’t pull away.

“Let it out, hotshot. Let it all out,” Logan whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. “But don’t burn yourself with it. You ain’t alone. I’m here.”

I could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breaths ragged from the heat, but his arms around me were steady, grounding. In that moment, the fire faltered, flickering as my mind struggled to grasp what was happening.

Logan - the one person who could barely stand to be in the same room as me without a sarcastic remark - was holding me, burning alive in my fire, all because he wouldn’t leave me alone in my pain.

And then, I felt it.

The fire started to die down, the flames retreating into my skin as I began to sob against his chest. The heat that had consumed me so completely, so violently, began to ebb, leaving behind only the suffocating weight of grief. Logan’s chest was soaked with my tears as I clung to him, my body shaking with the force of my cries.

“I couldn’t save him, Logan." I choked out between sobs. “I couldn’t- ”

“I know." Logan murmured, his voice rough but soothing. “I know, bub. It’s not your fault.”

The last of the flames flickered out, and the air around us was suddenly cooler, still. Logan’s body, still blistered and burnt in places, didn’t move. He just held me tighter, letting me cry into his chest, never once letting go. I buried my face into the fabric of his ruined shirt, his heartbeat the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

After what felt like forever, I became aware of the world around me again. The sounds of the battlefield had quieted. Jean, Storm, and the others were slowly approaching, their faces a mix of worry and relief.

“We need to get back to the mansion,” Scott said, his voice soft but firm. “Y/n, Logan… let’s go.”

Logan didn’t move to let me go, and I didn’t want him to. The thought of being alone right now, without the steady warmth of his presence, was unbearable.

“Can you walk?” Hank asked me.

Logan shook his head, giving a low grunt of pain as he stood up, still cradling me in his arms. “I got her.”

I felt Logan’s arms adjust under me as he began to walk, carrying me like I weighed nothing. I should’ve been worried about him, should’ve told him to let me go, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I pressed my face into his chest, feeling the burn marks on his skin, the roughness of his wounds. He was hurting because of me, but he didn’t care.

The journey back to the mansion felt like a blur, the sounds of the battlefield fading into silence as Logan carried me, step after step, his breathing labored but determined. I clung to him, my body exhausted, but my mind still racing with grief and guilt.

When we finally reached the mansion, Logan carried me straight to my room. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and laid me gently on my bed. His face was tense with pain, but his movements were careful and protective.

I reached out, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave. “Don’t go... please.” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I-I don’t wanna be alone.”

Logan’s eyes softened, just for a moment. He gave a small nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip slightly. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer any more words of comfort, and for that, I was thankful. I didn’t need words. I just needed him to stay.

I curled into his side, my head resting against his chest once again. His heartbeat was slower now, more even, though his body was still warm from the burns. He didn’t flinch when I pressed closer, seeking the comfort of his presence. His arm wrapped around me, holding me close, and for the first time since Bobby died, I felt a small flicker of something like peace.

As I sobbed into Logan’s chest, my body exhausted from the emotional and physical strain, I felt his hand gently stroke my hair. He didn’t say anything, just let me cry. His presence as steady as the heartbeat beneath my cheek.

The tears slowly began to subside, my body relaxing into his as the exhaustion took over. I was grateful for the silence, grateful for the way Logan just was - strong, unyielding, and never pushing me for more than I could give.

Eventually, my eyes grew heavy, the grief and pain pulling me into a restless sleep. The last thing I remembered was the feel of Logan’s hand still in my hair, his quiet strength wrapping around me like a protective shield.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself drift into sleep, safe in his arms.

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[blimpintime]

a jar of wind

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to a end.

warnings: angst, azriel sucks :p and unedited

word count: 1.4k

eventual Eris x OC

“Rhys! You will never believe what I managed to do with my-” I bursted into the kitchen with a warm glow, my green dress flowing around me and headed towards where he was sitting with a cup of tea.

“Wynn, I have been up with Nyx for the past three nights and days with him teething. I would love some silence. Please.” He said with a low voice and eyes closed in annoyance. 

“Oh! Right, yes. Sorry.” I wince, I twirl my finger and use the wind to brush through the mellow sounding wind chimes I have placed around the River House. 

The tension seemed to leave his body, and I placed a sisterly kiss on the top of his head, my ginger bobbed hair layering over his black hair. In doing so I managed to remove the growing headache from him and take it on for myself.

“I didn’t ask you to do that, Wynn.” He said softly.

“I know, but that’s what family is for Rhys.” I respond with a light touch on his shoulder and whisper words of encouragement as I leave. 

As I walked out of the River House where the sun is setting, I ran into Azriel and Cassian. I smile and my subtle pink glow brightens.

“Hello you two!” I say with a wave and notice the grimm look on their body language and my face falls and my glow dims. “What happened, who's hurt?” 

Cassian winces and Azriel gives me a sharp look, “Stay out of it Wynn. You do enough damage as is.” 

I flinch back and the wind around me goes cold, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

He walks closer to me and leans over to get in my face, “It means that whatever magical experiment you tried this time back fired and hurt Elain.”

“What are you talking about?” I whisper back. My mind reels trying to remember if I left a magic trial unattended in the open, but I draw a blank. Unless… 

“She snuck into my cottage?” I question brows furrowing. There was only one trial I left at my house and that was my attempt of getting my wind to play instruments on its own, but wind is finicky and if interrupted incorrectly can cause a spiral of sharp and messy wind.

“Snuck? Wynn, you let everyone into your home all the time, there was no reason to lock your doors.” Cassian responded. I go hot with anger. 

“So just because I host all the time means my house is fair game? There are wards around it for a reason when I am not home. If that is your logic here then allow me to go into your guys home whenever I feel and do what I please.” I snap back.

“You’re being unreasonable Wynn.” Azriel says while rolling his eyes. “It was just Elain. She is harmless.” 

“I do not care who it was Azriel, it is my home. What did she need from me anyway? I just saw her this morning.” I ask him and he storms by me to go inside the house. Cassian and I follow him.

“Rhysand!” Azriel yells. Rhys walks out of the kitchen looking a little better than he did before. 

“Why are we yelling?” He asks.

“Wynn has caused more damage to this court.” Azriel says and I wince back. Rhys turns to look at me with an eyebrow raised. 

I raise my hands in defense.

“Wynn, was it another silly experiment?” Rhys asks. My heart tugs and I nod, and I feel as though I should defend myself. They’re not silly, they are fun.

“Did I do something to personally offend you Azriel?” I ask softly. 

“Yes! Since you’ve shown up to this court all you have done have been attached to the hip with Feyre, surprised she hasn’t told you that you are suffocating. You’re nothing more than an annoying weed.” He spat, “You buzz in and out loudly all the time, you cannot read a room to save your life, your experiments are juvenile and lack actual use, and whenever you shrink down to your pixie form is the only time you're tolerable because we can barely hear you.” He said like a weight has been lifted off his chest. 

I can only stare at him, shock and hurt cover my face. The glow of pink on my body fades down to a low humming blue, and suddenly I am back in that damn jar. 

The jar I am in is hot and stuffy. I do not remember how I got here but I do understand that this is cursed glass and I won’t be able to be let out unless the lid is opened by the one who placed the curse or is killed. 

The jar sits in the middle of a long dinner table as decor, with being alive I always have a glow to me. When I am neutral and healthy it's normally pinkish orange, right now it’s bluish purple relating to my mood and terror. It hasn’t changed in the past decade of being here.

Being small and trapped in a jar and treated as entertainment by those who are desperate to feel power again is something I would never wish upon anybody. They like to cover the oxygen holes on the top and force me to dance or create wind art. Which is borderline impossible with the lack of airflow in here anyway.

“Tell me pretty, what other colors can you turn?”

“Az-” Cassian whispered.

“Fuck you Azriel. You know why I don’t go into that size very often and you of all people should understand why.” I spit at him, and he for just a moment looks guilty. 

“What? You all say this behind her back anyway. Now that I tell her to her face it’s a problem?” He looks at his two brothers. And they both won’t look me in the eye.

“Is that true?” I choke out with silent tears running down my face. Rhys looks at me and takes a breath, “There could have been more tact to how we said this but to put it bluntly yes.”

My wispy iridescent wings pop out of my back. And I start walking backwards towards the door, “I will see myself out then.” 

“Wynn, wait please let's discuss this more maturely.” Rhys says. Azriel scoffs in the background. 

“If it wasn’t for her, Elain wouldn’t be hurt again.” I flinch again feeling sick to my stomach. 

“I am sorry.” I choke out. Cassian reaches for me and I step back curling into myself feeling betrayed by those I called family. 

“No, that was completely uncalled for.” A new voice responds. I turn around to say Nesta and Elain. I look over Elain and all I notice is a few wind burns on her arms. She gives me a soft smile and I look down with a frown.

“Azriel, what is the actual problem here? Because I am fine. I went into her cottage because I forgot my tea recipe book there and completely forgot she was running an experiment.” Elain comes up to me softly and puts her hand on my shoulder. I lean into her warmth. Nesta stares at him with a cold hard glare. 

“He’s jealous.” She observes. Azriel looks shocked for just a moment before he stalks closer into Nesta’s face. To which signals me and Elain to step back and Cassian to intervene. 

“Enough.” Rhys says rubbing his temples again. “Azriel you were out of line with the way you approached this situation and Wynn maybe just be a little less, you.” 

All three girls flinch with the wording. 

“Have you lost your fucking mind Rhysand?” Nesta barks. “Wait until I tell Feyre.” 

By the time the two of them are arguing I shrink down to my pixie size and fly home to my cottage. I arrive at the front stoop back to normal size, and burst into tears against my front door barely making it inside before I collapse into a pile on the floor. 

In a panic I start shoving some of my emergency belongings in a satchel; clothes, my hygiene products, and my magic trials notebook. 

Frantically rushing around my small cottage I see a teacup Elain painted for me, with little orange and pink flowers all over it. I wrap it in one of my shirts and stuff it into my satchel.

By now the sun has completely set, and I take off my porch, my holographic wings sparkling in the moonlight and head towards some place I know will bring me some comfort. 

The Autumn Court. 

a/n: please enjoy! I have been thinking about this idea for a while! Leave comments, like, and share. if you have any questions plz let me know!

I do not own any of the characters that Sarah J Mass has created. but I do own miss Wynnie Lara :p

[satorusugurugurl]

Til’ the Day that I Die (Chapter Four)

Summary: You’re a popstar in need of a bodyguard when you find yourself with a stalker. That’s how you meet Fushiguro Toji, you’re insanely hot bodyguard. Who knows how to push your buttons, and get you feeling flustered. Just how far is he willing to go to protect you? And how far would you go to protect him?

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, grief, language, anxiety, stalking, some slight fluff

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: fun fact—this was supposed to be five parts, its gonna be a bit long because this has taken a life of its own 😅💚

Part One Part Two Part Three

“Oh—” You whispered, stepping forward closer to the shrine. Incense was burning in front of a picture of a beautiful woman with black hair. A small mochi and vase with wildflowers sat beside her photo. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

”Thank you—”

Toji exhaled through his nose, ruffling the top of Megumi’s head as you approached the shrine, kneeling before it, closing your eyes as you bowed your head. Seeing you move so fast, dropping before his late wife's shrine, left Toji feeling both appreciative and sick to his stomach at the same time. Maybe part of It was because he still missed his sweet wife, or perhaps it was because he’s been so wrong about you.

“Thank you for welcoming me into your home, Mrs. Fushiguro.”

The sincerity behind your words felt like a knife in his stomach. Yeah, he had definitely misjudged you. He wished he could take back what he had told you earlier this night. But time didn't work like that. Toji assumed you were a spoiled rotten brat and blatantly said that to your face. There was no taking back those shitty assumptions.

But what he could do was make up for what he had said.

“She would have loved to have you. Wouldn't she squirt?” He asked, ruffling Megumi’s hair.

You glanced over your shoulder, watching Megumi grip his father's pants, nodding his head. A slight flush dusted his cheeks as you smiled sympathetically at him. It must have been hard losing his mother at such a young age; you couldn't even imagine what that must have been like. But Toji, you were in actual awe of him.

Not only did he work for a well-renowned security company, but he was also a single father. Balancing work, raising a child, and caring for a house must be hard as hell. A sudden respect for the mountain of the man blossomed in your chest as he stared at his son, lovingly stroking his hair back.

”I should probably get him to bed, then we can get you settled in, okay?”

You nodded in agreement, watching as he placed his hand on Megumi’s head, turning him to head down a hall. “Goodnight, Miss.” The little tyke said, waving at you, which had your heart squeezing in your chest as you waved back.

When they disappeared into a room, you pushed yourself off the ground, looking around the living; despite being a bit dusty, it was surprisingly well organized. You admired the different photos on bookcases, from Toji and Megumi to pictures of his late wife. As you looked at each photo, you grounded yourself, swallowing at a sadness lumping in your throat. In each photo of his wife, Megumi was a baby. There were no photos of her with him as a toddler or a child, meaning she probably passed before she could watch him grow. That sadness tugged at your heart, making breathing almost hard as you felt nothing but empathy for the family who’d so selflessly taken you in.

“She’s staying for a while?” Megumi asked softly as Toji lifted the sheets for him.

“Yep, you good with that kiddo? If you're not, I could call Shiu.”

“I don't mind—” Toji cocked a dark brow watching Megumi grab his white wolf plushie hugging it. “She’s pretty.”

Those words nearly sent Toji reeling back as he gawked at his son. “Pretty?” Megumi nodded, pursing his lips together as he shot his father a quick, curious glance. Thanks to Toji’s profession, he was a professional at reading people, and that talent extended to his son. “Yeah, she is. But Megumi, this is strictly professional, you know that, right?” When his son just stared at him, he signed. “There’s nothing between us, and I assure you there won't be.” The dismissive tone of Toji’s words left Megumi blinking.

“Why?”

“Because it’s unprofessional. It's my job to protect her.”

He pulled the sheets up to Megumi’s chin, tucking him in. “You know you don't have to worry about me.” Megumi rubbed his face into the plushie fur. “I wouldn't mind you seeing her.” Toji rolled his eyes, pushing Megumi’s bangs off his forehead and pressing a kiss there.

“She’s a client, kid.”

“So?”

How was it possible for a kid to be this intrusive? “Okay, that’s enough questions, go to sleep.” The floorboards creaked under Toji’s weight as he headed for the hall. “Night Megumi.”

“Night, Dad.”

Shutting the door to his son’s room, Toji was left alone in the hall's silence with his thoughts. He knew there would be a day when Megumi would ask him about his dating life. He was sure how he would react, whether he didn't like the idea or was indifferent. But this was a reaction he hadn't been expecting. For Megumi to basically give Toji his blessing to date you was literally unfathomable. And he had said it with such a straight face!

Megumi didn't know you; he'd barely met you, hardly said less than twenty words to you, and was giving His father permission. Your presence had that much of an impact on him? The same woman he had deemed a spoiled brat had won his son over merely by smiling and being kind.

He'd have to make sure Megumi knew you weren't staying forever. This arrangement was a temporary deal. One designed to keep you safe and out of harm's way.

As he headed into the living room, rubbing the back of his neck, thinking of how he could word it, he saw you standing in front of the bookcases, staring at the photos that lined the shelves. He'd been expecting to see an unreadable, almost bored face as you waited for him. What he was met with had him frozen in his spot.

Tears, literal tears welled in your eyes. You were crying while looking at pictures of his wife. The woman who’s impacted him in so many ways. Who had blessed him with a son who was so much like her? The same woman he had mourned for the last five years. Seeing you like that only made Toji regret his earlier words even more. With a sigh, Toji cleared his throat as he entered the living room, stomping his feet a little too loud to give you time to wipe the stray tears off your face.

“Sorry about the wait.”

“Oh, you’re fine; I’m the one imposing on your family.”

Toji wanted to argue and tell you to shut up, but he let it go. You weren’t a burden. He was happy to help you because it was the right thing to do.

So, instead of yelling or starting another argument, Toji stepped forward, ruffling the top of your head. “Come on, I’ll give ya’ a tour.” The apartment was lovely, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, and a balcony overlooking the city. It was a pleasant, quiet home perfect for the two of them. It was also the place that you would call home for an indefinite future. “It’s a little cramped, but it’s still home.”

You both made your way back out to the living room. Where you were fiddling with your thumbs and anxiously looking around. Toji was watching you closely as he had been doing the entire night. You have been through so much in the last few hours he didn’t wanna push you further than you had been so far. Right now, the best thing he could do was get in bed and sleep this terrible night off.

He cleared his throat around the living room before moving the cushions off the couch. Upon seeing him moving, you jumped to help him take the cushions from him and place them off to the side—something his previous clients wouldn’t be caught dead. Then again, you weren’t like his other clients. The more time he spent with you, the more evident that became.

“You realize you don’t have to help me do this right.”

“What kind of house would I be if I didn’t help?”

Toji shook his head as he moved the coffee table to the side. “Ya’ know, I think you’re the only houseguest that has ever done this with me.” you shook your head this time, giving him an almost smug smile.

“Well, I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

You laughed, and God, it was sweet and light as air. A sound that ceased all of Toji’s movements as he looked up at you. After everything you had gone through tonight, you were still able to laugh and smile. And it wasn’t that fake laugh for the smile he watched you put on when you were at the stadium. You'd been through hell and back this evening, but you were grinning despite everything that you had gone through. Knowing that someone had gotten into your home, you were staying in a stranger's house, yet you were laughing a carefree giggle. For you to still be able to smile like everything was fine when he knew it took resilience and guts.

You hummed, rubbing at the back of your neck. Unaware of the watchful gaze that Toji was shooting in your direction. “I bet you have a lot of interesting stories to tell.” Your words pull him out of the stupor he found himself in while staring at your delicate features and pretty face.

“Uhm, yeah, yeah, I do have a lot of stories I could tell. But let’s put a pin in that; you had a long day. You need to get some rest.” Toji stretched his arms above his head before stretching the arms across his chest. “If you give me a few minutes, I can change the sheets on my bed, and you can shower.”

“Your bed?”

Toji blinked, looking away before looking back and meeting your confused gaze. “Yeah, I’m taking the couch; you can stay in my bed.” From the way you crossed your arms and fed your brows, Toji knew you didn’t approve of this idea.

“I’m not the type to kick you out of your bed because I’m staying with you. I am perfectly capable of sleeping on a pull-out bed.”

“No one said you weren’t, Doll Face.” The mere annoyance etched into his voice didn't faze you in the slightest. “Anyways, I'm sleeping here. So I'm going to go change my sheets, get you a towel, and then you can rest.”

“Just grab me a towel; I really don't mind sleeping out here.”

A vein in Toji’s forehead throbbed as he slowly turned to glare down at you, putting on the fakest smile he could muster. “You’re a brat, you know that? I'm trying to be nice and offer you my bed so you can get a good night’s sleep.” Navy eyes watched as you shrugged, fucking shrugged at his words.

“Don't take this the wrong way, but I would prefer you to be on your A-Game tomorrow. You are my bodyguard, after all. If anyone should get a good night's sleep, it should be you.”

With pure satisfaction, you watched Toji open his mouth to argue before slowly closing it. A cocky smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as your tall; muscular bodyguard couldn't bring himself to argue or disagree with you. Seeing that expression on your face, Toji’s eyes were twitching; maybe you were a brat.

“Ooh, you sure Miss Pop-Princess won’t mind sleeping on the couch? I wouldn't want it ruining your back~”

Instead of snapping or giving him attitude, Toji watched as you slowly tilted your head to the side. “You do realize I have slept on my fair share of couches before I was famous and after the fact.” Toji blinked, watching you run your hands over the mattress. “When I was staying with my friends, I slept on their sofa, and they didn't even have a pull-out mattress, so this is a step up.” Damn, you were just—normal.

“Fuck, you aren't like other clients I've had in the past.”

“Is that a good thing?”

You watched as Toji’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Eh, I don't know yet.” You glared at him, but your glare was cut short as he threw a pillow at your face. “Relax, it’s not necessarily a bad thing. You're just different. But sometimes different is good.”

Sometimes different was good?

Toji’s words had you tossing and turning on the pull-out bed. You sighed, staring at the ceiling as you tossed and turned, and his words echoed in your mind. After everything that had happened to you in the last few hours, you weren't sure if you agreed with him.

In fact, ever since you had gone viral, things have been incredibly different for you. And you weren't sure if it was a good thing. Your fame had its perks, of course. You made good money, more than enough to give back to the community and help those who couldn't help themselves. But, the downsides were turning out to be—worse than you ever imagined.

Your anxiety was at an all-time high; you had a stalker who had been watching you for god knows how long, and you were staying with your bodyguard, whom you knew practically nothing about. Well, that last part wasn't as bad as the other two drastic changes you were experiencing. Did that fact make it any less nerve-wracking and anxiety-inducing? No, it didn't.

Those thoughts plagued your mind all night; from the time Toji left you to shower until then, the blue velvet sky outside began turning a light shade of orange with the promise of morning. There was no way you were going to be able to sleep. You had come to terms with that fact before you even stepped foot into Toji's apartment building. The anxiety had dug its claws into you. Its talons seep into your skin like a poison meant to keep you up for all night hours.

Hopefully, this won't be a permanent change in your life.

The orange hue shifted to a lilac shade with pink clouds. At that point, you had given up on sleeping altogether, opting to sit on the fold-out bed and stare at the different shapes forming in the clouds. Just as you watched a rabbit shift into an elephant, a soft creaking sound pulled your attention away from the window.

Megumi wandered out of his room, rubbing his eyes as he looked around. Navy blue eyes met yours, and he stared at you for a second before continuing his way into the living room. He was silent as he plopped down on the end of the mattress, looking at the black screen of the television.

“You wanna watch television?” You questioned in a soft, almost motherly tone.

“No, I’m okay.” His timid voice melted your heart, but you could tell from how he stole glances at you that he had something to say.

“You sure about that.”

Another silence spread before he turned to look over his shoulder at you. “Yeah.” Little fingers picked at the thick blanket Toji had given you. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you for asking. How about you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a piece of lint to the blanket. “I slept okay.” Nodding your head, you sighed, looking out at the sky.

“Well, from the sounds of it, we both didn't sleep very well, and there's only one cure for a rough night.”

Your words had Megumi’s head snapping in your direction, curiosity gleaming in his big doe-eyed. “There’s a cure?” With a wide bobcat grin, you picked the blankets off yourself.

“Yes, and thankfully, I know the only cure out there. Wanna help me?” Megumi took your hand without hesitation, giving it a squeeze as you both headed beaded into the kitchen. “I can assure you that this cure will be the tastiest cure of them all.”

The smell of bacon pulled Toji out of dreamland. He groaned, running his hands down his face, and sat up, glancing at the clock. It was seven thirty, and Megumi was already up and about, staring at his day, much like his mother used to do. This would come in handy in the future, but for a six-year-old to be up cooking seemed unlikely, so it had to be you. At least Toji hoped it was you.

As tempting as it was to stay in bed and fall back asleep, the soft clattering from the kitchen urged Toji to investigate. Slipping on his grey sweats with a sigh, Toji headed out to the kitchen, where he found his son eating breakfast on one of the barstools. He was seconds away from scolding his son to wake him up the next time he was hungry when he heard the soft singing resonating from the stove.

There he saw you. You were swaying your hips to music softly playing on your phone. You were completely oblivious to him watching you as you flipped a pancake over in the frying pan you used. Normally, he'd be slightly irritated if someone he didn't know was using his kitchen and groceries without asking.

But you looked so pretty, mindlessly singing as you cooked breakfast. Not only his son, but for him too from the second plate sitting off to the side, and the third you were plating must be for you. It had been so long since Toji’s kitchen was filled with warmth, singing, and life. It was so strange, different.

But then again, different was sometimes good.

It was so good that Toji crept over to stand behind you, watching you flip the pancake to cook it perfectly. You still were unaware of his presence, which was slightly concerning, seeing that you were being stalked by a crazed maniac right now. That was something you both would have to work on in the future. For now, Toji was going to have a bit of fun.

He leaned as close as he could to your ear before chuckling. “I didn't know the Pop-Princess could cook.” When it came to startling you, Toji had expected a few things to happen. You’d likely react with a fight-or-flight. He imagined you trying to take a swing at him, which he could easily avoid. It made sense; you'd be on high alert, ready to fight for your life if needed.

Instead, a warm pancake smacked him in the face. He just stood there as the pancake slowly slid down his face, revealing your startled face and staring up at him in fear. Out of everything you could have used to your advantage, you threw a pancake at him. A flat, soft, warm breakfast treat had been the only line of defense you'd choose to use—when you were holding a frying pan. As the pancake fell to the floor with a soft thump, you and Toju stared into each other's eyes.

Toji had his work cut out for him.

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[paraphwrites]

so obviously the time period a character comes from impacts them. but i adore the analysis of dbda and loneliness so now i want to analyze the characters + their time period + loneliness

edwin. so, edwin is from the 1900s. he was raised with the knowledge that he would join the military, that he would get married. this was an accepted part of life. now, i do not wish to analyze the full scale of edwin's relationship with violence (at least, not here), but i do think it's interesting that edwin goes out of his way not to inflict harm on others. this is potentially because he was raised in such a way where that was the norm, and he always knew he did not fit traditional male standards. he has always preferred knowledge and books to fighting and sport. this would have been incredibly isolating, especially as a young boy in a school for children of military members. additionally, as a queer person, edwin would have been entirely socially isolated from his peers. whether they picked up on it like simon or just thought he was un-manly, the point stands: edwin would not have fit in with his peers and seemingly had no friends when he died. which is very sad. and very lonely.

crystal. crystal's parents neglected her for their work. she lashes out. she lashes out and pushes people away (or in front of traffic). she is volatile and destructive and she is like this because she lives in an age when parents are expected to care for their children, and her parents still actively chose not to. crystal is especially traumatized because even tho she is in upper class which may have a higher rate of willful parental neglect, the expectation is still that parents love their children. moreover crystal is psychic, and that's never really been fun. she'll be completely different from all her peers in a fundamental way which she probably never talks about with any of them! so, like, of course when david, a demon, comes along, she lets him in - she's finally with someone who understands and makes her feel less lonely. someone else who's weird and angry and pretty and supernatural. and then he, too, betrays her. there is also almost certainly a race element, which may further disassociate her from her peers, seeing as the upper class is usually very white.

jenny. so jenny grew up as a lesbian in the 90s. now, i don't know much about washington state, but i do know that they legalized gay marriage in 2012. which means for over half of jenny's life, she was living with the knowledge that she would never get to live the same type of life as her peers; though the white picket fence americana dream may have been less prevalent by the 90s, it still was very ingrained in american society - especially small town society. i wonder if part of jenny's gothic fashion is to distinguish herself from other people - if she cannot have the same lives as them, then no one will make the mistake of assuming she will.

so the night nurse is lonely in a very unique way. she is lonely because she does not have a proper conception of an actual human life. she has no friends or relationships - nor does she want to; she does not know what they are like. and, i think, because she exists so outside of time and removed from society, that it makes her inherently lonely. she is lonely because somehow she was created and somehow someone convinced her that her only purpose in life is to collect lost children and she is satisfied with this but she is also alone. she has no time period to be contextualized in, and that in itself is the context.

niko is lonely because her dad is dead and her mom lives in a different continent. and i think that because she is able to utilize manga and cartoons as a form of escapism, it allows her to fill that void of devastating loneliness a bit more. she lives in a world where if she doesn't want to think she does not have to. she is not obligated to be courageous. however, she also lives in a world where she is able to choose to self-isolate, even if that isn't good for her. so when she is sad she hides away because she can and it's scary and she doesn't want to do it alone but she doesn't want to do it with her mom. i've seen people saying crystal is such a teenage girl but niko? niko wants her mom to comfort her but doesn't want to talk to her mom. niko is horribly lonely and it's only a gay victorian twink who can get her to smile again. niko is lonely because she exists in a world which allows her to be and it takes someone who is not from this time to help her move past this

charles. god, we all know how lonely charles is. biracial, abused by his father, probably bisexual, good with people yet killed via hate crime, morally upstanding. charles is the epitome of loneliness because he grows up in such a particular moment of time. he lives in the 80s. feminism and queer rights have been radically shifting in the past two decades. the 80s have huge amounts conservative pushback from these movements. so, yeah, being gay isn't a crime anymore, but gendered expectations are being reestablished in a new harmful way. so, yeah, charles is growing up in a time of progress, but he's also growing up in a household which will absolutely be anti-progress, and ergo charles is stuck in this dichotomy of he could hypothetically have everything but that would mean losing everything, too. he's lonely because his dad beats him. he's lonely because his mom doesn't say anything. he's lonely because he has a piercing but his dad locked him in his room for three days after it. he's lonely because he attends a boarding school which rich racist pricks. he's lonely because never once in his life has he admitted how the intersection of all his identities puts him in a situation where he is completely alone. and he isn't alone -he's got edwin- but their experiences with loneliness are vastly different.

as i have said a stupid number of times, dead boy detectives is a story about loneliness. and the writers made these characters so damn brilliantly because they all make so much sense in the context they were raised in.

we are all shaped by the context's we're raised in. everyone is raised at a different moment in history in different environments with different families. human experiences are so unique that everyone is inherently lonely. but lonely does not mean alone and lonely does not mean forever. it means when you were fourteen you cried yourself to sleep but now you're twenty and know how to play cricket and your friends come to all of your matches. it means you were raised in a world that was cruel and unforgiving, AND it means that because of that you don't have to be. dead boy detectives teaches us that we're all horribly lonely, and maybe that makes each other a little less lonely

i'll take some of your burden if you'll take some of mine, and whatnot

[vigilskeep]

wait, Minerva "canonically" has a baby?? i want to know everything!! when how what - how does motherhood change her, pls elaborate, srry if you talked about this before, i just love them so much

she does!! i talk abt this less bc i think its self-indulgent jghsskks and that people are less interested in this, but it’s super fun to think about for me

the baby was a surprise, minerva was kind of being stupid about it lmao because she was being less careful than she might have been in the circle, especially because she’s a warden now so she’s less likely to get pregnant at all, without really thinking through what might happen. (i’m sure our local kinloch hold spirit healer companions both had their field days telling her off for this at some point.) but as soon as it does happen she wants the baby so badly. as a circle mage and then a warden she had never really seriously considered it a possibility for herself, but she loves children, and it’s been so long since she had a real family

it’s zevran’s and zevran is in antiva most of the time. i think she has a weird crisis about whether he’ll want anything to do with a baby, and she would despise for him to come back just out of obligation but also what if he doesn’t come back, and she ends up procrastinating telling him for, like, months. just a stupid amount of time. bc she was born to stress her man out and to give her wardens unnecessary grudges against him because they thought he had obviously chosen not to be here because obviously she would have told him. truly when will his suffering end. anyway he’s thrilled when somebody eventually does him the courtesy of letting him know

the baby’s a boy, she names him duncan, it sparks a whole other argument with alistair that we won’t get into here. he gets nicknamed junior a lot, partly bc he’s duncan jr, partly bc of the ongoing joke that he’s the resident Junior Warden. he was very much raised in warden blue since the cradle. because minerva is so busy and zevran is often away, he’s pretty much collectively raised in vigil’s keep by the awakening squad and whoever else gets added to that trusted inner circle. which works out bc wardens don’t often have kids of their own so they all just kind of... share this one lmao. (and possibly sometimes also oghren and felsi’s kid if they stick around?) it’s velanna who instigates this bc that’s what the dalish do and she’s also literally the only one here who knows what to do with a baby so thank the maker she’s here (minerva’s practised with kids but by nature they don’t have babies in the circle)

i’m so thrilled that spellblade is a crow-themed rogue-like mage subclass bc that’s exactly what i always pictured for duncan jr eventually. he’s a mage, his magic manifests very young, but minerva is very strict abt his studies and it has the unfortunate reverse effect of making getting his dad or nathaniel or sigrun to teach him combat much more fun. it works out really bc his magic having manifested is a tightly kept secret so it’s good for him not to have to rely on it

being a mother kind of changes/crystallises a lot of minerva’s priorities. it’s one thing to say, like, i would like to improve the situation for my fellow mages at some point, or, it sure would be nice to live past a warden’s usual limits. it’s another thing entirely to have a mage child and need to make a world that’s safe for him and live long enough to see it done. it ends up being a key issue of her conflict with the chantry between origins and inquisition because nobody’s quite certain what the rules are. obviously if she were still a circle mage any child of hers would be taken away. but she’s not a circle mage and arguably the chantry has no right to a child born outside of the circle, with no sign yet (as far as anyone outside vigil’s keep knows) of magic. (like i say it manifested younger than normal so this is believable even to those who think he will eventually show.) it definitely exacerbates tensions, shall we say, because obviously they can pry him out of her cold dead hands

he’s probably still only quite young in inquisition. six or seven? somewhere around there, i hate timelines. not sure where he is while minerva and her squad are on their quest, but given the very short list of people she trusts that much, i have to say that the most insane answer is likely: he’s in denerim as a temporary ward of the king. probably the first elven kid to be such

[allmoshnobrain]

You're a short girl, and sometimes that messes with your confidence. Your boyfriend doesn't seem to care at all, though.

✦ on this fic: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader, fluff, reader is short and it makes her a bit insecure

✦ a/n: this is my first time writing for anything other than metallica/megadeth/venom which is what i usually write for but i've been daydreaming a lot about this man and needed to get this out of my system 😭 also it was a great way to warm up and start writing again after my break!! hope u guys enjoy it 💖

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It takes him a while to pick up on your insecurity.

It's subtle, and honestly, he’s not exactly great with subtle. He fails, at first, to catch the way you pout, the way you frown whenever you see a hot actress who’s taller than you, or a long dress you think would look better on someone with a few more inches.

He finally catches on, though, one night when you’re cooking dinner. It’s kind of a slip up, really — a tiring day and your period cramps the worst they’ve been in the last few hours just making it easier for you to get upset over the smallest thing. So when you can’t reach one of the trays on the top shelf and have to ask him to grab it, he turns around to see you teary-eyed and upset, which is not how this usually goes.

“Love?” he asks, his brow furrowing when he sees your state “What’s wrong?” He glances at the glass tray in his hands. “Did I grab the wrong one?”

“What? No, no, it’s fine,” you mutter, his confused look quickly shifting into worry when he notices the tears in your eyes.

“Hey,” he quickly puts the tray down and gently grabs your chin. “Talk to me. What is it?”

He’s firm, straightforward but not harsh, which just makes you feel even more ridiculous for almost crying over something so dumb.

“I’m being silly,” you say, but he shakes his head. 

“Don’t say that,” he mutters. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

That last part sounds almost like a command, his voice all firm and serious — something that would probably annoy you if he didn’t sound so genuinely concerned. You sigh.

“I wish I was taller,” you whisper, hoping he wouldn’t hear it, but he does. Of course he does.

“You wish you were taller?” he repeats, now more confused than worried. “Why?”

“I just don’t want to feel useless, always needing your help,” you half-lie, because that’s not really it.  And of course, Simon knows — he always does. You can tell by the way he raises his eyebrow slightly at you, disarming you instantly. “I wish I was prettier,” you finally mutter.

“You are pretty,” he says slowly, like he’s still trying to figure out where all this is coming from. “You’re beautiful. And I like helping you.”

“But tall girls are… More beautiful,” you sniffle, and he snorts.

“Who said that?”

“I said,” you frown. “Like, every time I see a cute dress that’s too long, I just think I can’t wear it. It won’t look right on me. I always feel like I can only look cute, but sometimes I want to look, I don’t know, gorgeous. Tall girls just always seem to look gorgeous to me, and I...”

“Oh, shush,” Simon grumbles, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. He tilts your chin up gently so you’re looking at him. “You are gorgeous. And you’re beautiful, and you’re mine. And I like you small — easier to hold.”

You can’t help but laugh. It’s shaky, and you try to hold it back, wanting to stay in your little pity party a bit longer. I mean, seriously, what does he mean by "you’re gorgeous" when you feel the exact opposite?

"Easier to hold?" you say, trying to sound offended but failing as a giggle slips out.

"There she is," he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth, and that’s when you realize you’re smiling. "My girl. Don’t be upset, love. You don’t need to be taller to be pretty. And if you ever need to reach for something, well, that’s what I’m here for."

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you tease. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“Goddammit, woman. Will you quit trying to convince me you’re not beautiful? It’s not happening,” he frowns, then leans in, pressing a small, tender kiss to your lips. His arms wrapped around you are comfortable, warm and firm and feel like home.

It never fails to disarm you, how soft he can be. Out of the blue, always when you’re not really expecting it. Just when you think you’ve finally managed to annoy him or maybe this is the time he’s gonna get tired of you. He never fails to prove you wrong. 

He never fails to prove that he loves you, just the way you are.

[velocesainz]

Seb n his F1 rival(from karting days) realise thru friends that they do love eachother thru their actions whether they admit or not

Unknowing love

F1 Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Taglist

Summary: Seb and reader have been rivals since their karting days and after years of rivalry and reaching formula one realise they’ve loved eachother throughout this time

Pairing: Rbr Seb x f1!driver!reader ft. Mark Webber

Warnings: a light bit of angst

Reader pov:

Me and Seb have been feuding for as long as we’ve known eachother which is over 20 years at this point when we met during my first karting race

Sebastian was this adorable boy who after the race had some rather rude words to say. It was really a shame, I really would’ve liked to be his friend.

After that day for the next year after every race he would have some rude or sexist comments to say to me which I ignored for the most part

After a while I started reciprocating these words to him as well and our rivalry grew even more intense

We were now in formula one, the pinnacle of motorsport and we still hadn’t grown out of our silly bickering

We were currently in imola and had just started the race being a few laps in when a red flag was raised and I was asked to return to the pits

“Who crashed? That’s quite the wreckage” I asked my engineer as to who crashed as I approached the crash site

“I believe that was the red bull of Vettel that went into the barriers there” my engineer replied

My heart dropped. Was he alright? That looked like a really bad crash

I didn’t think, I stopped my car by the side of the track and ran to check on Seb

Knocking on his helmet I invoked no response. My mind was spiralling. I helped the marshals get his body out of the car and was forced to return to my pitbox and not Seb who was being taken to the hospital.

The race resumed but all that clouded my mind was Seb. How was he? Did he sustain any serious injuries? Was he going to be ok?

I could barely focus and my team noticed too and asked me to keep focusing and told me they would update me on his condition which made me incredibly grateful

I finished the race on the second step of the podium but I didn’t care for the press or the celebrations and rushed through all of them

I was pacing around the paddock waiting for mark to go visit Seb at the hospital

“About time you guys realise that you care for eachother” he said as he approached me

“What are you talking about Mark? Also what do you mean about time? I’ve hated him forever. I’m just looking out for a fellow driver” I retorted.

“Any person not deeply in love wouldn’t care this much dear. Look at the rest of us. We care sure, but not so much that we drop everything and go visit him” Mark explained

Albeit it was a weirdly rude explanation I realised he was right.

We reached the hospital and let Mark go in first as he was his teammate after all

Mark pov:

Entering Sebs room I placed the flowers y/n has got for him insisting that I give to him in a vase.

“How did you know I love sunflowers?” Seb asked looking at the flowers

“ That’s because I didn’t, y/n got them and wanted me to give them to you” I said

“She’s here?”

“Indeed she is. She was worried as soon as she saw the crash site”

“Whatever not like I care she’s my mortal enemy”

“Aw don’t be like that, I know you have the most massive crush on her”

Seb started at me wide eyed with a red hue tinting his cheeks

“I’ll send her in, she’s waiting outside”

I left and sent y/n in who was relieved to hear that he was ok

Seb pov:

I saw y/n enter the room and looking at the immense concern etched into her face I asked myself why I decided to create such an enemity with this beautiful soul

I knew I had to confess soon as her potential suitors were getting harder to drive away.

“Hey”

“Hey”

“How are you feeling now?”

“I’m better now that you’re here”

I watched as her face heated up turning her into the cutest tomato

“I love you”

“Seb..”

“I love you y/n. I have since the day we met”

“I love you too Seb. Always have”

With that we connected our pups in the most magical kiss ever.

We broke apart to the sound of Mark Webber cheering for us from outside

Chuckling we embraced.

I couldn’t have asked for a better ending.

A/n: hello lovelies! I’m sorry it took me this long to complete I’m sorry but I’m much more free now and I’ll start posting more. I’m getting the catalogue ready and would love for any suggestions about what the theme could be! Let me know your thoughts. Kissies ✨

Taglist:

@grantaires-waistcoat

@tellybearryyyy

[vodika-vibes]

Hey Vodika!

I hope you're feeling better. I don't know if you accept requests, but I'll leave this here. Could I ask for a story with Commander Neyo? The situation would be that Neyo is eavesdropping on her S/O's conversation with her friends. He hears her friends say that she should break up with Neyo because he is a harsh, cold, uncaring clone and that she will not be happy with him. Neyo hears this and is devastated. He knows he may not be the best when it comes to feelings, but he loves his S/O. His S/O finds him and learns that Neyo overheard the conversation. That's why she wants to do everything to prove to him that she loves him and wants to be with him no matter what. 💓

Take care of yourself!

People Who Matter

Summary: Neyo overhears a conversation between his cyare and her friends after returning home from a long deployment.

Pairing: Commander Neyo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1082

Warnings: Toxic friends

A/N: Hi there! I do take requests almost constantly, even if it might take a bit for me to get to your request! I hope you like this!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist!

 Commander Neyo is an asshole.

He knows it. His men know it. His General knows it.

It’s a carefully cultivated persona that keeps his brothers from prying too much into his private life and keeps him from getting too close to men who probably won’t survive the year.

That might make him a cold person, but being raised to die in a war will do that to a man.

The one good thing in his life, the only good thing in his life, is his cyare.

So far as he’s concerned, she’s perfect in every way.

His cyare isn’t a Coruscant native. She’s from some small planet in the mid-rim and came to Coruscant for school. And, once she graduated, she just refused to return home.

He once asked why, late one evening, and she just laughed and told him that she was happy on Coruscant, happy with him, and she was not quite ready for the responsibility that came with returning home.

Neyo didn’t push at the time, and he still won’t push now, if she’s happy then that’s enough for him. Though a large part of him can’t quite understand why she’s so happy with someone like him. 

But, right now, he’s not going to question it.

Because her love for him means that he’s allowed to decompress from the war in an actual apartment, with a proper bed and an even better shower. Not to mention home-cooked meals and as many kisses as he could ever want.

Silently, Neyo keys in the code to the apartment that he half lives in, and he pauses in the doorway, just before he calls out to his cyare. He hadn’t warned her that he was returning early, wanting to surprise her, though now he feels like he should have.

Since the shoes piled at the door suggest that she has company.

He steps into the laundry room, which is right next to the front door, and tugs his armor off, setting it on the shelf that she bought for that very purpose. Then he peels off his blacks and pulls on the casual clothes that she leaves in the laundry room for this very scenario.

It’s not much, a tee shirt and dark red lounge pants, but to him, they’re more comfortable than the softest shimmersilk.

Only then does he step back into the hallway and head towards the living room. However, he stops before he opens the door.

He stops because he hears his name.

“So, the reason we invited ourselves over,” Neyo scowls at the comment and the voice. That is Nalia, his cyare’s oldest friend on Coruscant, and, in his humble opinion, the worst person in the galaxy. “We wanted to talk to you about Neyo.”

There’s no reply for a moment, and then his cyare speaks, “You want to talk about Neyo?” Her accent is thicker than it normally is, and Neyo knows without having to ask that her “friends” have been bothering her about things again.

“We do.” Another woman says. That’s Linly, another one of his cyare’s friends, though she most often plays the role of Nalia’s flying monkey. “I know that you love him.” She almost sounds concerned. Almost.

“You need to break up with him.” Nalia interrupts.

“...I beg your pardon?”

“Listen, he’s cold and mean and uncaring and he’s only using you for your body—” Nalia lists.

“You don’t know him, at all.” His cyare counters flatly, “I’m not breaking up with him.”

“Look,” Linly interjects, “He is very handsome, but if it’s his looks you want, he has millions of identical brothers—”

“Enough.”

“He’s not good for you,” Linly continues, undaunted. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Neyo winces. As much as he loathes these two women…they’re right. He doesn’t deserve his cyare. He never has. She deserves someone as amazing as she is, and that’s definitely not him. 

He grimaces and rubs the back of his neck, he shouldn’t be listening to this. This conversation isn’t for his ears. And he’s about he walk away, when his cyare replies.

“You don’t get to decide if someone deserves me or not.” Her voice is flat and unimpressed, “The only person who gets to decide that is me, and I’ve decided that Neyo is perfect for me. And now I’d like you to leave.”

“Look,” Nalia says with a sigh, “We’re not leaving until you agree to break up with him.”

Oh.

Oh, absolutely not.

Neyo decides that he’s heard enough, and he slides the panel door open and steps into the living room. Immediately, he feels bad for not interjecting earlier.

His cyare is pressed into the corner of the couch, her hands curled into fists, while her “friends” loom over her.

“She said she wants you to leave.” Neyo says flatly, throwing every ounce of “unimpressed Commander” into his countenance as he can.

“Neyo!”

His gaze flickers over to his cyare as she pushes between her friends and hurries to his side, her arms sliding around his waist and burying her face against his shoulder. Neyo doesn’t bother to stop himself from lazily rubbing her back, pleased to have her against him again.

“You can leave,” Neyo says, his tone just on this side of polite, though the death glare he’s directing at them is enough to have them scurrying out of the apartment.

He doesn’t relax until the front door slides shut, and the lock automatically clicks into place. And then he’s wholly distracted by his cyare’s arms sliding around his neck.

“Welcome home,” Her smile is soft and small, and Neyo leans in to press his forehead against hers.

“Glad to be back,” He replies, his gaze scanning her face for any signs of distress, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” She shifts and lightly rubs her nose against his, “Just annoyed.” Her arms tighten around his neck, “They’re not right, you know?”

“About?”

“You not deserving me. You deserve everything and more.”

“I don’t want everything. I just want you.” Neyo counters with a small smile. “But you know, you could do better than me.”

“Never. Not in a million years.” She corrects, shifting once more to brush her lips against his.

Neyo doesn’t let her get away with that, pulling her closer so that he’s able to kiss her properly. “You need better friends, cyare.” He mumbles against her lips.

“A problem for later,” She replies as she tugs on the collar of his shirt, “I need to welcome you home now.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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@justiceandwar98

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[oliviablancmom]

"Enemies - Pablo Gavi (Part IV)"

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x OC!reader

A/N: And finally, we have the fourth part. I hope you enjoy it. It’s so hard to write them, but I feel so happy seeing the path they take. I hope you like it.

Gavi realized he still hated the cameras, and the media side of football was something he had carried with him since he was just a kid. Yes, he was only 17 years old, and as he grew, people always said that his shyness around cameras would eventually pass, but it wasn’t. He still got embarrassed during interviews, felt equally uncomfortable in photo shoots, and, above all, it was still strange to see his name in newspapers and gossip pages. That’s why he had mentally cursed the person responsible for the chaos he had been dealing with in the past weeks.

Journalists kept speculating about the nature of his relationship with her, weeks after the confusion during El Clásico. He had hoped it would have blown over, but on the contrary, people loved talking and making things up. What comforted him was that maybe she was also suffering from the incident, as she had locked her Instagram account, which was previously public.

"What are you thinking about?" Pedri asked. Gavi looked up at his friend, who had an inquisitive look on his face. That was another thing he had to deal with—Pedri had been a little annoying lately, especially when the subject involved the Madrileña.

"Don't you think this should have blown over by now?" Gavi asked. "I’ve already made it clear that I was just helping her, and people keep making things up. It’s annoying," Gavi huffed.

"Well, it’s a hot topic—‘Barcelona’s son and Madrid’s daughter,’" Pedri said dramatically, referencing a magazine headline. Gavi's scowl was immediate as if the title itself had struck him. He hated the way those words sounded like they were trying to tie something between him and Florence. It was ridiculous and infuriating. Not just because it was a media invention, but because there was something uncomfortably real about how people insisted on placing him next to the girl. Gavi huffed, frustrated with himself.

"Why do I care so much about this?" he asked almost unconsciously. It was just a stupid phrase from a magazine, but his mind kept returning to his interactions with Florence as if trying to decipher something beyond his understanding.

"So, what’s your thing with her, anyway?" Pedri pressed.

"There’s no thing," Gavi said quickly.

"That’s not what it looks like. You get all worked up about her," Pedri pushed further.

"I don’t!" His voice came out louder than he intended, but he couldn’t let Pedri think he was right. Not when even he didn’t fully understand what was going on. The silence that followed made his stomach twist. He glanced at Pedri, who had raised his eyebrows.

"Your reaction proves my point," Pedri laughed, and Gavi rolled his eyes.

"Why are you being so annoying about this?" Gavi asked defensively.

"I’m just worried. You get too affected by what she says." Gavi abruptly stopped his workout, his mind flashing back to a similar accusation Florence herself had made.

He didn’t care that much about what she said; she was just... Boring, and someone had to tell her. Now that he knew who she was, she probably didn’t hear it enough. So, if the task fell to him, he would make sure she knew.

"If it were just a back-and-forth of insults, I wouldn’t be worried. But the problem is, it bothers you. I’m concerned it might start affecting your game," Pedri said with honest concern. Gavi swallowed hard. To him, Pedri’s worry was exaggerated. He didn’t care about what she said, quite the opposite, so he didn’t see how it could affect his performance. "I think you should ignore it if you want my advice."

Gavi thought about it and suppressed the urge to say he didn’t want the advice, but he didn’t want to be rude to Pedri. He understood his friend’s concern, but it was unwarranted. He wasn’t affected, and he wouldn’t let it impact his performance on the field.

"Yeah, I think I’ll just ignore it," Gavi said, avoiding Pedri's attentive gaze. Gavi remained silent for the rest of the training, lost in his thoughts.

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

Florence used to love parties and gala dinners. Since she was a child, she was used to attending these events with her grandfather. They were her playground, where her favorite characters—football players from all over—were the main stars. She was always walking around, paying attention to conversations and taking photos.

But since her grandfather had turned it into a professional obligation, the events had become dull. Especially now, Florence felt he was still punishing her for the mess she had caused during the last El Clásico, which had drawn the kind of attention Florentino hated.

The King was hosting a special dinner for the Spanish national team, a sort of good luck in advance for the Nations League finals.

Florence was accompanying Carvajal, the Real Madrid player who had been called up. Both were greeting the royal family and had engaged in conversation. Florence listened carefully to what the princess was saying, but she wasn’t paying attention. There was something about her that got on her nerves, though she couldn’t explain what it was. That’s why she internally celebrated when others approached, allowing her to step aside.

"A little more of your visible irritation with the royal family, and I think we’d be kicked out," Carvajal whispered as they sat at their assigned table. "Princess rivalries," he joked, and Florence laughed.

"I’m not in the mood to be social tonight," Florence shrugged.

"Is your grandfather still making your life difficult?" He asked with concern, knowing well the expectations the man placed on his heir. Florence shrugged, choosing not to respond so the conversation would end quickly. She didn’t want to be there, and she didn’t want to talk about her grandfather.

Carvajal started a conversation with other players sitting at the same table, and Florence looked around the room, noticing a few important people. Her grandfather always said these events were about being noticed and building connections, and she was sure that when he saw her, he would ask for a summary, so that's why she walked gracefully around the room, greeting some important people.

But before she could venture further into the hall, she stopped as some speeches began, including one from the king. The man and his family loved sports and were always present when the Spanish national team was playing, so there was always a higher level of formality. Florence sighed in boredom; at other times, she would have loved all of this. As she watched the king’s speech intently, she felt an irritatingly familiar presence beside her and didn’t suppress the urge to roll her eyes. As if she had developed a sixth sense for noticing the player’s presence, she could use that to avoid running into him. After all, Florence was furious; because of him, she was at odds with her grandfather and had to deal with stupid, baseless rumors.

Gavi stopped next to the girl, and though she didn’t bother to look at him, the way she took a deep breath showed that she had noticed his presence.

"Is your mood bad because your team is doing poorly this season?" Gavi teased, and she finally looked at him.

"We’ll eventually find our way back, unlike you guys, who start well and then it’s a complete disaster." Gavi’s expression hardened, and a smile appeared on the girl’s face as he rolled his eyes and looked forward again.

"Have you figured it out yet?" Gavi looked at her again, his brows furrowed.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"The last time I saw you, you had that same confused look on your face. Have you figured out what it was?" She asked with a shrug, and Gavi’s mouth dropped in surprise at how well she had read him. Gavi quickly glanced back, seeing that Pedri had a watchful eye on him. Gavi gave a small smile to his friend and turned his attention back to the girl beside him, ignoring the memory of the conversation he had with Pedri.

"No," she concluded, turning to face forward with a smug smile.

"It wasn’t anything important." Gavi replied, trying not to lose face, and she looked at him, surprised.

"Are you sure? You seemed really bothered," she insisted.

"Oh, querida, is this concern for me?" Gavi joked, watching Florence grimace.

"Never," the girl quickly retorted. Gavi nodded with a smug smile, raising his glass to his mouth.

"Why aren’t you over there with your girlfriend?" Gavi choked on the liquid he was drinking, drawing attention from a few people, and felt his face heat up. He looked up at the girl in front of him, eyebrows raised and an amused smile on her face.

"What are you talking about?" Gavi asked, clearing his throat. Florence tilted her head in a direction, and Gavi followed it, seeing the king and his family in the distance. This time, Gavi's face twisted into a grimace.

"Your fans attacked me for days, claiming I was ruining their couple," Florence said humorously, remembering the numerous hateful messages she received after the confusion in the last El Clásico. Gavi had seen some fan pages sharing things along those lines—it was funny. The player looked at Florence, who remained focused on the royal family’s table, and then looked back at him.

"Would you leave your career for her?" Gavi resisted the urge to choke on his air.

"What are you talking about?" He asked indignantly.

"For you to date someone from the royal family, you wouldn’t be able to be a football player anymore. Because of all the rules they have to follow and everything," Florence explained. Gavi scanned the girl’s face for any sign of mockery, but she was serious. For the first time, they were having more than just teasing conversations, and it stirred an odd sensation deep in his stomach.

"I’m not going to stop being a football player," Gavi said impatiently, just thinking about it gave him a headache. Florence tilted her head, analyzing him.

"So how are you going to be with your princess?" Gavi rolled his eyes.

"Stop it," he said, feeling frustrated, his face heat up. A mocking smile appeared on Florence's face.

"Or, she’d have to stop being a princess to be with you, which honestly would be a mistake. Imagine, giving up being a princess for you." Florence looked him up and down, and the action deeply infuriates Gavi.

"Have you stopped being a disappointment to your grandfather?" Gavi asked all at once. The words flew out of his mouth so quickly that even he was surprised. Here's the thing: she pushed a nerve in him, something that drove him crazy, something he only felt at the height of adrenaline in a tight game. Gavi had seen that her grandfather’s approval was important to her, and the silent, hidden crying he had also witnessed, told him that he had hit a sensitive topic. The girl looked at him in shock, her eyes wide for a moment as if he had just struck an exposed nerve. Anger flashed across her face, hardening her expression. For a moment, her lips trembled as if she were about to say something, but the words failed to come out. Instead, Florence clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, and with a sharp motion, she pushed Gavi. She spun on her heels, her legs rigid as she marched toward the exit, each step echoing on the floor like a relentless beat. Involuntarily, Gavi found himself following her.

"Leave me alone," Florence said over her shoulder, visible irritation in her voice.

"You’re losing your talent for insulting me," Gavi said, more annoyed than he wanted to admit. Florence turned to face him.

"Don’t worry about that. You’re an idiot, a terrible player, with a huge ego," Florence said all at once, and Gavi laughed.

"If I’m such a terrible player and I still beat your team, what does that make them?" Gavi asked humorously, and Florence rolled her eyes.

"You got lucky. You can’t rely on luck forever, Pablo," she said with a shrug, and Gavi was a bit shocked because up until then, she had never mentioned his name.

"Oh sure, when you lose it’s the other team’s luck, but when you win, you’re extraordinary, practically a Renaissance masterpiece," Florence furrowed her brows and let out a small laugh at the insult but quickly tried to hide it, turning away and continuing her escape from the hall. Gavi promptly continued following her to a distant area. On the way, they bumped into someone. An older man, accompanied by what was probably his family, looked familiar—some director of one of the leagues or something like that, Gavi couldn’t quite remember.

"Miss Perez, your grandfather hasn’t replied to my emails," the man said bluntly. Florence took a step back, bumping into Gavi, visibly uncomfortable.

"He’s busy," Florence said simply, ignoring the man’s outstretched hand, and then he turned his attention to the player.

"Gavi, you’re having a brilliant season."

"Thank you, sir," Gavi replied, returning the gesture. The player couldn’t see Florence’s expression clearly, but he was sure she was rolling her eyes.

"My daughter is a fan, Charlotte," the man turned to the shy girl behind him, who took a step forward. Gavi extended his hand to greet the girl, who blushed. Florence rolled her eyes—seriously, what was it with girls and their fascination with him? Florence impatiently poked him, and the player quickly turned, seeing a disapproving look on Florence’s face.

"Oh, so the rumors are true," the man pointed to the two of them. "I thought Florentino Perez would never allow it, but it’s good for the new generations to understand that rivalry is only on the field." Gavi frowned, trying to decipher the director’s words. Gavi turned his attention back to the man, visibly confused by the direction of the conversation. "A beautiful couple."

"Yes, we have to go," Florence quickly interrupted, grabbing Gavi’s arm and dragging him away from the conversation before he could process what was happening.

"What was that?" Gavi asked, his voice filled with irritation and confusion. "You just implied we’re together. Have you lost your mind?"

Florence gave him an impassive look. "He was going to ask for a picture, and believe me, you don’t want to be associated with that man. I did you a favor."

"Favor? You’re just making everything more complicated," Gavi shot back, his eyes fixed on Florence, searching for an explanation. There was something more behind that gesture, something he couldn’t quite grasp but that made him uncomfortable.

Before he could press her further, Pedri appeared beside them, a mischievous smile on his face. "Hey, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?" He asked, clearly curious about the tension between them.

Gavi averted his gaze from Florence, his blood boiling with frustration. "No, she’s leaving," he responded brusquely, his tone colder than he intended.

Florence raised an eyebrow, defiant. "I’m not. Nice to meet you, I’m Flo..." She extended her hand to Pedri, but before she could finish the introduction, Gavi grabbed her hand and dragged her away, his touch firm and decisive.

As they moved away from Pedri, Gavi led her to the table where a player from her club was sitting, but when they got there, he hesitated. There was a palpable tension in the air, a heavy silence that neither of them knew how to break. Florence looked at him, perplexed, her expression shifting between confusion and frustration.

Gavi abruptly let go of her hand, the warmth of the contact still pulsing on his skin. "Why do you feel the need to disrupt my life?" he muttered, more to himself than to her, but Florence heard him.

She took a step closer, narrowing the distance between them, her eyes shining with an intensity that made him hold his breath. "Isn't that what we both do?" she replied quietly, her voice laced with something deeper, something Gavi wasn’t ready to face. "Why are you so upset about this?" Her eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion.

Gavi stared at her for a long moment, lost in the intensity of that gaze. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words failed him. The strange sensation in his stomach that he had felt earlier was now almost unbearable. He knew he should say something, anything, but all he could do was shake his head and walk away, leaving Florence behind, unsure if he was running from her or himself.

Gavi walked away, the feeling of disorientation growing with each step. As he moved further, he realized that contrary to what he had imagined, Florence's presence still lingered in his mind, like a persistent echo. He tried to convince himself that the discomfort was just irritation, but the image of her intense gaze wouldn't leave his thoughts, her voice was imprinted deep in his mind. It was deafening and maddening, the space she had occupied in his head, and he couldn’t understand or control the effects she had on him.

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

Gavi walked quickly through the hallway leading to the box where his family was. For the past few weeks, he had been avoiding the people who knew him so well, especially his sister, who could read his mind with just one look. With the mess inside his head, he decided he didn’t want to face them, which is why he hadn’t been going to his family house. Instead, he hid away in his apartment in the city center, so he could be alone with his confusion without anyone asking him about it.

He hugged his family quickly and exchanged a few words, a slight discomfort hanging in the air. Then he said goodbye just as quickly, but not before his sister Aurora stepped in front of him and looked at him intently.

“What’s going on?” she asked directly. Gavi frowned and grimaced.

“Nothing, Aurorita.” Gavi forced a smile and saw the frown deepen on his sister’s face.

“You only call me that when you want something or are hiding something from me,” she concluded.

“I’m not hiding anything,” Gavi shrugged.

“But something is going on. You’ve been avoiding us, you look exhausted, and according to your friends, you’re more annoying than usual.” His sister looked at him with concern. Gavi swallowed hard, feeling the anger rising within him, but he knew it wasn’t fair to take it out on his own family.

“I swear, it’s not—” Gavi didn’t finish his sentence, because the voice he heard echoing from the hallway caught his attention. He looked back so fast he felt a strain in his neck, but there was no one there. Great, that damned voice was stuck in his head.

He turned his attention back to his sister, who was watching him curiously, but before he could continue speaking, the voice echoed again, this time louder. “I have to go,” he said quickly, kissing his sister on the cheek before pulling away.

He walked fast down the corridor, but his steps were cautious, once again that feeling that a monster might jump at him at any moment crept in. In an involuntary gesture, Gavi clenched his fists, a growing anger, a strange sensation burning in his chest. As he rounded the corner in the hallway, he saw the monster that had been haunting his mind.

She was leaning against the wall, her phone pressed to her ear, one hand on her hip. Florence’s eyes were closed as she listened attentively to the voice on the other end of the line. She seemed completely absorbed in the conversation, her face drawn in visible frustration. Gavi, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, watched the scene with a sick satisfaction. Seeing her suffer comforted him in a way he refused to admit. It was a relief to know that, like him, she was also under pressure.

“What do you want me to do?” she said in a louder tone, breaking the bubble of concentration she was in. Gavi narrowed his eyes, realizing she hadn’t yet noticed his presence. A sly smile formed on his lips as he impulsively decided he wanted to interrupt whatever was happening.

“You’re not at your home to be yelling like that,” he said casually, not caring if the person on the other end of the line could hear him. And there it was, big blue eyes, looking straight at him. Florence’s response was an eye roll as if his presence was insignificant.

“No, I’m not,” she said into the phone, completely ignoring Gavi, which instantly irritated him.

.“I can’t do that, and I won’t,” she continued, her eyes now fixed on his. He saw impatience growing in her, but he also noticed something deeper, something he rarely saw: her eyes began to shine with a repressed emotion. She was becoming emotional, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

Without thinking twice, Gavi crossed the hallway with firm steps, snatching the phone from Florence’s hand and ending the call without ceremony. The gesture was brusque and impulsive, but seeing the surprise and anger in her eyes made him feel... Something.

“What did you do?” Florence practically shouted, her voice filled with disbelief. Gavi froze for a second, only then realizing what he had done. Her expression grew even more perplexed when, out of pure reflex, he covered her mouth with one hand.

“I already told you, you’re not at your home to be yelling like that,” he said quickly, trying to maintain control. She frowned, and with a swift movement, pushed his hands away, her blue eyes sparkling with fury. Gavi felt a current of electricity run through his body at the brief contact, and he hated how that kept happening. His eyes locked on hers for a second longer than necessary, and he found himself wondering if she felt it too.

“Have you gone mad? He’s going to be furious,” she muttered, more to herself than to him, which only increased the tension. Florence made a desperate attempt to retrieve her phone, but Gavi lifted it out of her reach.

She grunted, frustrated and visibly exhausted. “Can you stop being so annoying?” she asked, almost in exasperation. For a brief moment, Gavi let his eyes wander over her face, and suddenly he understood. The weight of the conversation. It was about her grandfather. Of course it was about him.

Florence rarely showed vulnerability, especially not in front of him. But whenever her grandfather was involved, it was like an invisible wall came crashing down around her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, her voice lower now, but still full of tension. Gavi frowned, confused.

“I don’t need your pity,” she snapped, crossing her arms in front of her body in a gesture of self-protection. Gavi noticed the movement. It was subtle but clear. A barrier. He knew that gesture; he had seen it many times. Maybe she wasn’t as impenetrable as she wanted to seem. And knowing that made him feel a mix of power and discomfort.

“I don’t pity you,” he replied, letting out a short laugh. She rolled her eyes again, but this time, without the same force. When she didn’t throw a quick retort, he decided to press her. “Quite the opposite... I’m just making sure you behave. Like I said, you’re not at home.”

“Thank God I’m not,” Florence shot back. “I’d be extremely upset if this were my house.”

Gavi narrowed his eyes. “Are you ready to lose?” he asked, his voice dripping with provocation.

“Vinicius is going to destroy you today,” she replied confidently, making Gavi laugh out loud.

“You wish, querida,” he said with disdain. At that moment, Florence’s phone vibrated in his hand, and without thinking, Gavi glanced at the screen. The sight of a photo of Florence with the other player, he felt anger someway...

“Of course...” he muttered to himself before tossing the phone back to her, his irritation now evident.

Florence caught it in the air and looked at him for a moment before shaking her head, clearly exhausted from the exchange. Gavi, on the other hand, felt something shift inside him. He was eager for the game, not just because it would be the last El Clásico at Camp Nou before the stadium renovations, but because, somehow, something else was consuming him from within. Something he couldn’t name.

When the ball started rolling, Gavi played with unmatched intensity. He was truly having the game of his life, but his teammates didn’t seem to keep up with his pace. Misplaced passes, missed goals—it all piled up. He was furious.

"You need to tone down your intensity, or you’ll end up getting sent off," Xavi warned during the halftime break.

Gavi let out a sarcastic chuckle. "If the rest of the team was playing, I wouldn’t have to," he muttered. The locker room fell silent for a brief moment. He waited for some reaction, but nothing came. Xavi kept talking, and everyone started getting ready for the second half.

As he put on his jersey, he felt Pedri’s gaze on his back, watching his every move.

“What?” Gavi asked, frustrated.

“I thought we agreed you’d ignore her,” said Pedri, reminding him of the last conversation they had. Gavi rolled his eyes.

“I am,” he replied, frowning.

“Then why did Aurora text me asking what you had with her?” Pedri turned his phone, showing a picture of Gavi and Florence in the hallway.

“Aurora are being nosy. And so are you,” Gavi said, his patience running thin. “And why are you so interested? Are you interested in her?”

Pedri laughed. “As if you’d let that happen.”

That phrase hit him in a way he hadn’t expected. It bothered him deeply. “Man, I’m not trying to push your buttons,” Pedri started, but Gavi cut him off.

“Then don’t,” he shot back, his voice cold. “You’re annoying me with this. Nothing is going on, so stop getting involved.”

Pedri raised his hands in surrender, stepping back. But Gavi was already at his limit. He stormed out of the locker room, bursting with pent-up energy.

In the second half, his intensity only grew. The frustration with Pedri, the confusion about Florence, the team’s mediocre performance—all of it boiled inside him. When Vinicius Jr. ran down the left side of the field. Gavi didn’t think. He slid in, taking the player down aggressively.

Chaos ensued. Real Madrid players rushed at him, and Gavi, of course, didn’t back down. He shoved Benzema, who was yelling in his face until the referee intervened. Vinicius got up with a mocking smile, and Gavi tried to go at him again, only to be held back by his teammates.

The red card was inevitable.

Laughing in disdain, he walked off the field. His eyes drifted toward the box seats as if trying to spot Florence. The anger boiled inside him. As he shrugged off Xavi, who was both trying to confront and reprimand him, he headed straight for the locker room, ignoring everything and everyone.

When he turned the corner, there she was, sitting on a bench. He huffed, frustrated.

He huffed, frustrated. "Not now, Florence. I’m not in the mood for your provocations." His words came out harsher than he intended, but it was the truth. Her presence stirred something in him that he didn’t know how to deal with. She slowly raised her gaze from her phone, with an expression he couldn’t read. The air between them suddenly felt heavier, as if something unspoken hung in the space between them.

"Not everything I do is about you, querido." Florence shot back, but this time, there was no teasing. The absence of mockery in her tone threw him off. It was rare to see her like this, without her usual wall of sarcasm. And for a second, he felt an opening, a crack in the wall she kept so high. "But if you want some advice..."

"I don’t," Gavi said sharply. What was it with the people close to him today wanting to give him advice and tell him what to do? Florence stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and Gavi felt his throat go dry at the sudden closeness. His eyes ran over her face—there was no sign of irony, no sign of irritation, but still, Gavi could see that lingering glimmer in her eyes, the one he had promised himself he would strip away so he could see it more clearly.

"Your intensity and provocation on the field will be appreciated up to a certain point. But at some point, it’s going to get annoying, to the point where even your fans will start to hate it," she said in a surprisingly calm tone. That caught him off guard. Florence rarely spoke with such gentleness. She looked him straight in the eyes, and Gavi felt a discomfort growing in his chest.

That was new, and he didn’t know how to handle it. His mind immediately went back to when he saw her at the gala dinner hosted by the king, and she stopped him from taking pictures with a guest, someone Gavi later realized wouldn’t have been a good association. He looked at her, confused.

Florence raised her eyebrows, waiting for a response. He wanted to speak, but he didn’t know what to say. Could she be right? The doubt appeared quickly and annoyingly, but he pushed it away. No. He was playing well, and giving it his all. There was nothing wrong with that. Still, the uneasiness grew.

Ignoring how he felt, he turned his back on her and headed for the locker room. But no matter how hard he tried, her words echoed in his head. The discomfort increased. Why was this bothering him so much? Maybe she wasn’t wrong. Maybe he was so surprised by the calm and honest tone that he didn’t know how to react. That wasn’t her, that wasn’t them. The player stopped on his heel and turned back. Immediately, a smirk appeared on the girl's face.

"You know what, I don’t need your advice. You can’t just sit on your pedestal and think you have any superiority to talk to me." Gavi snapped, completely annoyed.

“Okay...” she replied with amusement. “I told you I wasn’t your good luck charm.” She raised her brows. Gavi furrowed his, confused, and then his mind recalled when he had made that connection. There it was—the provocation, the irony. That he could handle, that he could push back against. Gavi chose not to respond, so he turned and continued on his way without saying another word.

Gavi had declined his usual ride with Pedri, still embarrassed by the way he had treated his friend. He also didn’t want to go with his family because they would ask questions about his mood and his expulsion, especially his sister, who would bombard him with comments, and the last thing he wanted was to be rude to yet another person that night.

So now he was with his friend Chris, about to enter his friend’s girlfriend’s house. It was funny how Chris had a key to her parents’ house and everything, for someone who swore the relationship wasn’t serious, it was at quite an advanced stage.

“Baby,” Danielle said as soon as Chris walked in, kissing and hugging him. Gavi quickly looked away from the scene, feeling awkward for a few minutes. “Oh, you brought company,” Danielle said, stepping away from her boyfriend and greeting Gavi with a quick hug.

“You're okay with it, right?” Chris asked, and Gavi wanted to kill him because he had sworn he had already talked to her.

“Yeah, it’s just... well, I had to bring someone too,” Danielle said, somewhat hesitant.

“Oh, it’s fine, it’s not like we’re short on rooms. If it’s a cute girl, they could even share a room, and Gavi could finally get out of his rut.” Gavi flipped his friend off while Danielle let out an overly loud and awkward laugh. Chris looked at her, confused.

“They’d kill each other before that happens...” she muttered under her breath, but Gavi heard it, which confused him until he heard footsteps coming from the stairs and a familiar voice that had been haunting him everywhere.

“Dani, are these the only towels you have?” Silence fell when the figure appeared at the top of the stairs, distracted by something on her phone, not even bothering to look up. Danielle quickly glanced between her boyfriend and Gavi.

“Florence, darling, I told you we don’t have 500-thread Egyptian cotton towels or anything like that. We’re mere mortals. My mom was hoping you’d bring some so she could steal them from you,” Danielle said, walking toward what Gavi now realized was her friend. The girl finally lifted her eyes to her friend and then noticed there were more people there.

“Oh, hi, Chris...” She came down the last step and then got a full view of Gavi. “You’ve got to be kidding me...” she said, shocked. Gavi rolled his eyes.

“Oh, right,” Chris said, finally catching on. “You guys are enemies and all that,” he said, moving to stand next to his girlfriend. Gavi was in his bubble of shock. He quickly glanced around and realized that Danielle’s house was the same one where Chris had hosted his last party, where he had also ended up running into Florence. Gavi had always wanted to ask how his friend knew Florence but had never had the chance—or needed to.

Florence crossed her arms in front of her body and raised an eyebrow at Gavi. If she expected him to greet her, she could keep waiting. All he wanted was to end the night in peace; she had already disturbed his life enough that day. He must have seriously offended the universe with how it was playing tricks on him. With the distance between Madrid and Barcelona, and considering the teams only had four Clásicos that year, their encounters were becoming strangely frequent.

It was almost as if his hatred for her had the power to transport her directly into his reality.

Gavi looked at his friend and saw him whispering something to Danielle, who was watching the scene, concerned. Before anyone could say anything, the doorbell rang.

“Thank God...” Danielle exhaled. “It must be the pizza.” She laughed awkwardly and walked past everyone to the door. Before Gavi could see who it was, he noticed Florence’s eyes widen, her mouth dropping open in shock, which made him turn quickly, seeing a tall man dressed in a suit.

“I’m not going back,” she said, her voice rising, with something Gavi couldn’t identify as anger or disappointment.

“Come on, Florence, your grandfather told me not to leave here without you. And if necessary, to carry you.” The man sounded impatient. Gavi looked back at Florence; her eyes were bright, and her face was turning red. That strange feeling inside Gavi returned.

“Well, tell him you didn’t find me,” Florence said simply.

“Your grandfather knows this is the only place you’d come. He asked me to remind you that you’re still a minor, and he’s responsible for you when your parents aren’t around.” The man continued. Florence let out a bitter laugh.

“Well, you’ll have to carry me then because I’m not going voluntarily,” Florence retorted, defiant. Gavi glanced at the man by the door. Despite his cold posture, Gavi could sense worry and hesitation in his face.

“He said if you don’t come with me, he’ll disinherit you, and you’re fired from your club duties.” Silence fell over the room to the point where even breathing could no longer be heard. Gavi lowered his eyes to the floor, somewhat shocked by the direction the conversation had taken, and also refused to look at Florence because he knew if he did, that strange feeling inside him would return to haunt him.

“Incredible,” she said with a shaky breath, and it was impossible not to look at her. She swallowed hard, her eyes briefly falling on Gavi’s, and he saw her face turn red again. Gavi wanted to make some sarcastic comment, maybe smirk at the situation, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to; he just kept his eyes on hers.

“Florence, your grandfather will disinherit you when he finds out about this,” the man said more firmly, noticing the exchange of looks between the two. Gavi looked at him, confused about what he was referring to. Florence sighed heavily and walked past everyone, grabbing the bag that was on the couch. She quickly hugged Danielle.

“I’ll see you in Madrid,” she said, kissing her friend on the cheek and heading out the door, bumping into the driver.

Danielle quickly closed the door and then turned to Gavi.

“I know you love provoking her, but if you tell anyone about this or use it against her, I’ll kill you myself,” she said firmly to Gavi, who widened his eyes. He didn’t know if he was more shocked by the way she had spoken to him or by the fact that Florence had talked about him with someone and even blamed him for their situation. If it was her who provoked him, ironically, Danielle’s words had no effect, as Gavi couldn’t suppress the internal laugh at the thought that he now had something to continue his exchange with Florence.

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a/n: I hope you guys have like this one, let me know... We probably won't have the same scheme as it was with pedriii, with three chapters, and bonus ones.

[sweetyyhippyy]

Secret. Steve Harrington x plus size fem! reader. *Angst/Fluff*

Summary: Steve and his girlfriend have a secret relationship. She wants that to change, but she fears he cares more about his reputation.

Word Count: 2.8k

TW: Allusion to car sex, mentions of body shaming, Steve caring too much about his reputation and being clueless, a bit of cheese.

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“You okay, honey?” Steve nudges his nose against hers softly, his body laying on top of hers in the backseat of his car. His hairy chest presses up against her bare chest. 

The air in the car was heavy, the smell of her perfume and his cologne mixed with the scent of sex. 

“Yeah, I’m good Stevie.” She smiles, pushing his hair back out of his face. “Just trying to come back to life a little bit.” 

“You did so good, baby.” Steve kisses her lips sweetly, his hand holding her round cheek lovingly. “Always do.” He smiles before kissing her again. 

Steve and her had been seeing each other for 6 months, but nobody at school knew about it other than her sister and her best friend Robin. 

They both thought it was for the best that they keep their relationship quiet because of Steve’s friends and how cruel they could be. 

She was brainy, beyond pretty, and super sweet to everyone. 

Steve’s biggest worry was that his friends would make fun of her appearance. 

She was one of the more curvaceous girls at school, and people already made snarky comments about her body, and somehow the comments always got back to her. She never let the comments bother her, she felt confident in her looks. 

She wasn’t his normal type physically, but he loved and cared about her more than he had anyone else in his dating history. He always did little things to show her how much she meant to him: telling her how beautiful she was, spending his weekends with her whether it was at his house or hers, giving her a necklace with a heart charm. 

At first she was all on board with the secret relationship, only giving each other small glances in the cafeteria and friendly smiles in the hallway. She appreciated the fact that Steve wanted to keep her away from the offensive remarks of his shitty friends. 

Within the last few months, she started to regret their arrangement. She wanted to walk the halls with Steve holding hands while they go to class together, sit with him at lunch while he stole kisses from her, to go on dates in town and not in the next town over to avoid someone from school seeing them. 

She couldn't help but feel like maybe he was embarrassed of her. 

Prom was two weeks away, and she really wanted to go with Steve. There was multiple girls around school who were brave enough to ask Steve to go with them, but he turned them down, saying prom was lame and wasn’t his scene. 

She pulls back from the kiss first, regretfully so. “I gotta be home in 20 minutes, Steve.” 

Steve looks at the watch on his wrist. “Shit, lost track of time.” He kisses her forehead before sitting back up and rummaging through the discarded clothes in the front seat, handing her the stuff that belonged to her. 

“Stevie… can I ask you something?” She breaks the silence as she tries to slip her skirt on. 

“Of course babe. What’s on your mind?” He asks, throwing his shirt on. 

She chews on the inside of her cheek, trying to figure out the best way of going about her question. “Do you ever think about, you know… maybe changing our arrangement?” 

Steve raises his eyebrow, his mind already running through the possible scenarios she’s talking about. “What do you mean?”

“I mean us being a secret. Do you ever think about us not being a secret couple anymore?” 

Steve leans back in the back seat, looking at his girlfriend and the quizzical look on her face. “I have, yeah. I just…” He sighs, his voice trailing at the end of the sentence.  

“Just what?” The pit in her stomach growing harder. “Steve, I can’t be a secret anymore.” 

“I know baby, I know. I’m just afraid of wh-,”

“You’re just afraid of what your stupid friends are going to say.” She interrupts. “Are you ashamed of what I look like?” 

“What? Honey, no, no. I love the way you look, you know that.” He slides closer to her, softly taking her cheek and turning her to look at him. “I think you’re so beautiful, baby. I just don’t want my friends to say something about you and it hurt your feelings.” 

“Wouldn’t you stick up for me? Tell them to leave me alone?” 

“O-of course I would.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

She pulls back from his hand, a knot in her throat forming. “You hesitated.” 

“I didn’t mean to! Baby, please can we talk about this?” 

She shakes her head, sighing to herself. “I gotta get home, Steve. My dad will flip if I’m late again.” She grabs her shoes from the floor, avoiding eye contact with him. 

Steve sighs, getting out of the back of the car and heading to the driver's side to take her home. He watches her in the rear view mirror as she gets redressed and waits for her to join him up front, hoping to continue the conversation. 

She slides back in the backseat, grabbing the seatbelt and fastening it across her chest, her gaze looking out the window. 

He sighs again, turning the key and driving out of the empty lot. 

*** 

The entire ride back to her house was silent, Steve was too distracted to even put the radio on. 

He felt like the worst boyfriend, if she even wanted to consider him that anymore. 

Of course he would have defended her against anyone at school who dared said anything negative about her, he was too hung up on what his friends would say to him. 

He knew it was low and it was shallow and that it made him a piece of shit, but his image meant a lot to him, but so did she. He felt guilty even admitting in his head that. 

The car rolls into her driveway, getting her home 5 minutes early. 

Steve parks the car and turns to the backseat, hoping to talk more with his girlfriend before she went in for the night. 

He watched her grab her bag and jacket, not once looking up at him nor speaking to him, and shove the door open. “Honey, just wait a second.” 

Steve opens his door, following her up to her front door. “Can you give me just 30 seconds?” 

She looks up at him for the first time since their conversation in the backseat, her eyes glossy and slightly puffy from tears that she had wiped away silently on the ride home. “Just give me some space, Steve.” She shakes her head as she turns away from him to unlock her door and walk in, slamming the door in his face. 

“Fuck.” Steve sighs, a pit in his stomach forming. He wanted to ring the doorbell and beg her to answer the door, but he knew she hated his guts right now. 

Steve hated his own guts. 

*** 

The weekend came and went, Steve had called all weekend wanting to talk to her but she gave her sister the job of telling him to stop calling- which he didn’t do. 

She pulls into the parking lot of school, the parking lot always busier than normal on Mondays. She finds an empty spot in the middle of the busy parking lot and pulls in. 

“Are you going to talk to hair boy?” Her sister, Lyla asks as she collects her bag from the backseat. 

She shoots her sister a disapproving look, rolling her eyes. “Don’t call him that. And probably not. We never talk at school anyway so.” She shrugs her shoulders. 

“Are you guys going to break up?” 

She sighs, looking out the windshield. “I don’t know, Lyla. I love him a lot, but I also want to be able to love him in public, not in secret anymore.” 

“If my opinion means anything, I think you deserve to be shown off by the person you love.  Definitely not hidden.” 

She looks over at her sister, giving her a warm smile. “Look at us having grown up conversations. Thanks Lyla.” 

As she heads into the building, she looks around the halls for Steve, wondering if he would show up to school today. 

She stops at her locker to grab a book she needed for her English class. From behind her she could hear the unmistakable goose like honk come from Tommy as he laughed about something funny. 

She looks at the mirror that hung on the inside of her locker door, seeing all of Steve’s friends over by Carol’s locker talking and laughing. Her eyes land on Steve, meeting his eyes in the reflection. 

He stared at her from afar, wanting to walk up to her and hug her, tell her how sorry he was for being a dickhead. Steve also wanted to tell her that she looked pretty in the baby blue skirt she was wearing, he loved the color blue on her. 

“Steve!” Becca snaps in his face to wake him from his daydream. 

He blinks quickly, looking down and glaring at Becca. “What?” He quips at her. 

“I asked if you were skipping first period. The bell just rang.” 

“Oh, uh… no. I gotta get going.” He pushes past Tommy and Carol, hoping to meet his girlfriend at her locker as he passed by, but as he looked down the hall he could see the back of her head halfway to her class. 

***

The morning flew by and the cafeteria was loud and buzzing. 

Her friend Robin waved her down from the corner of the cafeteria with a big smile on her face. 

She moves through the room of people over to their usual lunch table, putting the plastic tray down next to Robin’s. “Hey.” She smiles at her, sitting next to her. 

“Hey. So remember how I told you my mom was going on a baking frenzy this weekend? I told her how big a fan you are of her brownies and I brought you some.” She slides a bag over to her. 

“Thanks Robin. I actually really needed something to make me smile today.” 

“Uh-oh. Something happen with Mr. Perfect this weekend?” 

She gives Robin a flat face, nodding her head. 

“Does that mean I’m coming over after school for hot chocolate and girl talk?” 

She can’t help but snort out a laugh. “Hot chocolate? Robin, it’s May.” 

“But girl talk always has hot chocolate.” The tone of her voice sounding offended that she was denying her of hot chocolate. 

Before she can banter back with Robin the chair across from them screeches as it gets pulled back and someone sits down in it. 

“Ladies.” Steve smiles his best “million dollar smile” at them, his gaze lingering on hers. 

A few of the other people sitting at the table look at Steve with raised brows and confused faces. 

Was he lost? 

“What are you doing?” She asks, furrowing her eyebrows at him. 

“I want to talk to you. I’m hoping you want to talk to me too.” 

She chews on the inside of her bottom lip, looking down at her lunch tray. 

“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. But at least hear me out?” 

Her eyes flick up to stare at him, motioning at him with her hand for him to speak. 

“I’m a jerk, I know that and I need to work on that. But I want you to know more importantly, I love you so much, I love everything about you and I hope you can forgive me for what happened on Friday night.” 

“Wow.” Robin pipes up from next to her, shoving a chip in her mouth. “That was good. It took you all weekend to come up with that?”

Steve can’t help but shoot her a confused look. 

“Robs.” She sighs, digging into her backpack to retrieve a crumpled up dollar. “How about you go get yourself a soda and walk back real slow?” 

Robin snatches the money from her friend and stands up. “Okay but I want a word for word conversation break down tonight… with hot chocolate.” She whispers in her ear as she walks away. 

She shakes her head at her friend before focusing back on Steve. 

His face looked hopeful as he stared at her, waiting for her to speak to him. 

“Steve, my problem was never you not loving me. My problem is I asked if you wanted to change our arrangement and you showing me off as your girlfriend. My problem is I feel like you’re embarrassed to do any of that because of how I look. That’s my problem.” 

Steve sighs, fidgeting with his hands on the table. “I’m not embarrassed. I’ll admit that I was a little nervous of what people would say to me about dating you and I thought people would talk shit. But I realized that I would rather have that, than to not have you.” 

She drops her gaze from him, going silent for a while, racking her brain for the best way to say what was on her mind. 

“Talk to me, honey.” 

“I feel like… I feel like it shouldn’t have taken us getting into it for you to realize that you would rather have me in your life than to deal with people whispering about you and your girlfriend in the halls, Steve.” 

Steve was speechless, this was not how he expected things to go at all. 

“Maybe us dating wasn’t such a good idea after all, Steve. I don’t think you’re ready for a relationship with someone that you aren’t comfortable with being public with.” She grabs her backpack and gets up out of the chair, starting to walk away from the table. 

“Wait! Wait, honey no, don’t walk away please?” He pleads as he flies out of his chair and grabs her hand. 

She stops mid step, getting pulled back toward Steve’s body. 

“I don’t care about my reputation, I don’t care what anyone has to say about our relationship. Yes I should have realized that sooner, but after not talking to you all weekend and not having you by my side, I know that i can’t handle not having you in my corner again. I can’t handle losing you.” He says softly to her. “Please, let me show you I can do all the things you want me to do. Let me prove I’m ready.” 

Tears looked like they could fall from Steve’s big chestnut eyes any second, the palm of his hand felt clammy as he held her. 

“Okay.” She says, barely audible enough for Steve to hear. 

“Yeah?” Steve smiles at her. “Yeah? Okay, just wait right here, right there for two seconds. Don’t move.” He lets go of her hand and walks away and behind her. 

She awkwardly stands in the middle of the cafeteria, earning a few glances from other students who were sitting in the surrounding tables. 

Her eyes catch Robin on the other side of the cafeteria as she scans the room for any sign of Steve. 

“What’s he doing?” She mouths. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. 

For a split second she sees Robin’s attention turn to behind her friend, a small pout forming on her face before a bouquet of flowers comes into her vision. 

She follows the flowers up toward Steve, a warm smile on her face as she takes the bouquet from him. 

Steve clears his throat loudly, lifting his foot up and jumping up onto the top of the table, making a few of the girls there gasp loudly. 

“Excuse me!” Steve bellows, earning looks from more than half the room. “Hey! Shut up.” 

She’s frozen in her spot, her heart beating out of her chest as she watches Steve. 

What was he doing? 

“I wanted to ask my girlfriend, yes my beautiful girlfriend of six months, if she would do me the honor of going to prom with her idiot boyfriend.” 

Quiet whispers scatter throughout, more than likely wondering if Steve really referred to her as his girlfriend, and if he really asked her to prom. 

“Steven!” She says through her teeth, feeling hot in her face at the attention she was getting. 

“What do you say, honey? You want to go to prom together?” 

All eyes were on her, waiting for her to answer. 

“Yeah I’ll go to prom with you. Please get down.” She looks at him with pleading eyes, feeling embarrassed that everyone was looking at them. 

Steve jumps down from the table top, grabbing her cheeks and kissing her lips. 

The normal commotion of the cafeteria goes back after Steve puts his feet on the floor, everyone already losing interest in the new to them, old to her and Steve’s relationship. 

“You’re nuts, Steve.” 

“Yeah, nuts about you.” 

She can’t help but laugh loudly, “Eww you cheeseball.” She fake gags. “All jokes aside, thank you for doing that.” She says as she presses a kiss to his cheek. “No matter how embarrassing that was.” She jokes.

Steve looks over to the table his friends usually sits at, Carol, Tommy, Becca, and Lucas all giving them glaring stares. He sighs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “You want to officially introduce me to Robin?”

“You don’t know what you’re in for.” She quips. 

[pipiririo]

hi! i have a request idea

the characters with a lot of charisma and seem more confident e.g oikawa, kuroo, Gojo. there confident facade breaks and yn comforts them perhaps after a long day or something 🫠

feel no pressure for this and take care :))

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。•

Beneath The Mask

characters: tooru oikawa, tetsurou kuroo, satoru gojo

warning: small nsfw joke

[word count: 1489]

Request by our first anon! Ty anon, I hope you like it🙂‍↕️

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。•

Summary: Seemingly unattainable goals, long days, and high expectations may cause certain people to rip at the seams. Luckily for them, they will always have someone at their side to sow them back together.

Oikawa—

✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Tooru was not normally one to let his emotions get the best of him, especially not during a game. When you had watched him begin to drink bottles upon bottle of water whilst his eyes kept darting to the scoreboard, you knew something was wrong. He was someone who focused all of his attention on the success of his team, not of him as an individual. But because today he was hyper-fixated on an individual, he responded with the same actions.

You were worried, to say the least.

These past two months all you have seen from him is constant smiles as he gave the best advice to his teammates and even his classmates. He would smile to all of his fan girls and when he was finally able to walk home with you, he would stay quiet. Being quiet for him indicated that he was exhausted. Who could blame him? He was putting in all this effort for the people around him, yet it was simply not enough.

Nothing was ever enough to Tooru Oikawa.

Luckily for him though, everything he did was more than enough for you.

And now here you were with an exhausted Tooru laying his head on your lap as he ranted about the past few months. You gently raked one of your hands through his brown hair. From the way he was lying, his hair flopped backwards, revealing his forehead. He heavily sighed before continuing with his next tale.

“Oh, and get this—he told me I should’ve gone to shiratorizawa. Can you believe the nerve?!” He complained.

You slightly chuckled as you closed your eyes. Your free hand rested gently against his cheek. “Unfortunately, I believe it. You know he’s been like this since middle school, Tooru.” You replied. This was something you did every once in a while in order to let him know that you were still listening.

He let out a deep breath as he slowly relaxed his body in order to lean into your touch.

It became silent until he spoke up.

“Sorry you have to listen to—“ Before he could finish, the hand that was resting against his cheek quickly covered his mouth in order to block his next few words. He opened his eyes in surprise to meet your own. He was in awe as he was met with your caring gaze.

“How many times have I told you to stop apologizing to me?” You asked with an eyebrow raised.

He decided to test you, removing your hand from his face in order to speak.

“Don’t you have essays to write? How about you—“

Your lips interrupted him as you gently placed them atop of his own. A slow and very small peck, but one that undoubtedly worked.

Instead of being surprised, he smiled a smug smile.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so stubborn. You had best be glad I love you.”

Kuroo—

✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Tetsu?” You looked up from your phone as you heard some steps rushing towards you. Your eyes narrowed in worry as you noticed that the black haired bed head seemed to have been looking for you everywhere. You assumed that it only occurred to him they you would be waiting for him in the same spot where you meet up after practice.

“What’s wro—“ Your voice was cut off by his arms pulling you towards him in a strong yet loving embrace. By his lack of words, you had already figured something overwhelming must have happened either at practice or with one of the advanced classes he was taking.

There weren’t many people around anymore since it was about two hours past school hours and most people’s club’s had already ended, so you didn’t have to worry about someone passing by the two of you. You knew this moment in time was something that Tetsurou wanted to keep between the two of you.

It took you a moment to get your thoughts together, silently melting into him as your hand rubbed small circles against his back. Your lips slowly parted and you spoke twirly and softly.

“Do you want to come over to my place? I’ll order us food.” You tried to negotiate with him to make him feel better, and it seemed to have worked as he pulled away with a smirk on his face.

“Maybe I should get upset more often. I don’t really see you like this often.” He joked, causing you to snort.

“Next time I’ll just kick you into a better mood.” You replied to his little joke, pulling away to grab him by the hand instead. You lightly pulled to motion for him to walk. “Now—walk and talk. What happened?” You finally ask.

He accedes to your gesture and begins to walk hand in hand with you. He shrugged and looked up as he explained. “Being a captain and president isn’t easy work, you know.” He said nonchalantly.

‘Ah, so he is overwhelmed. And it’s college application season…’

“Trust me, I know. The student council doesn’t take excuses for late paperwork easily. Besides, it’s college season. You can take a day off, you know.” You reassured him.

He only responded with a small laugh. “I guess so.”

The walk back to your house was rather quiet, but it was a calming quiet. The Sakura trees were in full bloom even as the sky turned from a shade of orange to a soft shade of pink and purple.

“Thanks.” Tetsurou’s voice filled your ears suddenly as you neared your house. When you had looked up to him with a raised eyebrow, you noticed that he wasn’t looking your way. Rather, he was looking straight ahead. Seemed like he was a bit embarrassed when it came to things like that.

You smiled and leaned into him, your head against his arm.

“Any time.”

Gojo—

✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Sooo…are you gonna explain that last message or…?” You tapped your foot against the wooden floors, your back resting against the wall behind you whilst the man in front of you took off his jacket, leaving him in a button up. His glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose. He threw the jacket over to the couch beside you, which distracted you. You turned your head to see the jacket land, but ended up feeling Satoru’s arms wrap around your waist and pulling you up.

You gasped in surprise, looking at him in bewilderment as he carried you over to your shared bedroom. He plopped you down on the bed and joined you shortly afterwords by laying damn near on top of you, knocking your breath out of you.

He then sighed dramatically. “Just tired.” He mumbled as he buried his head at the crook of your neck. In turn, you sighed at his antics, but you knew he would usually laugh it off it wasn’t something important.

“The strongest can express his emotions too, you know~?” You spoke in a sing-song voice, trying to motivate him to speak.

Unfortunately, Satoru was not a man that would budge so easily.

“The strongest has to stay that way for his fiancée to actually want him.” He retaliated.

You rolled your eyes and smacked the back of his head. His glasses fell off his face and landed on your chest. You picked them up and closed them gently to place them on the bedside counter. When you turned back to look at him, he was looking at you with his crystalline eyes.

“I like Satoru, the man who goes crazy over kikufuku. Having ‘Gojo’, the strongest man, is simply a bonus. Now if you were a bum like a certain beggar, then that would be different.” You reassured him as you raked your hand through his hair.

Satoru laughed at your explanation before placing soft pecks to your collarbone.

I few minutes of the same routinely affections, you pat the back of his head to signal for him to get up.

“Are you gonna eat the kikufuku or are you just gonna let it get hard?” You asked him with a feigned annoyed voice. However, his next words caused you to push him off of you.

“Something else is already hard unfortunately. Do you wanna deal with that first~?”

“Yeah, you’re done. I’m eating them by myself.”

He quickly got up to run after you, chasing you around your house as you tempted him with the kikufuku in your hands, a grin on your face. He eventually caught you after letting you have your fun and made the two of you fall on the couch with him on top of you. He grabbed one of the kikufuku and took a bite, whilst you bit the other end.

The Strongest was a title given at birth, but Satoru is who he chose to be. It just so happened to be the person you chose to be with for the rest of your life, too.

~

I am posting this half asleep bcs I have work tmrw morning 😾 (im going to blow my head off)

Anywho, I hope everyone liked it!

I’ll knock out the next requests tmrw!

—

Animated dividers created by @/cafekitsune!

[lyrisnightblood]

Dear "lovely" "canon Jiang Cheng Stans",

I see what you're doing here. I can see y'all talk about "book meta" and "writing Jiang Cheng as canonically accurate" and you know what?

Y'all are doing a fantastic job, keep it up 😍🎉

Yeah really! I mean it!

Y'all are doing a fantastic job showcasing just how utterly pathetic y'all are, how chronically online y'all are, and most importantly, y'all are doing a marvellous job showcasing your hate boner for a fictional character you claim to hate and is an "antagonist".

Keep up the lovely work y'all, show the world how you lack an ounce of reading comprehension, you booktok obsessed peeps!

And while you're at it, let me go spittin' facts, straight from the book.

Jiang Yanli is dead. End of the story. You can fantasize to your heart's content about how "she'll react to JC raising her son" and get your pants in a twist about all the bad things she'll supposedly say, but that's just it. You can only imagine it.

You know why?

Hmm idk cos she's fucking dead and no one knows what the dead wants?

This is exactly like "Don't do this your mother wouldn't have wanted this of you" "don't talk like you know my mother she's dead and i don't know what she wanted cos she's dead"

Well

I should've expected such callous behaviour from antis 🤷

Admit it, y'all wanted Wei Wuxian to raise Jin Ling huh? C'mon, don't be shy🥰 you can say that

Except your fave never could've raised Jin Ling cos 1) as if the Jin Sect would let their Sect heir be raised by the jianghu's most wanted person (Gasp, "wEi wUxIaN sLaNdEr" love check your books even wwx acknowledges that fact lolll) and 2) how tf could a dead man, no less a man who's soul got ripped into shards, take care of a baby?

"but Jin Guangyao was a better parental figure, and an actual parent"

Yeah, a parent who killed his own child cos he was worried about his reputation (I can already smell y'all coming at me to defend him like chill, I only said the truth, and yes, man was more worried about people knowing he married his sister and losing position than the life of his own son, just because he loved Rusong didn't change the fact that he was ready to go to the extreme). Not to mention how Jin Guangyao held a string to his own nephew's neck and threatened to kill him to save his skin while it was Jiang Cheng who begged him to let Jin Ling go

Betcha Jiang Yanli's ghost is watching the scene while sipping tea and praising Jin Guangyao huh

"but one of Jin Zixuan's cousin-"

Jin Zixun is dead. And is a truly despicable person. Or did you forget how he insulted Wei Wuxian left and right?

Oh wait. Of course you forgot, "criticizing" Jiang Cheng takes precedence! My bad, i should've known!

Let me stop y'all before you say "Jin Guangshan". You must be the utterly worst person in the planet to want a known womanizer and child abuser and rapist to raise a child. IDC Jin Guangshan is related to Jin Ling. Y'all just want a known abuser and sexual predator to raise Jin Ling just say you don't give two cents about the poor boy except when you want to hate on Jiang Cheng 🙄

"what about Jin Furen"

Yeah what about her? Or did you forget how she canonically had a role to play in Jin Ling's upbringing?

Who do you think is responsible for Jin Ling spending half a year in Lotus Pier? Certainly not Jin Guangyao!

If there was one person in the Jin Sect who could have enough sway to ensure that her own grandson is spending a significant amount of time in another sect, it's Jin Furen.

Three guesses why she did that?

Lol you actually thought I'd wait for your guess? LMFAOOOOO you're so cute 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

She did that because Jin Furen cared for A-Li and - wait for it - A-Cheng!!!

Reread the books if you missed it, mmkay?

She was fond of Yu Ziyuan, and by extension her children, and post-SSC, she offered to support both of them on multiple occasions (which they declined because any political support from Jin Sect would've come with strings attached cos JGS😑)

Establishing the fact that Jin Furen cared for Jiang Cheng, she had agreed to Jin Ling spending half his time in Lotus Pier because she sensed that he was all Jiang Cheng had left, and vice versa.

Y'all also have utterly forgotten about the cruel way Jin Ling's paternal cousins have bullied him for being an orphan. Like, Koi Tower is supposed to be his home, and he was bullied to the point where Lotus Pier became his sanctuary.

"AHA! GOTCHA! QIN SU SHOULD'VE RAISED HIM!"

Laughing My Fricking Ass Off TM

My man Qin Su was RIGHT THERE! No one was stopping her from raising Jin Ling! She could've been the maternal figure Jin Ling needed! And no one would have questioned it, it was actually expected for that timeline.

Except.... Did she? Did she do anything to make Jin Ling feel loved? Has Jin Ling ever talked about his aunt the same way he talks about his uncles? Apart from the respect that he gives to her as his paternal uncle's wife, does Jin Ling refer to her fondly? Even once?

"Alright, your point?"

Why thank you for asking 💗😌

My point is that Jiang Cheng is canonically the best guardian for Jin Ling, and this conclusion comes AFTER analysing every other candidate.

And you know what?

I am absolutely right🎉💗🌸😻

Evidence?

Exhibit A: Jiang Cheng accompanying Jin Ling's nighthunt to look out for him but also keeps himself at a distance so that Jin Ling actually participates in the nighthunt

Exhibit B: Letting Fairy enter Lotus Pier despite the strict dog ban (which he had adhered to even after wwx died)

Exhibit C: Jin Ling never once flinches or looks scared when Jiang Cheng shows his temper and says "I'll break your legs", he knows his jiujiu is all bark but would never hurt him

Exhibit D: "how dare you hit me? Even my jiujiu had never hit me!" - Jin Ling to Wei Wuxian (who btw oh so casually hits Jin Ling as if it's a normal thing to hit a child💀)

Exhibit E: "A-Ling! Who made you cry?" - Jiang Cheng when he saw a crying Jin Ling. No admonishment. No Judgement. And certainly no anger directed at Jin Ling.

Exhibit F: Jin Ling being unafraid to cry in front of his jiujiu, he knows he won't be judged.

Exhibit G: Jiang Cheng saving Jin Ling on multiple occasions.

Exhibit H: Jiang Cheng begging Jin Guangyao to take him hostage and release Jin Ling, without hesitation, despite his spiritual energy being locked and being stabbed in the chest.

I could go on and on and on but unlike you lovely people who have no hobby other than slandering Jiang Cheng, I have TONS.

And also a life.

So, go fantasize about your Jiang Cheng hate boner elsewhere. I see your pathetic attempt at taking over the Canon Jiang Cheng tag and it ain't working.

Ciao 🤟

[ashthewaterghoul]

Are You Really Okay? - A DewTom One Shot

They tried to lean forwards for another kiss, sliding forward off the bed to straddle Dew. “No, Phantom. I called red.” Dew said while wriggling out from under Phantom. The hurt in Phantom’s eyes carved a hole in Dew’s chest. “You’re always so good for me, my perfect girl.” He cupped their tear and snot striped face in his hands, “But I’m not comfortable doing anything right now. Not until you tell me what the problem is.” “It’s not me who has a fucking problem!” Phantom blurted out, practically shouting it and they both froze. Phantom never raised their voice. Or, What Dew and Phantom thought was going to be their average hotel night whilst on tour, turns into a much needed conversation neither will soon forget.

Words: 1462

Rating: Mature (it does start off spicy)

Tags: Hurt/comfort, angst, self-harm (discussed not shown), starts spicy but leads elsewhere, safeword use, they/them Phantom, confrontations, Phantom wears a dress and also gets called a 'good girl', grief/mourning, Dew and Phantom need hugs, scars.

A/n: Both Dew and Phantom's anatomies are left ambiguous here because ultimately, it doesn't matter. It can be whatever you want! Mind the tags and enjoy!

Title taken from 'Are You Really Okay?' by Sleep Token. I would say it does sort of set the vibe for the story as well.

~~~

    Dew didn’t know what city they were in, and his brain was too fuzzy to remember how Papa had addressed the crowd just hours before. It was their day off tomorrow, so they were in a hotel tonight. The pack had been out clubbing, and after many intoxicating substances, they all split off to make the most of the space and privacy that a hotel afforded but a tour bus did not.

    Dew had been staring at Phantom all day. From the moment he noticed them wearing one of Rory’s crop tops to soundcheck, their lovely little curves as they warmed up and seeing that nimble body on stage. When they all showered and changed for their night out, Dew nearly went weak in the knees when he saw Phantom in a tight little black dress that started just under their armpits and ended just below their butt.

    So, Dew didn’t know what city he was in, and he didn’t care. All he cared about was that Phantom was finally under him in the hotel room.

    Both still fully clothed and hands flying all over each other’s bodies. Their lips were melding together in a filthy kiss that was more fang and tongue than anything, Phantom desperately gripping handfuls of Dew’s black dress shirt which he had purposefully left rather open the whole night, his tattoos and piercings on display for all to see and it had achieved its goal of driving Phantom mad.

    “Calm down, Bug, I’m not going anywhere.” Dew chuckled against Phantom’s lips.

    Phantom whined, “Please. Need you.” they said, untucking Dew’s shirt out of his waistband and trying to undo what few buttons he did actually fasten.

    “I’ve got you, baby. Gonna take good care of you, yeah?” Dew said, moving to kiss down Phantom’s neck and purposefully focusing on a spot in the junction of their neck and shoulder, intent on leaving a mark there.

    When Phantom had finished with the final button, Dew helped get the shirt off his shoulders and thrown in a heap on the floor. He pulled back a moment to start working on his belt, and Phantom’s legs wrapped tight around his waist.

    “No, don’t leave me.”

    Dew saw a certain desperation in Phantom’s eyes that he usually only saw when they had been going for a while or doing more intense scenes, and this was neither.

Read below the cut or on ao3

    “Phantom.” Dew threw his belt to the floor and cupped one side of their jaw in his calloused palm, “Are you okay? What’s your colour, Bat?”

    “Green, so fucking green. Please, need you.” Phantom said immediately.

    “You’ll tell me if that changes, yeah?” Dew asked, face fully serious, no amount of anything would ever stop Dew from making sure they were comfortable.

    “Yes, now please-“ Phantom cut themself off by launching their mouth back against Dew’s causing him to chuckle low in his throat.

    Dew rolled up what little of Phantom’s dress covered of their lower half, providing a more direct point of contact for the two. Phantom started panting and squirming against Dew, making his own interest pique. Phantom was also letting delicious little moans and whimpers fall out and Dew swallowed as many as he could. He put a hand on each side of Phantom’s torso and bracketed them in. Phantom’s hands went to each of Dew’s forearms and they kept letting little whines fall out as their claws skirted across the uneven skin.

    “So fucking gorgeous. All for me.” Dew said.

    “Yours, all yours.” Phantom affirmed, their feet kicking at Dew’s waistband to get it to budge.

    “Be patient, Bat. I’ve waited all day for this, we don’t want it to be over too quick do we?”

    “Fuck, please! Need you. Don’t ever want to go a second without you, I can’t. Please!” Phantom said, tears starting to bead on their lashes.

    Dew’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight, knowing something was wrong, but Phantom’s deft fingers were already fussing with Dew’s button and zipper, pushing right against where he’d been burning for them all day.

    “Bug-“

    “Shut up, please. Want- need you. Dewy, please.” Phantom was practically sobbing. And Dew sobered immediately, anxiety churning deep in his stomach and smothering the flames that had been steadily growing all day.

    “No. Bug, no. I’m calling red.”

    Dew backed away enough so his core was out of Phantom’s reach.

    “No! Dew, please. I need you so bad.” They were sobbing now.

    “Not when you’re like this.” Dew said, grabbing Phantom’s hands and bringing them to sit up on the edge of the bed, fixing the short dress back down and cover up what little it could. He knelt down on the floor before them, “Something’s up with you, what is it?”

    “Nothing, I promise!” Well that wasn’t convincing at all, “I’m just horny, I just need you, please! Wanna be good for you, wanna be your good girl.”

    They tried to lean forwards for another kiss, sliding forward off the bed to straddle Dew.

    “No, Phantom. I called red.” Dew said while wriggling out from under Phantom.

    The hurt in Phantom’s eyes carved a hole in Dew’s chest.

    “You’re always so good for me, my perfect girl.” He cupped their tear and snot striped face in his hands, “But I’m not comfortable doing anything right now. Not until you tell me what the problem is.”

    “It’s not me who has a fucking problem!” Phantom blurted out, practically shouting it and they both froze. Phantom never raised their voice.

    “Wh- what do you mean?” Dew asked, his hands dropping from their face.

    Phantom took a deep breath, steadying their voice against their tears, “We’ve all noticed. It feels like we’re watching you wither away. I can’t lose you.” They rambled.

    Dew’s mind immediately understood. He wasn’t exactly making any effort to hide it, but he was hoping no one would notice.

    “I can’t help it.” Dew said, backing away in shame as his arms wrapped around his own torso.

    “So let us help. Don’t leave us, please.” Phantom begged, crawling over to be face to face with Dew and taking his hand, holding it tight to their chest and putting all his fresh little scars on full display.

    “I’m sorry, it’s the only thing that feels right. It’s the only pain I can control.”

    Dew’s soul had been in a torrent of hurt since Aether was forced back to Hell, and it had taken a long time for Dew to even accept simply living in the same space as Phantom. But he had gotten over it and gotten better. Or so he thought. It was about a month into the tour when Dew got off stage and instinctively searched for Aether. And in a terribly glorious moment where he completely forgot, he panicked and spiralled thinking that something had happened to Aether, terrified that he couldn’t see his mate. Of course something had happened, it was just months prior.

    Since then, Dew had fallen back into his habit of self-harming. He didn’t really know what the goal was, if he wanted to live on, if he just wanted some pain to remind him he was alive. It was just the only thing he could think of doing to fill the void that Aether had left.

    “You can’t leave us. You can’t leave me.” Phantom said, “I finally have you, you’re in my very soul. I won’t loose you.”

    Dew choked on his tongue as he felt the unbridled emotions filling the shitty little hotel room in who-fucking-knows-where.

    “Please, Dew.” Phantom begged, “Stop hurting yourself. It’s hurting all of us too.”

    And if that didn’t cut deeper then any blade Dew had put to his skin.

    “Bat, I-“

    “We all love you.” Phantom said, before putting a gentle kiss to one of Dew’s new scars, “We’re all here for you.” Another kiss, “Just let us help you.” Another kiss.

    Phantom went along Dew’s arms and torso and kissed each and every mark, laving it with the love Dew hadn’t shown himself for a while.

    “I’m sorry, Bat. I’m so sorry.” Dew said, pulling Phantom in for a bone crushing hug that they returned. It felt as though they thought he would fade away at any moment, and that just made Dew hold on tighter.

    “I’ll try, I promise. I’m sorry.” Dew repeated like a mantra.

    “We all love you so much, Dewy. I love you so much.” Phantom cried, kissing whatever they could reach without loosening their hold, “Please never forget that.”

    “I’ll try, I promise I’ll try.” Dew swore.

    And he meant it. With all his heart, with all the love he had for his pack, current and lost, he meant it. He could only hope he wouldn’t be too weak to let everyone down.

[killallxys]

I feel saying men are inherently biologically horrible is kind of a cop out. They are not nor do they want to change. There is no biological push because they've got big enough brains to handle to not do it. Somehow certain men are able to hide their nature or be weaker and more timid yet hold those values. It's not biological it's simply put socialization. That's not to say we should start pulling out the red carpet and start "oh but he's a victim too". Bullshit. He's no victim. I can understand women who are traditional pushing this but no it's not the same.

Men actively search and destroy other men. They love heiarchies.

Women who do this are just infected by it. Same for ego, fetish, and etc.

Men are not victims to their nature. Saying that affirms the whole well he's a man how do you expect for him to react when you're dressed up like that.

In fact that makes them worse. They actively know and are not slaved chained to their instincts. Testerone usage is just for mating and fighting. That is it so when a male is out of place in nature and beats a female, it is because that male is a failure in those areas.

Males yes have this surge of hormones but are somehow chained yet not chained enough to be able to get creative with it.

Either way even if it was biological, you can always condition them. I'm not saying therapy I mean literal conditioning. If a wolf can become a chihuahua then a man can become decent.

the patriarchy is and by men.

The patriarchy isn't somehow natural aspect. It is engineered otherwise there wouldn't have been a gap in history of women living in matriarchy.

Anyways I feel when males are stated to be inherently horrible, it just washes out everything. If men are to be like this then why should we have any other attitude other than indifference? He's a man it's in his nature. No it's not he's been raised in a misogynistic society and loves it, doesn't even know he loves it. He is no victim nonetheless.

Men are not helpless testerone rage monsters. No they are willful ones.

Men are not inherently bad

However no man...no naturally made man is good

Theyre all disgusting not a single one has done something in recognition of the female sex as human...no...bare minimum.

Somehow they are able to feel bad about banging a pot or pan on accident yet not for women

No man in the past was good

No man right now is good

"OH well if you say that why not date one now"

No man exists right now with bare minimum capabilities and beyond.

No man exists in this world our world like this.

No man.

I would enjoy a relationship with a adult human male in our world but unfortunately not one capable exists.

4B global ＼(^^)／ I hope for extinction unless something changes at the last minute. By that I mean men stop with everything.

However not all men will change...men right now none will change. If one does, why should we clap.

Also many will need to be lost in genocide which is good. Men will not stay sat they will eventually start fighting back with full force and so will be killed. Too many alive. Bombs away

Letter bomb+

Anti war because of men

But not for women

It was not women who started ww2, committed genocides and wars in south Sudan, or cut off women's breasts.

It was men

I agree. These smeglets say "biology" and play victim. Although I understand that women who say it don't want to deal with men anymore. And even if it was biology, subjugating women is wrong and they should be killed. Just how it is natural for virus to infect and kill but we didn't put hands on chin and said "it's life" but killed the virus.

Its kinda stupid to waste energy chaging them. They enjoy the power dynamic. They won't care bout us.

We aren't on 4B because we need to teach those men a lesson. We are on it because men are a lost cause. They dont want to change (even when they can) and actively hurt women.

The best thing possibel as of now is stop birthing males. Either a daughter or an abortion. Also men are going extinct soon. Or if you wanna speed it up, let's start killing moid's. Because the end goal of feminism is to liberate women and make oppression a thing of the past, does t matter if that means men must die.

[turtleblogatlast]

Mikey and Leo episode centered around Mikey wanting to push Leo and Draxum together since Leo’s the most reluctant to give Draxum any grace (for good reason!) But, thinking on the spot, Leo says he’s gotta go do something for Hueso and “just can’t hang out right now 😔” (yes, he says the emoji out loud.)

Mikey calls his bluff and now the three of them (Mikey having grabbed a weary Draxum along) go to Hueso’s to find that yes, he actually does have a job for him. Said job asks for Leo to go with Hueso to deliver multiple pizzas to this giant yokai quite a distance away, and Hueso figured it would probably go better with Leo’s help (emphasis on probably.)

Well, Mikey decides that this would be a great bonding opportunity for them and basically invites he and Draxum along. Unfortunately for Leo, Hueso doesn’t care enough to wave away more help, though he does side-eye the wanted criminal Baron Draxum coming with them. But who is he to judge? (This choice has consequences.)

The journey goes about as terribly as you’d expect, but at least the pizzas get delivered on time.

[wayward-wren]

I'm hoping episode 3 let's Ruby see the dark side of the Doctor. I feel that adds a very important dynamic to a Doctor-companion relationship, when they see how dark he can be and still choose to travel with him early on.

Rose watching Nine drag Cassandra back to die. Eleven yelling at Amy "Nobody human has anything to say to me today!" Donna begging Ten to stop drowning the spider babies, and then again to go back and save someone in Pompeii.

Fifteen has been FUN and I know he can do emotional range, I've seen his fear and his tears already. But I want to see him dark, and I want to see Ruby respond to that. I think it would add a LOT of depth to their relationship and is something missing.

Plus showcasing the Doctor's flaws (selfishness) will make him a much more interesting character. I want to see some conflict between the Doctor and Ruby.