#I'm not talking about preferring one over the other I'm talking about debating who is BETTER as if that isn't subjective???

[svnflowermoon]

i'm so sick of people putting successful female artists against each other as if they can't both be talented at the same time, some of y'all jump at literally any chance to bring one woman down with the disguise of bringing another up and it pisses me off

[moineauz]

જ⁀ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 , various !

synopsis: his voice lines about you as his beloved partner

including: veritas, jing yuan, blade

side comments: dw i promise i'm working on the house of musica requests... i just wanted to do this for fun! also this is the first time I've written for jing yuan which is kinda funny. i liked writing for blade again. originally i had welt and aventurine in the mix but i wanted to post this hahaha.

extra: gn reader, angsty and fluffy moments, mentions of marriage, aventurine jumpscare later favourites: blade word count: roughly 2,085+

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎

WHO ARE THEY? I "So you're asking about my significant other? Are you shocked that I have a significant other? At the very least consider your question."

FIRST MEETINGS? "I met Professor ( Name ) when they barged into my lecture, they said they were 'lost'. Since then we had several heated debates academically. Have I lost in these debates? Several times yes, consequently making debating with them all the more... interesting. Especially considering that Professor ( Name ) has a well-rounded vault of knowledge in most subjects of academic and social relevance. Finally, a conversation worth my time.

GREETINGS? "Professor ( Name ) considers a good greeting the highest attribute. A curt smile and a cup of coffee suffice, thankfully they know when to remain silent. However, there are instances when they will talk relentlessly. Initially, I used my headpiece around them. Nevertheless, their conversations do occasionally convey subtle insightfulness and definite meaning. Gradually I have come to share some liking towards their rather pleasant 'small talk'."

PARTINGS? "A small kiss on the cheek: be it on my skin or the headpiece, that is all. However, I... have always preferred it on the skin."

ABOUT US: ART "Outside of ( Name's ) academic career, they share a peculiar fondness for art. Be it painting or sculptures they could very well get lost in a museum. When they discovered my fondness for sculptures and anatomy, they were... oddly quiet; tracing their hands over my sculptures- or my face to be exact. ( Name's ) admiration is always shown in silence, one of the greatest forms of praise.

ABOUT US: TRUE APPEARANCES "I have questioned how ( Name ) has perceived our relationship. Considering that we are both colleagues, it can lead to speculation amongst other *sighs* inappropriate comments. Hence, I prefer to keep our relationship known only to those who need to. I believe them to be devout and... undoubtedly caring. I hope my attitude towards them conveys a similar message.

CHAT: WORK "Although we teach different subjects, we occasionally mark or review the work of our students. You may call it a 'second opinion'. Thus, their opinion is one that I trust."

CHAT: SERVICE "( Name's ) actions can initially appear simple-minded. However, underneath simplicity, lies thoughtfulness beyond comparison in both work... and at our residence.

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Film is not an art I deliberately take part in or seek out for leisure. However, ( Name ) was quite adamant and passionate about film. Thus, we've watched a myriad amount of films and TV shows together, both acclaimed and disdained. I have my own varying opinions. I must admit, after a long bath, a film in bed is quite soothing. Considering that ( Name ) similarly enjoys the pleasure of a bath, our nighttime routine is undoubtedly satisfying."

ARGUMENTS: "One must always think before they speak for there is a price to pay. ( Name's ) silence is decisive, deliberate and painful; burning right through your chest. Debates are loud, quarrels are bitterly silent."

SOMETHING TO SHARE: "Solitude is the greatest gift to civilization and self: introspection enlarges the expanse of the mind. However, the pursuit of knowledge is not only found in discovery and text. It is through experience alone. I have found much knowledge in solitude and an equal amount through genuine companionship. Hence, I share my deepest revere. "

WHO ARE THEY? II "My lover. That is who they are to me and all you need to know."

EXTRA: AVENTURINE'S OPINION "I met Ratio's lover when I visited for business matters. But, all that went out of the door! I saw a lovely individual by his desk and thought, 'Who is this?' Ratio never, and I mean never, allows anyone to screw his desk up. Yet, here they were, seated at the edge of his desk toying with his stupid chalk greeting me with a bright smile. We immediately hit off. I suppose Ratio does have some luck in him, but then again, ( Name ) was the one who first asked him out. Less to do with luck, and more to do with destiny. In my opinion, destiny is not something I fully believe in, however, when I watch Ratio and ( Name ), it's difficult to imagine a universe where they aren't together."

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍

WHO ARE THEY? I "You are looking for Commander ( Name )? Sadly they're on a business trip, however, I'd be happy to answer in their place."

FIRST MEETINGS? "( Name ) is an interesting soul. I've heard of their praised skills in combat and decisive thinking. Many assume I met them on the battlefield. Yet, I met them over a coincidental cup of tea."

GREETINGS? “I find it amusing how our everyday greetings have evolved. At first it was a salute. However, I find that a kiss on the cheek is a much more efficient way of greeting and brightening up the mundane tasks *sighs* of work.”

PARTINGS? “Why bid farewell when one hasn’t said hello? Partings have always been bitter. Yet, I find comfort in knowing that all things lead back from whence they came.”

ABOUT US: AGE “Time for long life species is fickle and plainly slow. Despite that, ( Name ) has constantly made time— less daunting and more fun. ( Name’s ) life span… is a touch shorter than that of myself. Hence, they have brought forth a new value in every passing year to which I cherish. This year I plan on doing something special for their birthday— though, don’t tell them that.”

ABOUT US: SILENCE "As much as ( Name ) glows in social settings, they equally enjoy stillness, if not more. There never is any obligation to fill the void when we're together. It is as natural of an act as breathing.

CHAT: PRODUCTIVITY "( Name ) likes to be on task. I, however, don't always find leisure in such activities. ( Name ) quote, 'holds me accountable'. Of course, there are moments in which I can distract them."

CHAT: FELINES "They are quite fond of Mimi. Unfortunately, Mimi is rather... aggressive when around ( Name ) and has been for a considerable amount of time. One time ( Name ) was attempting to bargain with Mimi for her favour. *Chuckles* What a sight.

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Master Diviner Fu Xuan would frown upon it... but I suppose napping on the Seat of Divine Foresight is considered a 'pastime' when done regularly enough."

ARGUMENTS: "I do not attempt to quell the frustrations of my dearest. It is not often they disclose them to me and it does pain me to be the cause of their anger. Nevertheless, if it means the two of us will grow closer, then I will gladly offer myself to the brute force of my dearest. Of course, the swelling of regret still stains the heart."

SOMETHING TO SHARE: I've lived one life yet many all at once. Companions scattered amongst the universe and enemies whose names I've gradually forgotten. Yet, underneath the breath of my dearest, I'm simply a man in his spouse's embrace. Nothing else matters."

WHO ARE THEY? II "My most loving spouse."

EXTRA: FU XUAN'S OPINION "When Commander ( Name ) came into the Seat of Divine Foresight to help the General... he grew all the more 'lazy'. A part of me feels sympathetic towards Commander ( Name ), imagine having your own spouse bully you into doing your work? Alas, it's not my business to speak about their marital life. Besides, the two go hand in hand, like a puzzle piece clicking together. Both can do well without, but when joined together, they are a force to be reckoned with."

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄

WHO ARE THEY? I "Their weapon may be thin, but it pierces holes even in the most... stubborn of enemies."

FIRST MEETINGS? "Elio's script is always followed. However, ( Name ) is a detail I did not anticipate or was foretold. My body met the tip of their spear before I saw their face."

GREETINGS? "Over time ( Name ) has grown close to the Stellaron Hunters- especially Kafka. Their presence is imminent despite not being a Stellaron Hunter themselves. ( Name ) smiles whenever we meet, it has always been more than enough."

PARTINGS? "My promised end will come, yet an absurd inkling of regret remains."

ABOUT US: THE BLADE "( Name ) believes the blade to be a form of art. They had said, 'The blade dances in air with undisturbed poise and precision, a kind of mercy not known to themselves.' I asked them why they chose a spear then. They replied, 'Because I could never dare replicate it's beauty.'"

ABOUT US: WOUNDS "( Name ) never wanted to be a traveller, rather, they opted to string fabrics together with a needle and thread. Perhaps that is where their skills come from."

CHAT: MIDNIGHT "The mara is like a ghost. Yet, ( Name ) is a fool. They embrace the ghost I can't seem to remember other than its bottomless spite and fear."

CHAT: SCARS "Their hands never 'keep to themselves'. ( Name ) prefers to trace their hands over surfaces and make shapes. They tend to draw stars... so many stars."

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "When there are no missions, we sleep in silence. Under the guise of sleep and their warmth, immortality does not follow me."

ARGUMENTS: "When all is said and done, silence remains."

SOMTHING TO SHARE: "If there is life after death, then I wish to meet them in the same manner, again and again with that smile and spear."

WHO ARE THEY II? "The person who taught me how to breathe and pressed their lips against my skin."

EXTRA: KAFKA'S OPINION "Blade will never admit it. But, ( Name ) cares for Blade and Blade does too. The pair will never put a name to the push and pull between them. I caught Bladie once; staring out into the open universe searching for something with a spark of life that doesn't belong to a dead body. I wonder if ( Name ) put that there."

masterlist.

[storywriter007]

can you do a “fighting for the first time” preference/headcannons with the HoO boys ? i love ur work!!

Fighting for the First Time - HoO Boys x Fem!Reader

author's note: thank you for the request!! and i'm so glad you like my work, this literally made my day. this is what i feel like first fights (non-quest related) would go but add your ideas in the comments!!

genre: angst ending in fluff

word count: 1.5k but it's all in bullet points

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

percy jackson

the first time you guys seriously fight, it goes one of two ways

either a.) he doesn't care about who's right and just wants things to go back to normal or b.) he thinks he's right

option a is the preferred option

he tries to talk to you, finding you whenever and wherever

he refuses to leave until the problem is sorted out

and he is upset the entire duration of the fight

he apologizes for anything

"i'm sorry if i did anything at all to hurt you" kind of apology

option a fights would be over things like unintentionally hurting each-other

like accidentally saying something mean or sparring too roughly with each-other

or it would be over his reckless behavior

in which he understands why it worries you

this first fight wouldn't last long

maybe a day before you guys are all good again

option b is the worst

when he's convinced he's right, he tunes you out

not intentionally, it's just that he's too caught up in what he's feeling to properly listen to you

you guys go back and forth in circles

practically yelling at each-other

his eyes get dark and he becomes angry quickly

refuses to listen to you until things reach a tipping point

either you or him storm out and leave the other one alone for a few days and talk it out once they've cooled down

or one of you starts crying, and the anger is overshadowed by guilt and heartbreak bc of their ignorance

this fight would probably be over his loved ones

if you had pointed out a flaw about them or something they did which you didn't appreciate

or maybe just a passing comment you unintentionally made

i mean the loyalty on that man is crazy

lots of hurt feelings during this fight

and it would last a while - the most being a week

however, both fights would have a mutual apology

where both of you apologize for the things you've said and done

and you guys agree to do better in the future

you probs end up falling asleep in cabin 3 that night

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jason grace

to get in a serious fight with him, it's gotta be something big

jason is calm and level-headed

he takes a walk the first time things get heated and comes back to you with a clear mind

he talks to you calmly, treating the fight more like a debate

don't get it wrong though: internally he's freaking out

he's lost a lot, and he doesn't want to lose you

honestly your first serious fight with him would be over reckless behavior (on your end) or him being walked over

your first serious fight spawns from how deeply you two care for each-other

either he's mad you don't care about yourself and doesn't know how to tell you calmly bc you don't listen

or you're mad that he's ready to die for gods and kids who don't care about him in the least

you guys only fight about these things because light-hearted conversations don't send the message

jason, especially, stays stern during the fight

you wonder if he even cares tbh

but then you notice how he pauses and searches for words, how his lip twitches when you say something snappy, and the look in his eyes

he barely raises his voice, and only does it when you interrupt him constantly

the first fight would end within a day

it would end with revealing why you are reckless or why he is so selfless

it would be a calm, vulnerable conversation

would probs end in a make-out session bc he was so afraid he was gonna lose you

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leo valdez

i'm going to be so real rn: the fight starts because he's feeling inferior

he loves you sm and he considers himself lucky to have you

but bc of that - his feeling of inferiority would be on the back of his mind

he's not really jealous, but more-so afraid you're going to leave him at the drop of a hat like how everyone else has

so he gets upset if you're spending too much time around any other guy

the book series repeatedly talks about leo's insecurities and how he feels like he's not good enough and how he feels everything is his fault

insecurity runs deep and it would most definitely be a reason for a fight

you guys do raise your voices bc at first you're not understanding each-other

you think he's jealous and he thinks you don't want to be with him anymore

after you guys are done with your screaming match, leo would coop up wherever his machines are

he would stay there for a long time and think

he 100% is over analyzing every single thing you said to him

he's convinced you guys are going to break up and you're going to leave him

and he deserves it because it's his fault for starting the argument

even though he isn't jealous or thinks you're a cheater, he just let his insecurities get the best of him

and he feels like it's over for you two

he doubts himself; wondering if he should even try to talk to you or just let what he believes is the inevitable happen

so he doesn't even try to apologize

he is convinced it is all his fault

overworks himself in an attempt to distract himself from all of his terrible thoughts

you, on the other hand, have your time alone and want to talk to him

it's nighttime and he's nowhere to be found

you go to his little lab and voila, there he is

his eyes are red and sunken and his hands are shaky and dirty

you don't say anything, you just hug him

he breaks down and tells you why he was actually mad

he profusely apologizes and doesn't blame you if you want to break up

you explain to him that you are with him because you love him and that one little fight would never make you leave him

you reassure him that he is more than enough

this fight doesn't last more than a day or maybe two

the fight would end with a really intense kiss

and you would probably spend the rest of the night with him in his little work area

you'd watch movies, make jokes, laugh a lot, and company him while he manically works on something

that something is metal flowers as an apology for acting the way he did

it's his way of saying "we're stuck together and i love you :)"

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frank zhang

it's difficult to get into a serious fight with frank

but if you do, it would be over reckless behavior (on your end, c'mon y/n) or his own insecurity

your reckless behavior specifically with fire

frank and fire do not get along - it's well known

he literally can't stand you doing something dangerous in general

but with fire, it's even worse

he's convinced something terrible is going to happen and he lashes out at you bc of his previous experiences with fire

this fight would be short-lived though, bc you would understand why he feels that way

you'd apologize to him and he would apologize for lashing out

you'd agree to stop joking around with fire, but you'd convince him to start getting over his fear

this first fight actually ends up more helpful in the long run as frank slowly overcomes his fear of fire with you by his side

however, if it's his own insecurities, this would go another way

as mentioned, frank has been bullied

and he repeatedly feels like an outcast because he doesn't have dyslexia/adhd, he's an archer but he's a mars kid, and his life depends on a piece of firewood

your fight would start bc he felt left out with you

but it's just him overthinking

(if you use a sword) it's you sparring with jason or percy for practice

and it kinda makes him feel like "i want to help my gf but she needs someone who's actually good"

if you hang out with another mars kid for too long

makes him think "what i should be"

if you made a jab at him that he took a little too seriously

frank is a gentle giant, so he wouldn't yell in the least

you guys would argue and he'd be lost for words, kind of stuttering and repeating himself a lot

he'd just kinda walk off during an argument

this would make you mad bc he started the thing and doesn't want to listen to you

but really, he just wants to talk to you when it's not so heated

you'd go hide in your cabin/room

frank would be walking around and comes to the realization that walking out on your argument was a douchebag move

he shapeshifts into like a rat or a bug or something to go see you in your cabin and make sure you're not hurt

you'd see some random animal in your cabin and you get freaked out

he turn back into himself and apologizes for being rash

he'd be honest and tell you that he was just overthinking things and that he just got in his own head

you accept his apology and tell him to communicate better

to tell you if he feels left out or if he doesn't think something is funny, and to tell you that's he's leaving the argument bc he wants to think abt it

this fight is over by sundown

and you spend the rest of the evening practicing archery with him

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 16/∞

LUO BINGHE HAS A "STEREOTYPICALLY MASCULINE" APPEARANCE

Rating: FANON - CONFLICTING

In fanworks, Luo Binghe is often portrayed as particularly muscular and buff, broad-shouldered, often with tanned skin and sharply-defined features-- all traits that are considered to be stereotypically masculine in the west.

All of this directly contradicts his canonical description.

Necessary disclaimer: I'm not talking against depicting Luo Binghe with a naturally darker skin tone. While that still contradicts the canonical description, I can understand going against colorism (something very rampant in east asian beauty standards!) in fanworks. This sort of discussion is particularly toward those who portray him as fair-skinned on Qing Jing Peak, darker skinned after the abyss, hence "tanned." While this sort of thing might have issues of its own, that's also not the topic of this post, and as a light-skinned Asian person, I don't feel particularly qualified to talk about it.

In truth, deep down, Bing-ge’s fair and clean pretty-boy type didn’t really suit the tastes of “Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky.... The art of growing stallions was grounded in science, and the research was clear: women preferred men who looked cultured, pretty, and even a bit soft and feminine. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

The buff and bulky Luo Binghe often seen in fanworks is not what I would consider to be cultured, pretty, soft, and feminine.

Luo Binghe is described this way just before the conference:

A seventeen-year-old youth, slim and tall and graceful, dressed in white robes, lips turned upward in the hint of a smile, gazed at him with a pair of shining eyes. (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

And again after his return:

The other party was a little taller than [Shen Qingqiu], slender and willowy, dressed in clothes as black as ink that exposed only a fair neck.  (7 Seas, Ch. 7)

And a description of his hands later on:

That hand was slender and unadorned. It didn’t look like the hand of a young lord of the demon race who had already taken countless lives, but rather one whose master had been born to pluck strings, his hand to burn incense and bathe in snow. (7 Seas, Ch. 14)

Consistantly, Luo Binghe is depicted this way-- slender and refined, with fair skin and a softness to his appearance that contradicts his actions.

Furthermore, Luo Binghe is also described as looking very similar to his mother:

Luo Binghe was beautiful, and he looked quite like his birth mother. (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

and

Yue Qingyuan’s knuckles slowly brushed along Xuan Su’s hilt. “I was able to meet Senior Su Xiyan once at an Immortal Alliance Conference, many years ago. Luo Binghe’s appearance is seven-tenths identical to his mother’s.  (7 Seas, Ch. 18)

As for Su Xiyan's appearance, not much is directly stated-- it can be inferred that she likewise looked quite similar to Luo Binghe, but the only description of her physical appearance that we have is found here:

Even if she wasn’t burly and heavyset, she should at least look like a martial arts master with fierce and ferocious eyes. For all that, when he finally met the culprit behind Tianlang-Jun’s bout of philosophical soul-searching, which had tormented Zhuzhi-Lang for many days, he realized that the culprit in question was not quite like what he’d envisioned... ... Just as these two tourists were standing penniless in the street, a tall woman dressed in black strolled by, sword on her back. (7 Seas, Ch. 25)

The only positive descriptor here is that she is tall, but it can also be implied that she does not have the appearance of a martial arts master, and did not look as fierce and ferocious as Zhuzhi-lang expected, especially in terms of her eyes. However, she is described as a cold person-- whether or not that carried over into her appearance, though, is up for debate.

Su Xiyan's eyes are another matter for discussion--

In appearance, Luo Binghe resembled his mother Su Xiyan, but you could more or less see the shadow of his father in him. For example, in the eyes. Tianlang-Jun’s eyes were deep-set, his brow strong and heroic, the irises dark like fathomless water. In this, he and Luo Binghe were very much alike. Luo Binghe had a pretty boy appearance in the first place, but if his eyes had resembled his mother’s too, his face would have been excessively feminine and the effect would be lost. (7 Seas, Ch. 15)

Here, specifically, Luo Binghe is noted as having his father's strong brow and deep-set eyes, as opposed to his mothers, which based on this passage were most likely to be round, soft, and "feminine"-looking. It's also interesting to see that if not for having his father's eyes, Luo Binghe's features would be "excessively feminine," therefore implying that the softer look applies to all parts of his face except for his eyes and brows.

(thanks to @furbygoblinxiv , @bijoumikhawal for bringing up this point)

So, Luo Binghe is a lithe and petite pretty-boy. Nonetheless, he is still notably muscular. Specifically with a surprising amount of lean muscle-- something that Shen Qingqiu actually remarks on:

Luo Binghe was on top, and Shen Qingqiu was on the bottom, so he was smushed under a considerable weight and almost unable to draw another breath. What had this child been eating?! He looked quite slim, so how was he this heavy?! ... A person’s abdomen is supposed to be the softest spot on their body, but Luo Binghe’s was uncomfortably hard against Shen Qingqiu’s stomach. The farther down he pulled him, the more he was sure that Luo Binghe had an eight-pack. Was that a rock slab down there? (7 Seas, Ch. 16)

(thanks to @verycharismaticdragon for bringing up this point)

As for where the fan depiction of buff, tanned, "hyper-masculine" Luo Binghe may have originated?

I'm not certain where the first such depiction came from, but as for the logic behind it, such phenomena could be explained as thinking of Luo Binghe, the stallion protagonist, as having an "ideal masculine" appearance.

For western audiences and beauty standards, this would certainly be that same sort of muscular, tall, with tanned skin and defined features. Naturally, when first thinking of what a "stereotype of an ideal man" would look like, these traits would come to mind to a western audience.

It is a bit different in eastern standards. While muscular appearances can still be favored, lean muscle is vastly, vastly preferred over bulky muscle, and fair skin, which represents elegance and status (as those with fair skin tones are perceived as those who are wealthy, and do not need to work outdoors) is preferred over tanned skin. This is, of course, a generalization-- but as a representation of ideal masculinity, Luo Binghe's appearance would also be a generalization.

Particularly, Luo Binghe's figure and appearance is described not as those favored by men for themselves, but as those favored aesthetically by women. Therefore, that gentle, refined appearance is a must.

While western vs eastern beauty standards may play a role in this, it is also possible that western vs eastern character design standards may also be coming into play. While in eastern character design, things such as color and style of clothing and hair play a very large role in creating visual contrast, in terms of western designs, body shape and style, along with hair shape and style, seem to be far more important, with the idea that a character should be recognizable by silhouette alone. This may lead to western-trained artists, and also those who grew up watching primarily western cartoons, unconsciously applying those same standards to their own design-- such as making Luo Binghe broader-shouldered and with rounder shapes, the "heroic" type character design, in contrast to sharper, narrower shapes for Shen Qingqiu, the "villain" type character design.

(thanks to @gaywarcriminals , @mu-qingfang-stan-account , @temporoom for bringing up this explanation)

One additional possible reason would be the potential for heteronormative/"het-coding" standards being applied to a gay relationship, where the gong is being given more "traditionally masculine" features in order to align with gender roles. This is something that is fairly common in BL/MLM shipping and designs in general, so it wouldn't be unreasonable to think that it might apply in some fashion to Luo Binghe's fan-design as well (Note, this does not apply to actual fem/masc mlm pairs, because those do exist and it isn't always about heteronormativity. This is specifically referring to taking characters with roughly similar build like SQQ and LBH and making their designs distinctly more masc/fem based on who tops and who bottoms).

(thanks to @mysteryteacup and @gurggggleburgle for bringing this up)

As for the true source of these design elements, it probably cannot be narrowed down to just one-- rather, it would be an amalgamation of bits and pieces of all of the above, as well as the popularity and spread of certain designs throughout the fandom and artists taking inspiration from one another.

So often i've seen that Luo Binghe's bulk and muscles are shown as key traits of his physical appearance, despite the fact that this directly contradicts his actual depiction in the novel. Thus, it is inaccurate to depict him this way.

Luo Binghe's canonical body type and build is tall, slender, and willowy with lean musculature, and his features are soft and a bit effeminate. The best example I could give for reference would be to base his body type off of a pretty-boy type idol.

Of course, fanartists are perfectly free to continue drawing him however they please, but it should not be assumed that a Luo Binghe with bulky musculature, tanned skin, and sharp features is a canon-compliant depiction.

Luo Binghe is a pretty-boy.

[surielstea]

Your Needs, My Needs

Request made by @loving-and-dreaming

Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary: With the return of Cassian’s ex, Reader makes the decision to distance herself from him— but hasn’t expected him to notice.

Warnings: A teensy bit of angst, mostly fluff!

A. Note: Sorry this is so short, I just began writing for Kinktober and started pouring all my focus into that and totally forgot about my reqs, hope this is enjoyable nonetheless :)

1.3k words

The past week has been hell.

Cassian and I haven't touched or had a meaningful conversation in seven days. All due to the return of his ex.

Alora was back from her three-year-long expedition of traveling courts and making connections. Cassian and her called it off before she left, it seemed mutual, and neither of them was too broken up about it so when me and Cassian got much closer over those three years it hadn't felt wrong.

But now she was back, and I was determined to save myself from the heartbreak of being the other woman.

So I distanced myself, backed away, stopped my lingering stares and cuddling on the couches, and stopped the flirty teasing and banter altogether.

We sat in the training ring, panting and out of breath, drinking from our waters silently. We used to sit shoulder to shoulder— despite the heat emanating from our bodies, we preferred to be close, but now there was a noticeable gap between us and it cleaved my heart in two.

I glance over at the winged male to see him already gazing at me. I give him a polite smile, trying not to fumble with my water as I avert my stare and place the bottle down beside my feet.

"What are you doing?" He suddenly asks and my brows crease, glancing back over to him, the hurt expression on his rough yet handsome features.

"Trying to catch my breath?" I say through a slightly dramatized pant.

"That's not what I'm talking about. You've been avoiding me, what have I done?" He narrows his eyes on me and I huff, looking away, afraid he might be able to see right through me if I held eye contact.

"I haven't been avoiding you Cass, just, giving you space." I shrug, keeping my voice from wavering.

"One and the same, what did I do?" His blunt words struck me like a slap, a frown pulling at my lips.

"You didn't do anything." I shake my head, finally meeting his hazel eyes.

"Then why give me space?" It hurt more than I expected it to, to look into those eyes after so long, torture to be away from him for only just a week. I doubt I could even stomach being around him once he got back with Alora.

"Alora returned, Cass, I figured you'd want to pick up where you left off," I explain, remaining strong on my point.

"And what if I don't want that?" He stands, now looking down on me. I mirror his position, rising onto my feet yet he still remained looking down at his nose and I cursed his tall height.

"It's what you should want," I argue with narrowed brows.

"No, what I should want is what makes me happy." His voice brooked no room for argument as he took a step forward, and for a moment he looked like he was going to reach out towards me, then thought better of it. "And that's you." He confesses.

My heart stutters at his words, fingers twitching with the need to touch him. "Cass." I sigh, shaking my head.

"Don't 'Cass' me, sweetheart." He tilted his head down at me.

"She's better for you," I murmur, shrugging and fighting my need to wring my hands.

"You think I can't decide what's best for me?" He steps closer, a dangerous distance now between us.

"No,” I blurt, my brows bunching.” I'm just trying to make all of this easier." I huff, my bottom lip now protruding. I didn’t want to argue, I didn’t want to even be bothered to discuss it, I thought this was what he would want?

"Easier for who?"

His question was met with silence as I debated the question. I thought it’d be easier for him, I hadn’t realized he would notice my distance. I was only trying to save him from having that awkward conversation with me.

"I don't want her, I want you." He reaches out, his hands cupping my cheeks. I blink in surprise, a blush staining my cheeks. He wanted me?

"But, I thought—" I begin to say but he cuts me off.

"You thought wrong princess," He smiled arrogantly, but the line between his brows told me he was still distressed. "I didn't want to tell you, I thought you might realize on your own.” He said, then let out a soft chuckle as he added, "Figured the nicknames and cuddling was enough to give you a hint."

I avert my gaze, the burning on my cheeks starting to grow overwhelming. "Sorry," I utter, wrapping my arms around myself.

His hands slip from my cheeks to the nape of my neck, his thumbs tilting my jaw up, making me look at him. "Don't apologize just, please, no more distancing yourself from me,” He reasons and I frown.

"I was only trying to protect you, protect myself," I explain my stance on our argument still not satiated.

"I don't need protection, I need you." His hands tightened around the back of my neck but it didn’t hurt, it was a reassuring squeeze, a reminder. "I'm not going anywhere, alright?"

"Okay." I nod slowly, a soft smile spreading across my lips, one I haven’t given him in the past week.

He leaned closer and my breath hitched, eyes flicking down to his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, is that okay?” He asks and I nod fervently. A wicked smile spreads over his lips at my reaction but doesn’t leave me waiting for long before his lips crash down onto mine.

The kiss was soft, yet passionate. He conveyed every neglected emotion in that kiss, how much he desperately needed me in the seven days I didn’t look or touch him, how depraved he was. His lips were skilled, and his tongue even more so as it slipped into my mouth. I sighed softly, allowing him to explore every crook and crevice, studying and memorizing it as if for later reminiscence.

“I missed you,” He whispers into my mouth and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, my chest pressed into his.

"You're so clingy." I rolled my eyes, feigning annoyance. He smiled wildly at that, because despite the kiss, this was normal, the hugging and teasing, he hadn’t realized how much he cherished it until it disappeared.

"Gods, I missed you so much." He repeats, a cadence in his voice that sounded so genuine, making my frown return, my hand rubbing circles on the back of his shoulder slowing.

"I thought you'd go back to her, I was only trying to help," I say softly, his eyes soften as he quickly shakes his head and says,

"I was never hers, just didn't know it until you." He leans closer and pecks my lips softly. "I'm yours, I always have been." He reassured and my smile returned, I pushed up onto my toes, connecting our lips over and over again, kissing him until we were both sick of the taste of each other.

“And I’m yours,” I confess. “I’ve always known that, though,” I say bashfully and his grin widens, feral, genuine. My hand slithered to his jaw, my thumb now tracing over the outline of his sensuous lips. “I missed you too,” I confess, even if I was the one pulling away.

“I know, sweetheart, your sorrow-filled stares were proof.” He teased and I shuddered, looking away with a bright red blush. He chuckled and brought my face back to his with a nudge of his nose. “It was cute,” He reassured me, and even if I didn’t believe him, I allowed his lips to press against mine, again, and again, and again.

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[hisphoria]

high society, lhs

chapter 01, debut

synopsis: lee heeseung must find someone that will be willing to marry him just for the title. someone to marry him so that his grandmother can finally stop bothering him. while this isn't a hard thing for heeseung to do since almost every noble girl of the ton would be willing to marry him, he needs someone who has no interest in him. someone who will not bother him if he doesn't even speak to them as long as they aren't at some social event. and of course, he found that in you.

featuring: lee heeseung, sim jaeyun, park jongseong, park sunghoon, kim sunoo, nishimura riki, yang jungwon

genre: non-idol au, arranged marriage trope, enha as royals, victorian era?

content and warnings: cursing, drinking, sexual humor, some toxic mentality (considering the era i'm basing this on), and lotsss of angst

word count: 4193 words

taglist: @sumzysworld @tokkisann @sol3chu @yunjinhuhjennifer @capri-cuntz (still open! comment below if you want to be added)

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you hated it.

hated everything about all of these things that your parents were making you do. having to wear this and that, go to this event, and talk to these people it was just getting to be a bit much for you. nothing was entertaining or fun about having to approach old rich men at the balls and acting interested in their boring lives. you also knew just talking to them boosted their egos and they didn't need any of that.

"but mother i'm already engaged to nikolaos. the rest of the ton already knows this as well. i can't just be going around flirting with other men anymore." you pouted as your mother stood behind you tightening your corset and fitting your new dress for an upcoming ball that your estate was hosting.

your mother simply rolled her eyes as she tightened the corset even tighter making you suck in a breath. "i know you are but that does not mean you shouldn't try for better. maybe an even richer man will find interest in you." you debated on whether or not to continue arguing with her. you knew it was pointless but you still thought maybe if you said it enough, she would calm down a little. you were fully devoted to the idea of marrying nikolaus and to you nothing and no one else could change your mind about it. marrying him was something you had dreamt about since the age of ten.

your parents didn't understand this though. your father did a little more than your mother but he just goes along with everything your mother says so it was never up for debate. it wasn't that your mother wasn't letting you marry nikolaos, she was just holding on till the very last minute to see if you will change your mind and marry someone else. nikolaos isn't even unsuccessful, his family being of the high society just like yourself but to your mother is wasn't enough. she wanted someone for you that was in the highest society. preferably in the top ten richest and well known men that appear in the newspapers.

"i want you to be happy" your mother began as she started fluffing out your hair with some oils that she had put onto her hands, "i am not telling you to not marry for love but it is only a plus if you marry for love and money."

you sighed as you looked into the mirror in front of you. the fact that she made some sense to you was something you did not want to admit. obviously money and status was always a plus and you didn't agree with her because it was something you yourself sought out but you did understand why she pushed the idea so much. "right. i understand you mother" you said to her as you stood up from the chair and looked back at her, "but i am indeed happy being engaged to nikolaos. i have loved him for so long and he is a successful man. i will be fine with him."

your mother simply nodded, deciding not to push the subject any further for the day. she gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaving your bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

you leaned against the railing at the top of the foyer looking over the crowd of people down below. it was the day of the ball and you had waited about 40 minutes after everyone arrived to make your entrance. the later you arrived, the less time you would have to interact with the ton and that sounded perfect to you. brushing down your baby blue ball gown, you made your way over to the staircase. you took a deep breath before resting your hand on the railing and slowly making your way down.

don't close your eyes you thought to yourself as you made your way down. it was always so nerve racking. all eyes turning towards you and looking you up and down. hearing the whispers just made it all worse.

that's when you saw nikolaos standing by a tall round table that was surrounded by other noble men. his head immediately turned towards you with a smile and he made his way over to you to meet you at the bottom of the staircase. you felt your heart slightly jump at the action but you weren't sure if that was the nerves because everyone was watching or if it really just melted your heart seeing him.

nikolaos reached his hand out for you to grab before bowing slightly before you, "good evening y/n" he whispered out to you. you smiled at him as you took his hand and touched the floor with your feet. you grabbed onto his shoulder with one hand and leaned into his ear and whispered, "i was too afraid to come out here if you weren't here."

"your mother kept me occupied for awhile..." he sighed as he turned and looked over to see where your mother and father stood attending to the guests who walked through the door. "she probably thought you were here wandering around already and didn't want me to take you away from your socializing." you frowned at this, slightly bowing your head and shaking it.

"i'm so sorry nikolaos" you said as you looked up at him, "you know how she is." he nodded and smiled at you reassuringly, "i know i know. i'm not offended don't worry. maybe you should go and get to know more people?" he said as he directed his attention back over to the crowd. the highest nobles were all gathered at the front greeting my parents. your mother and fathers faces beaming at them, you could've sworn you saw dollar signs in their eyes.

that's when he appeared.

"is that... lee heeseung?" you breathed out as you peered over nikolaos' shoulder to see lee heeseung enter, approaching your parents with a polite smile and bow. he was a well known noble. the highest of all the nobles. he was probably at the very very top of the pyramid in the high society. you heard that his parents were practically nonexistent, leaving the entire estate and title to their one and only son. he only had his grandmother and staff living in the mansion with him. you had only seen him maybe two or three other times as he didn't appear at every social event so him showing up at your estate... it was shocking.

not only was heeseung a high noble but he was also definitely the most handsome noble. his silver hair was styled but you loved that he never slicked it back, it looked natural and some pieces of his hair fell perfectly over his beautiful face. silver couldn't be his natural hair color you had thought to yourself, his dark roots showing under the silver. he would probably look perfect in any hair color.

"you should probably go greet him, no? not saying hi to the duke when he attends your ball is surely a crime" nikolaos let out a small laugh. you cleared your throat and nodded, letting go of his hand and placing your hands in front of you. "i hate to admit that you are right. i must go" you bowed slightly before making your way over to where your parents stood at the entrance.

"oh! my dear daughter!" your mother exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically as you arrived beside them. heeseung stood in front of them with both of his hands behind his back. he wore a white button up shirt tucked into some black pants with a dark blue jacket over, the collar gold and decorated with different lines and swirls. he looked like a prince.

heeseung eyed you up and down before bowing before you, "good evening lady y/n. i was just thanking your parents for inviting me to such a well organized and beautifully decorated event here at your estate." he brought his head back up and looked at you with a straight face, not even a slight smile had appeared on his face yet his voice sounded like he meant the compliment.

you bowed back to him, "it is an honor to welcome you to my parents estate my grace. we very much hope that you will enjoy it." you smiled at him as you came back up, placing your hands before you as they had before. heeseung simply nodded at you, the two of you looking at each other in silence for a few seconds before your fathers voice interrupted.

"your grace, we have heard about your engagement to the lady cadence laselle. congratulations" your father said as he put a hand over his heart. heeseung breathed in at your fathers words. he looked to the side and then back to your father again, "it seems that is all everyone is talking about, no? a vow between two families many years ago does not just mean i will easily take her as my wife. although..." he said as he then shifted his eyes over to you, "i have heard your daughter is actually to be engaged to nikolaos."

your mother frowned a bit at hearing his words. you already knew she was disappointed that you weren't marrying someone with a higher title and hearing it from the duke just probably made it worse for her. if even the duke knows, there's no going back is there?

you shifted your feet slightly and cleared your throat, "that is right, your grace. i am fortunate enough to not be in a situation like yours."

oh god.

maybe you shouldn't have said that.

your mother and father looked over at you with wide eyes. silence filling the circle. heeseung looked at you, seeming unmoved but then he cleared his throat and looked away. he scoffed and shook his head, a small smirk appearing on his face.

you put a hand over your mouth, "your grace, i am so sorry i didn't mean-"

heeseung put this hand up and nodded at you. "don't worry about it. i do appreciate some honesty every now and then especially since no one says those things to my face and instead behind my back." you weren't expecting him to be so understanding. you had heard only good things about the duke other than the fact that he was a womanizer but he was still a duke and the fact that you spoke to him that way was pretty unbecoming. you didn't know this man at all to be saying something so casual to him, you weren't so sure why or how you said something like that so easily.

"we apologize for her" my mother started, "i know it's no excuse but she has been pretty stressed out with the engagement and everything." she smiled at the duke.

heeseung looked as if he was about to open his mouth when a couple approached your parents and whisked them away before anything else could be said about you, leaving you and heeseung alone in each others presence.

heeseung looked at you before he took a few steps forward, getting closer to you. you felt your breathing stop as he got so close, close enough to where his scent filled your nostrils and he smelled amazing.

he leaned into you, his lips coming close to your ear and he whispered, "i don't appreciate a lady like you having an opinion on my personal matters. i'd be careful if i were you and watch what i say next time... especially to me."

your eyes widened as he leaned back and smiled. he took a bow before walking away from you and disappearing into the crowd of people. your face flushed and you quickly looked around to see if anyone caught sight of the interaction between you and the duke but it seemed that no one was looking and that made you let out a sigh of relief. you looked back to see if nikolaos was where you had left him but he was nowhere to be found.

heeseung wandered out into the courtyard. bringing a cigarette up to his lips, he heard footsteps come up behind him. turning his head, he saw his most trusted advisor, jake sim approaching him.

"i was wondering where you had wandered off to." jake said with a raise of his eyebrow, taking stand beside him. heeseung pulled the cigarette out from his mouth, letting out a puff of smoke. he clicked his tongue as he looked over at jake, "i would've thought you'd be off somewhere chatting it up with a lady."

jake let out a groan and threw his head back slightly, "as much as i would love to be doing that right now, i saw that little situation you had with lady y/n and when i saw that you took off, i thought it be best to come and find you. you disappeared pretty fast though, it took me a while."

"you saw that?" heeseung asked as he reached his cigarette out to jake to offer it to him. jake looked down at it and took it from heeseung, bringing it up to his lips. "i did, yes. i'm always keeping an eye out. although, it seems that even lady y/n was shocked at what had come out of her mouth" jake said with a laugh, "i've been hearing many things about her actually. she's the talk of the ton currently not falling far behind you."

heeseung rolled his eyes, "maybe they should be talking about her instead of me. she's the one who is actually getting married... not me."

"speaking of" jake said as he looked off to the side, drawing out a puff of smoke. "it's interesting really, her engagement to that man. they've known each other since they were children but lady y/n doesn't really seem to be the type to be able to marry a man like that."

heeseung scoffed, "what would you know? have you ever spoken to her?" a spike of curiosity rising in heeseung. he wasn't usually interested in the marriages and engagements going on in society but he himself was having a dilemma of being pushed to get married and even if he didn't want to, he needed to know what options were available to him or not.

"i hear around." jake says with a slight smile on his face, "i pay a lot of attention to gossip. i am your advisor, i need to know what's going on." he crossed his arms over his chest as he looked up at the night sky, "i've heard lady y/n is a pretty independent woman. it seems to get her into trouble a lot, an independent lady like her is not something that most men are looking for. her fiance was one of few willing to put up with that. she's been very open about not wanting to just idly stand by like a trophy for her husband."

heeseung raised an eyebrow at hearing this information, "like?"

jake smirked, "oh so you are curious?" heeseung rolled his eyes at jake and nudged his arm. "she tries her best to be helpful around her estate. she's always helping her father with things. she doesn't like just helping her mother plan out the balls, she's even gone on work trips with her father. she likes to be involved." jake continued to elaborate.

"i see..." heeseung hummed. he threw his cigarette to the ground and put it out with his foot. "does she seem like a romantic to you? do you think she seems like the type of woman to be in her husbands business?"

"what?" jake asked he shifted his body to heeseung so he was completely facing him now, "is she your type? you know she's engaged. you can't exactly just swoop up in there and propose to her-" heeseung put his finger up to jake's face to shush him, "i just need to see what the deal is. if she isn't in love, i've got a chance to offer her what nikolaos will not offer her in their marriage. she seems to be the only woman who would leave me be in a marriage."

"you dog" jake snarled at heeseung, "you just want someone who could care less about you then?"

heeseung smiled at jake as he patted his back, "exactly" he said to him before he walked off, heading back inside the mansion.

two weeks went by of you trying to plan your wedding with your mother and younger sisters. you had all sorts of ideas for the wedding but your mother wasn't exactly the easiest to plan with considering she kept on holding it off every chance she got.

the constant planning and meeting with nikolaos and his family was starting to open your eyes a little more to things that you hadn't even thought about before you got engaged. yes, nikolaos is the sweetest man you know but that doesn't mean there weren't a lot of things that the two of you didn't agree on. nikolaos was a traditional man and he didn't seem to be willing to give any of that up... even for you.

"i don't understand why you can't just let me be involved in some of the business stuff" you frowned at your fiance, "you won't even let me make any decisions? how is that fair if it's a family business!''

nikolaos let out a sigh as he turned to you, "exactly. my family business. you will be my wife, not my business partner. you are meant to stay at home and make decisions at home. not in matters of business. that's not how things work. you are needed at the estate. who will make the decisions at our home if you're not around?"

you felt as if you had been hit in the chest when he emphasized that it was his family business. you didn't think he meant to intentionally be mean by saying it but he said it and meant it. even though the two of you were to be married, he didn't yet see you as someone who was a part of his family. this only further made you feel as if you were an object of decoration for him.

the two of you were having this conversation as you went for a stroll at the public park, members from the both of your families following the two of you from not far behind. all you could think to yourself in that moment was that you needed to get away.

you tilted your head up as you stopped and looked over at nikolaos. "i can't continue with this conversation because i'm afraid that if we do, i will be pushing you into the river." nikolaos' eyes widened at your statement as he watched you continue to walk, "i need to be alone now."

you looked back at your mother and one of your younger sisters then glancing over at nikolaos' mother, "i will be heading off to walk on my own. i'll be in the area, i just need to be alone right now." before any of them could protest you quickly walked off, making your way over to the small bridge that went over the water a bit away. you didn't want to be anywhere near them either.

you leaned against the railing of the bridge, looking over and onto the water. the water was so clear you could see all of the fish swimming around in it. you soon started to feel tears start to prickle your eyes and to keep them from falling you tilted your head back and let out a deep breath.

"not sure if the lady y/n should be off on her own, don't you think?" you heard a somewhat familiar voice say off to the side of you.

you turned your head to see heeseung standing at the end of the bridge with his hands behind his back. he slowly began to approach you with a smirk on his face, finding his place to stand right next to you.

you cleared your throat and bowed slightly, "your grace."

heeseung let out a low laugh and when he did you honestly thought you've never heard anything more beautiful. "formalities? you surprise me. seems you still have manners."

you lowered your head, turning your body to completely face him. "your grace, i am so sorry about that night i really didn't mean to offend you. i just truly... wouldn't wish to be in your position."

heeseung glanced at you before then turning to look down at the water. he leaned against the railing, placing his arms over it so his hands were now dangling over. "aren't you kind of though?"

"excuse me?"

"this marriage, it's something you thought you've always wanted. yet now your feelings are changing about it. or am i wrong?"

you scoffed at the duke. he looked down at the water completely unphased and you hated his arrogance about it. how did he even know about your situation anyways? you thought to yourself.

"i know things" he smiled, "i am the duke, no? i've got my sources of information. plus your heated conversation with nikolaos wasn't exactly low profile like you thought it was. i've done my research. i know the kind of man he is and the kind of woman you are" he said before he looked at you, "you'll be miserable."

your face immediately heated up at his words and you mentally cursed at yourself for it. he knew everything and he spoke of you as if he knew you and something about it made your heart do a million flips. you should have been weirded out, maybe even a little terrified but how could you be when this gorgeous man stood in front of you saying exactly all of the things that you were thinking?

"what are you saying, your grace? i am engaged. this isn't something i can't exactly back out of and i can't seem to change my fiancé's opinion on the matter." you said to him, desperately wanting his eyes to meet yours once again.

heeseung leaned back, placing his hands behind his back once again. his eyes found yours and he took a few steps towards you, "anything is possible, no? i propose..." he started as he reached his hand out and grabbed your gloved hand, "that you come and marry me instead."

you gasped at the contact and although you didn't feel him with your bare skin it was still something and feeling his thumb caress your hand was making you feel all sorts of unbelievable things. you looked up at him with wide eyes, "m-marry you? what are you talking about? you're already engaged and... why me?!"

heeseung pulled his hand away from you, "don't get me wrong my lady, this is purely business. i need to get married because my grandmother keeps pestering me about it and it would be good for the estate and my image. falling in love is not something that interests me at the moment and well you... you want a marriage in which your husband will let you do as you please, no? let you involve yourself instead of keep you home to bear his children. letting you have decisions in regards to my business matters is something i am willing to do."

right, of course. the duke was known as a playboy. falling in love was of course something he didn't care about, a marriage simply for his public image where his wife could care less about what he does in his free time is the ideal arrangement for him. while that wasn't something you were looking for and if anything, you thought yourself to be somewhat a hopeless romantic, a marriage to the duke seemed a million times better than a one to nikolaos at the moment.

you don't even think you were thinking clearly in that moment because without thinking for more than a minute you quickly nodded your head at the duke.

"i'll do it. i'll marry you."

[raineydays411]

My Father's Daughter

Part 9

Summary: You've been at the Wayne Manor for over a month.

In some weird way you understand Christine.

You understand why she tries so hard to spend time with you while you're in her home. Why she begs for you to get off of your phone and cook with her. You get why she tries to make the other kids be nice to you. Scolds them harshly when they make snide comments underneath their breath about you.

Truly, you do.

You just...genuinely don't give a shit.

You don't care that she feels bad that she abandoned you for a completely other family and you don't care that she feels like she's losing time to create a bond with you.

You did not care.

Really, you didn't.

"Um,kid... you know I love you but I'm really not that kind of doctor" Bruce Banner said awkwardly over facetime.

You sigh. "Yeah I know B. You were just the first one to pick up the phone."

"Ouch." Banner laughed, " you know, you really are your fathers child."

You smile, one of the rare times you actually did nowadays. " How is the old man?"

You haven't been able to call him since he was paranoid whoever wants you would track your phone calls and find out where you are.

"Your father is even more annoying now without you than he ever has been in my entirety of knowing him" Banner deadpans, " He misses you a lot kiddo, we all do."

You smile sadly, missing your family.

It was hard, seeing these people you barely knew, with a mother you barely knew, stuck in a house you barely knew.

And the fact that they feel like a family. They argue and play jokes on each other. They eat with each other every afternoon ( Bat activities at night), Bruce kisses Christine goodbye when he goes to work. It was so domestic in its weird little ways.

But you didn't fit in.

They laughing and the jokes stopped whenever you walked into the room. The conversations were stale.

It was depressing.

It's not like they ignored you, oh no. That would've been preferable.

No half of them trip over their feet to try and include you in whatever they're doing.

Dick will turn blue chatting your ear off about whatever he thinks will get you to open up to him and Christine?

She will bend over backwards, frontwards, and sideways just to get you to acknowledge she gave birth to you. Every night she comes into your room and tries to talk to you about your life. And every question is met with a dull answer

"So any boys that catch your interest here?" " I don't know, I can't leave the premises"

"Were you in any sports? You look like you'd be a cheerleader like your momma!" " I was in mathletes and debate like Pepper"

"You really are beautiful my baby" "Thanks, everyone says I look like my dad"

It really was a struggle to get you to open up. Almost everyone at the manor had a hard time even starting a conversation with you.

Everyone except of course Alfred and surprisingly Jason Todd.

Alfred won you over as soon as you moved in. He vouched for you when you needed time alone and brings you snacks>

Jason is a whole different story.

See, the reason why it's so hard for everyone to talk to you is because they all refuse to acknowledge the elephant in the room. They're treating you like you were some other orphan Annie they decided to adopt and you just have no family waiting and missing you.

Jason doesn't.

In fact, it was him who caught you trying to sneak out of the mansion the first week you were there. Instead of scolding you or telling on you, he took you out.

"A cap and sunglasses? Kid, that's not a disguise."

"What do you mean?"

He took you to a diner he frequents, a tour of the rooftops to avoid people, and to the safe house he took over from Bruce.

"Tell me about your life." He demands, not asks.

You smile and tell him about it. Your life growing up with the Avengers, school and what major you're going for, that brief fling you had with Pietro before you had to move to Gotham.

It was nice. To be with someone that didn't want to change you. He didn't try to force you into forgiveness and let you vent. He even gave some pretty sound advice.

"You know, at some point you are going to forgive her." He says ignoring your indignant stare, " You don't gotta be bestfriends with her or anything, but that anger is going to either slowly consume you or slowly go way. And believe me, you want it to slowly go way."

And he was right in some ways. The longer you're there, the less anger there is and the more hurt replaces it. It festers inside you like some disease. The symptoms slowly leaking out every time one of them calls her mom.

Every night she comes into your room and tries to pry into your life as if she didn't voluntarily leave it, you feel it.

Everytime you see her brush Cassandra's hair out of her eyes, or kiss damian on the forehead. It's the gentle way she smiles whenever she sees Tim hyperfocused on mission reports, and the way she gets so excited whenever Dick or Jason walk through the front door. Hugging them and chiding them for not visiting more.

It hurts you that they truly are a family.

And after a while, it gets hard for you to try and say that you truly didn't give a shit.

Because honestly, you did

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

Taglist: @stupendousnightmaretrash @opheliaas-stuff

[ewingstan]

Going into Ward, one of the things that interested me is that pretty much everyone who read it, no matter what the felt about it as a whole, seemed to like what it did with Tattletale and incorporate it into their understanding of the character. To a certain extent this makes sense, outside of Amy people's problems with Worm usually aren't that characterization had been changed. But few other aspects of Ward have been talked about with so much relative positivity, or influenced so much retroactive analysis of Worm.

After reading her interlude, I'm starting to understand why.

From the bat we're given blunt and effective portrayals of how alone Lisa feels. Half of her descriptions of other characters focused on how they reminded her of people she's lost. The Heartbroken are primarily described by the ways they do and don't resemble Alec. Aiden by how he does and doesn't resemble Taylor. Imp and Rachel get mentioned but don't get to make an appearance at all, furthering the effect—reminders of her closest connections are everywhere, but the connections themselves are nowhere. She's left with the "expanded Undersiders," and is painfully aware of how they either dislike her or will never form a close connection with her.

There's a lot more emphasis here on how her power is a separate entity than there was in Lisa's Worm interlude. She's snarking at it, talking about it as something that interjects, drawing a clear divide in her head between what it figures out and what she figures out. Is that her knowledge of its nature developing, or simply a new way of looking at how it always worked?

The framing in the passage above seems to suggest that its encouraging her to distance herself from others, pushing her to interact but specifically feeding her information that will prevent close connections. Questions of agency and identity aside, I do like this as an aspect of powers-as-coping-mechanisms: she was triggered by failing to save someone she was close to, not recognizing the signs that he was unwell. Her power helps her see the signs she couldn't before, but it also seems to try to prevent those close connections from forming so she can't be hurt the same way. Not that its successful. Can't stop betting on losing dogs and all.

What she calls people internally is interesting. I figured she had been calling Sveta "Garotte" earlier to needle her, but she continues to call her that in her own thoughts, as does her power. Valkyrie gets to be "Valkyrie," and Vicky isn't called a cape name at all. There's a few ways to interpret this; I'm tempted to say that Lisa sees Victoria as a relic of pre-Gold Morning days, and sees Sveta largely in that context. Though I also feel like there's some refusal to see her or Rain as people who are separate from what they've done in the past. A lot of the comments I've read while reading the last few chapters are people debating whether she should've gone "white-hat," and I get the sense that she sees something dishonest in that. Leaving behind the things you've done isn't something she can do—even Lisa Wilbourn can't leave behind the failures of Sarah Livsey.

That might be something to think about in the context of Victoria claiming Tattletale is awful because she represents "giving up on something better." Its kind of baffling in that context; many people have pointed out that cutting the number of overdoses in half was way better than anything the heroes ever did, but Victoria resents that TT saw merely halving it as acceptable. She prefers methods that highlight a certain attitude towards a problem over methods that are effective at dealing with a problem. Having zero tolerance for overdoses and being able to do fuck-all about it becomes preferable to halving it, because not giving up on an ideal world is better than actually making the world better. As little regard as I have for Victoria's position, it seems that the text is giving it some credence by positioning Lisa not just as pursuing the methods that will make an actual difference, but also as rejecting the idea of "something better." Sveta can't be more than Garotte, overdose rates can be halved but not lowered further. Its weirdly reifying of Victoria's position, making Lisa a foil to it rather than a reflection of an entirely unrelated worldview.

There's a few team leaders in the parahumans-verse who get characterized as encouraging and benefiting from chaos within their ranks. Jack Slash had a self-image of himself as a master manipulator who knew just how to keep the Nine at each others throats to keep them in line, though of course his power was pulling heavy duty there. Trickster exulted in sowing chaos, but while he could use it to his advantage when working alone it explicitly got in the way of the Travellers as a whole during their operations. Lisa incorporates aspects of both; she seems to be cultivating a "this chaos is all part of my design" air for Faultline and Victoria while actually always being on the cusp of losing control of her own team. It seems less like something she's doing deliberately and more like something she has to deal with, even if she later frames it as part of preparing Aiden or something similar.

Man, her relationship with Aiden. First explicit mention of Taylor we've had since the beginning and its for a blunt confirmation that she sees herself as failing Taylor in the same way she failed Rex, and is terrified of doing with Aiden. It feels both like she's holding him at arms length and that she's desperate for a close connection with him.

[scientia-rex]

Hysteria isn't a fucking thing

ok fun fact: I'm rapidly becoming a cult favorite doctor among our local privileged elderly white ladies, which I have mixed feelings about, but the #1 reason is that I just don't leap to "anxiety" as an explanation for symptoms unless the patient tells me "I am anxious, and then I feel these symptoms, and when I am not anxious, I don't feel these symptoms."

The sheer number of women I've seen who've been told for years to decades that the only thing wrong with them is anxiety is fucking staggering, in this Year Of Our Lord 2023, and I just keep digging. We checked a basic lab panel, sure. CBC. No anemia. CMP. Kidneys are fine. (Electrolytes are basically always going to be fine if someone is well enough to walk into my office under their own power to talk to me. Exception is mild chronic hyponatremia.) And we check thyroid. TSH and free T4. We check blood sugar. A1c, if the fasting is a little weird. Fasting insulin, if I'm still suspicious. We check cortisol. Inflammatory markers--ESR and CRP.

And eventually, if the symptoms support it, or right away, depending on my level of suspicion, we check rheumatological labs for abnormal autoimmune function. Anti-nuclear antibody. Rheumatoid factor. There's at least a dozen you can check, and which ones you should check is always a matter of debate and also of expertise that I 100% lack. We are out in the sticks. There are no "local" rheumatologists for me to send people to.

But a couple of weeks ago I found a woman--she has bipolar disorder and has been told for decades that's all that's wrong with her--who has an anti-centromere antibody titer that's fucking through the roof. I found an anxious 19-year-old with an ANA of 1:1380. And yesterday I found out why a sweet elderly woman I've seen for a year or two now started feeling crappy months ago: her rheumatoid factor is over 90.

Rheumatological disorders are always difficult. Our understanding of them varies from "pretty good, actually, and here are useful treatments" to "Well I Guess That Exists." Labs aren't always a slam-dunk and even labs plus symptoms can give you misleading impressions. Your immune system can decide that virtually any short chunk of protein is an enemy, and the problem with that is that your body is made up of many, many, many short chunks of proteins, so the odds that you'll develop some kind of antibody against yourself just keeps going up over your lifetime. Immune disorders tend to travel in packs; there's a clear genetic element to it, so the more first-degree relatives (parent, sibling, child) you have with any kind of autoimmune disorder (including Type 1 diabetes), the higher your risk of any kind of autoimmune disorder is, and if you already have one autoimmune disorder, you're at higher risk for developing another one.

But I think it's precisely because they're difficult that a lot of mainstream primary care prefers to pretend they don't exist, rather than try to sift through the utter fucking mess that is Mixed Connective Tissue Disorders, a title that has fallen out of favor since I learned it in my third year of med school. And women are at higher risk for autoimmune disorders than men. And older women are at higher risk than younger women.

So if I, as a family doc, just keep digging, just keep poking at the tangled knot of symptoms, there's a decent chance I will uncover something interesting. Hopefully something treatable. Sometimes we have nothing to treat with, and I just get to offer someone more understanding of their disorder, which feels pretty paltry but is better than the casual dismissal of "You're just anxious."

Never, ever, ever take anxiety as a diagnosis for a symptom other than anxiety. Not even as a rule-out. Keep those symptoms as an open question mark on the patient. Don't say "anxiety" just so you can close the door. And damn sure don't do it to women.

I'm actively working on learning more so I can be more helpful, in our Rheum-less community, so if you have good lectures or books, please drop me a lead.

[ape-apocalypse]

There's been a lot of talk about Mae since Kingdom's release and she seems to be the character most people are split on, especially with the ending. After much pondering, here are my own thoughts about her, the alternate ending that almost was, and her path in upcoming movies. Spoilers ahead!

Straight to the point, I liked her character. In a lot of ways, she reminded me of Caesar. Her entire goal is focused on protecting humans no matter the cost to apes, much like what Caesar did to protect apes from humans. She has a no-nonsense determination to complete her mission and she doesn't trust apes, even Noa who she spends the majority of the film with. I watched Kingdom thinking it was odd that there was no real bond between Noa and Mae but I think that was on purpose. Though they both rely on each other to complete their individual missions and they concur that Proximus should not have access to what is in the vault, they don't fully trust each other. I know some people are upset that she brought a gun to her final meeting with Noa. Honestly, I don't blame her because they don't trust each other! 

Freya Allan revealed in a recent interview that the goodbye scene between her and the chimp was originally filmed differently. "In the scene that I shot, Mae was going there to kill him because he scares her. His intelligence scares her. Mae doesn't want to kill him, but she feels she has to... Originally, you actually see her pull the gun on Noa, but his back is turned to her. And so you think, 'Oh my God, is she about to shoot him?' Mae is crying as she's doing it... and then she doesn't. The minute he mentions Raka's name, she puts the gun down. But then in the edit, they wanted it to feel more subtle, and I honestly way prefer what they've done with it. It's so much smarter and really allows you to think more... so it becomes a very emotional goodbye, one with tragic, lingering doom."

I'm really relieved that they changed the ending. If she had actually drawn the gun on Noa, especially when his back was turned, I would have been pissed. But the ending we received, with an almost old school Western stand-off between two opponents, with them actually debating if this town - this planet - is big enough for the both of them, I think it perfectly sets up the tension between humans and apes heading into the next movie. 

Now I do wish they had done something to make her a little more sympathetic to hating the apes. There is the briefest mention that Proximus' apes killed the other humans she was traveling with but it's really glossed over. I wish when she and Noa were making the plan, Mae had mentioned the group again. Maybe that someone she cared about was killed or just how vicious the attack was and she saw terrible things. First, this would have connected Noa and Mae more because of the attack on Eagle Clan and the death of Koro, which Freya Allan confirms: "Proximus' apes killed her camp, similarly to Noa's, which is what's so bizarre about it". Second, it would have made Mae have some personal stake in the downfall of Proximus. This clearly was the intention because Allan says in defense of her character's actions, "She's gone through so much, she's lost all the people she cares about, which was a large part of how I justified everything she did." The backstory was there but a few extra lines would have made her thoughts clear and perhaps gotten more of the audience on her side. Allan elaborates that she even "...created a backstory that her parents had also gone off and tried to do the same mission, but they never came back and presumably died". I'm not sure if they were worried about the already long length of the movie that they felt the need to leave this out but I really wish they had added in even a few lines that would have allowed people to empathize with her.

Regardless of how she was portrayed in this movie, I'm already starting to theorize for the next film (with the hopes that Disney will announce its approval soon!). I think the next movie will have Mae fully on the side of the humans in her base/bunker and whoever they connected with. She completed her mission in Kingdom and there will be a new mission to recover the planet for humans that she'll be part of. She will be fully invested in it but something will change by the end of the film that will make her want peace between apes and humans. Then she'll spend the third film in the trilogy helping Noa to find a way to end bloodshed between the two species. 

There is a little part of me that wouldn't mind a female bad guy, because there hasn't been one in any of these films, even back to the originals. But honestly, I do want to see Mae and Noa reconcile and become friends and partners. Who knows, maybe Dichen Lachman's character Korina (the human in the hazmat suit who comes out to greet Mae at the end, who I adore in the TV show Dollhouse) will be the leader of the humans and the main villain of the next film, satisfying my wish for a female baddie? That would leave Mae free to have a redemption story where she helps Noa and works with him to protect apes from whatever the humans are plotting.

[jewreallythinkthat]

Wait.

You blew my mind with:

“Canonically in Tanach, there is an admittance that other gods exist”

I didn’t know this! I’m agnostic, and not in anyway Jewish, but trying to learn more about peoples and cultures other than the one I was raised.

I always thought Jewish monotheism was similar to Xtian (if we can call the trinity monotheistic!) in that, there’s only one god and any other claims are people being mistaken because people.

Is this not the view in Judaism then? Is it like, there’s only one god Jews care about because covenant? Others exist and it’s fine for gentiles to worship them?

Hey Nonnie!

So like everything in Judaism, it's a hotly debated topic - and please other people on Jumblr, feel free to join in the convo! I cannot speak for all Jews so this is just my opinion and conclusions I've drawn from chats about Thai with friends.

There's a couple of points you've mentioned which I'll address (a bit out of order) if that's ok?

So about the trinity in Christianity, I've always found it a little bizarre as to me, the monotheism of having three 'aspects' of god is a bit ... Dodgy? I've never really been able to see how it can count as monotheism when prayers are literally sent to the father, the son and the holy spirit. But also, I'm not Christian and I'm sure someone may be able to hop in and explain how that doesn't count as praying to different gods!

I'm regard to the Jewish view of deities - I think a few quotes from the Tanach may be useful for this one. The translation I'm using is from Chabad online as I cannot be bothered to get my Tanach from the other side of the room and transcribe. Translations often vary a bit here and I prefer the ones I grew up with but the general gist will be there. I've highlighted the bits I view as especially important in red.

So first -

Genesis, chapter 1, verse 26

And God said, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness, and they shall rule over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the heaven and over the animals and over all the earth and over all the creeping things that creep upon the earth."

Genesis chapter 3, verse 22

Now the Lord God said, "Behold man has become like one of us, having the ability of knowing good and evil, and now, lest he stretch forth his hand and take also from the Tree of Life and eat and live forever."

I mean this, to me, implies G-d to be talking to others right? God says "our", as if more than one is there at the time, almost observing the creation. In the second one, again God is talking other beings which must be like God for they are referred to by the collective 'us'.

Exodus, chapter 20, verses 1-5 (the start of the first reading of the 10 commandments)

God spoke all these words, to respond:

"I am the Lord, your God, Who took you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.

You shall not have the gods of others in My presence.

You shall not make for yourself a graven image or any likeness which is in the heavens above, which is on the earth below, or which is in the water beneath the earth.

You shall neither prostrate yourself before them nor worship them, for I, the Lord, your God, am a zealous God, Who visits the iniquity of the fathers upon the sons, upon the third and the fourth generation of those who hate Me,

So this is where it gets interesting. There is specificity in the first line 'your God', not the God of other people but specifically the people Yisrael for this is addressed to them and them alone. This then is followed by explicit acknowledgement that other peoples have their own gods and to worship them is a BIG no no.

This is also where we get another famous antisemitic trope from - the idea that Jews think they are better than others because they are the 'chosen' people. This is, of course, bollocks. Not only is the 'chose' more like chosen to do the washing up rather than chosen as favourite, it is also specifically to do with the Jews as the ones with whom God, our God, has the covenant. We are the ones in the contract, chosen to have to fulfill the mitzvot. The Jews were the ones with the king list of things they had to do while others are not bound by the covenant and may do as they please.

Now from the Haggadah (which tells the story of the exodus and is ready during the Passover Seder) we have this - it's the section about the 10th plague so there is a lot of talk of death and child death.

As it is said: “I shall pass through the land of Egypt on that night; I shall kill every firstborn son in the land of Egypt, man and beast, and I shall pass judgment on all the gods of Egypt: I am the LORD.”

“I shall pass through the land of Egypt on that night” – I and no angel. “I shall kill every firstborn son in the land of Egypt” – I and no seraph. “And I shall pass judgment on all the gods of Egypt” – I and no emissary. “I am the LORD” – It is I and no other.

We have explicit mention that the Egyptians have their own gods. We also have the final line - 'it is I and no other' - why would God need to clarify it is Godsself rather than a different god, unless God I is acknowledging there are other godly beings? It's also worth nothing, the judgment and punishment on the Egyptians is not a punishment for worshipping other gods for the Egyptians never entered into a covenant with Hashem - the Israelites who built the golden calf however did suffer quite severe punishment.

If there are other gods, the others have nothing to do with me because theyre not the one my people have a covenant with. If others want to worship them, I don't care. It doesn't affect me in any way so they can do what they want 🤣

I also, from a personal pov, like the fact that this horrific thing, the slaying of the first born, would be performed by God rather than being delegated to an angel or a seraph. There's something about the big boss taking on the worst of the jobs (as it were) which I really respect as clearly God has emotions (from the line about God being jealous) and I cannot imagine that slaying the first borns (of all ages, not just children, it just says every priest born) is a task that would have been anything other than mentally destroying.

It's also important to note that I do not believe this happened - otherwise I'd not be so flippant about mentions of child death and murder. I view the Torah as the written version of the oral histories of the Jewish people, a tribe's oral history that like with many indigenous peoples oral histories, has been embellished and mythologised. It's a good story with grains of truth to tell the history of how the people Yisrael came to be, how our culture and people became not just a group of random tribes but a community with shared history and culture and traditions.

I'm never sure if I believe God exists. Some days I really do wish there ot be something else - often when I think about achievements that I've done which are the result of the help of family members who have since died and I like the idea that they could still be there in some way to enjoy and see how grateful I am for them helping me get to where I am. Other times, I look at things like October 7th, the famine in Sudan, the innocents dying in Gaza, genocides in Rwanda, Bosnia, Cambodia etc and I think "how could a god allow this to happen". There is so much suffering in the world and I cannot bring myself to believe that a god could condone that when they have the power to literally create the world, to strike Egypt with the plages, when they have the power to stop the suffering.

I'm glad that in Judaism, we don't focus on the afterlife in the way I see it centred in Christianity and Islam. I don't view the notions of Heaven and Hell as beneficial and while ther are notions of them in Judaism, they've generally very much sidelined and not centered in conversation.

While the beneficiary of help does not care if you have helped them altruistically or because you think it will help you get into heaven, the concepts of heaven and hell have been used to slaughter so many innocents in the name of religion and I am thankful that for me, I've never seen this in Judaism because the important stuff is what happens when you're alive. You should be focussing on the here and now, to try and complete as many of God's commandments as possible. What happens when you die? Well frankly that's a problem for you when you get there. (Obviously I know there are extremists within the Jewish world - ie WB Settlers - but they are such a small minority and certainly are not a major part of the history of our people)

Anyway, this answer sort of got away from me so sorry about that. I hope you at least found it interesting and enjoy the foray into learning about other cultures!

[russellsppttemplates]

What we have is worth fighting for (Lance Stroll)

Lance's lifestyle seems so different to your own that your mind has no other place to go other than doubt

Note: english is not my first language. Here's some Lance for you. And also a topic that whenever I have way too much time, I sometimes think about and I have yet to reach a proper conclusion. Do I like how this turned out? I'm not sure

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: reader has worries and negative thoughts that could be associated with anxiousness

"Do you have time to go to my place for a bit? I know you have an early morning tomorrow.", Lance pointed out despite wanting to enjoy your company for a little longer. Looking at your wristwatch, you debated it, figuring that, realistically, another night where you slept a little bit less was not going to make a difference considering you hadn't slept the recommended amount of hours since you were a teenager, "I have time", you smiled, allowing Lance to open the door on the passengers' side of his car so you could get in.

It was not the first time you had been in his car on your way to his place. From the beggining, you understood that while Lance had a very public job, he preferred to keep the other parts of his life on the private side, hence the fact that you had kept your dates as private as possible, in smaller places in town that you knew of and between your flat and his place. You sat in his big sofa after leaving your shoes at the door, making yourself as comfortable as you could while he went to the laundry room, mentioning something about a blanket he had spilled some tea on.

"The stain is cleaned, so, there you go", Lance announced, arriving with the soft material in his arm and giving it to you, "do you want some tea? I think I found the one we had at your place last week", he offered, accepting your nod, "yes, please", and heading for his kitchen.

Looking around, you couldn't help the curiosity that came over you as you looked at all the picture frames while laying the blanket on top of your legs. Some family holidays, you presumed, with Lance and his sister playing in snow in some pictures, but also some with a beautiful beach in the background. The pictures with a city background made it harder for you to guess where it was, some aspects allowing you to distinguish between probable different continents given the architectural design of the buildings, but still not enough to list all of them. "Don't look to close or you might start loosing interest", Lance startled you as he walked with two steaming mugs, setting them on the coasters on the coffee table in front of you.

Blushing for being caught, you thanked him and held the mug between your hands, taking a sip from it as you expected him to pick up on any subject we'd want to talk about. Lately, every day you had spent some time with Lance, it usually ended up in either of your places, just talking while having some form of snack or drinks. He was definitely not who you expected to click with, much less with how quick it happened. You felt yourself roll your eyes everytime you thought about it, but he was the picture you imagined whenever someone questioned you about the qualities in the partner you were looking for.

"I think it's time for me to go home", you admitted reluctantly, realising that if you didn't, you would suffer the consequences while you were attending lectures, "let me take you then", Lance smiled, patting his thighs and getting up while you folded the blanket. "No, no need, I can just call an Uber, I-", you were interrupted by Lance, "Nonsense, I suggested we come here, and I have the time, I'll do it", he noted, grabbing his car keys once he put his shoes on and leading the way.

.

"Hey, are you having a good day? I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time", Lance asked over the phone, the sound of the blinker allowing you to presume he was driving, "hello! I've had a full day, I'm leaving the library now - thank you, see you tomorrow -, sorry, I was just talking to the desk lady, but yes, it's been work heavy, but I got all of it done", you smiled and sighed, the tiredness overcoming your body as you walked down the stairs.

"That's good, Y/N, that's amazing!", he reinforced, "how would you feel about having something to eat together? I know you probably don't want to go anywhere, so how about I get us some take away and I meet you at your place?", he offered, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Given your busy schedule and how tired you got when it all piled up, it was not easy for some of your friends to understand that you preferred to stay in instead of going out.

"That's a nice plan. I'm going home now, so I'll meet you there? I just have to change out of these clothes so I look a little bit more presentable", you chuckled, "I'm sure you look the prettiest", he urged over the phone, "I'm going to call and make the order and then I'll let you know when I'm heading to your place", he finished, bidding goodbye to eachother as you walked home.

Walking inside your small flat, you thanked your past self for having taken care of cleaning it during the weekend, only having to put away some textbooks and some folders so the papers wouldn't be floating around the living room. It didn't take long before Lance texted you saying he already had the food with him and that he was making his way to your place.

You were setting the table when you heard the knock on the door, looking around and checking if anything else was misplaced before opening the door, "hey! Come in", you urged him, seeing Lance carrying two bags of food, "can you bring those to the table, please? I'll just leave my shoes and coat here", he smiled charmingly, doing so while you carried the bags to the table, wondering what he could've possibly bought that was so heavy.

"I'm here!", Lance approached you, kissing your cheek and showing you a small bunch of flowers, "the shop by the restaurant only had these left, they were just about to close and the lady made them look as pretty as possible", be smiled, handing you the nice smelling flowers, "Oh, I wasn't expecting these, thank you!", you smiled, kissing his cheek and he took the opportunity to squeeze you into a hug, "it's alright", he forwarded, "Shall we eat though? I'm quite hungry, and I bet you are too, so I got a little portion of a few things from this italian that is really really good. I went there with my sister when she and her husband visited and they loved it, too!", he said as he took the take out boxes from the paper bags.

Despite there being a lot of different starters and main dishes, they had been perfectly portioned so they would satisfy both of you and not leave any leftovers, "Oh, try this! It's incredible", you mentioned, swirling your fork so you could gather the pasta and forming a shell with your hand so the sauce wouldn't drip and you could give it to Lance, not even thinking about how the gesture would be perceived. Quickly, Lance ate the forkful and groaned, not seeming to have minded it, "it tastes amazing! But is is better than this one?", he quirked, doing the same wirh his fork and feeding you a ravioli, smiling when he noticed your puffed out cheeks blowing air so it wouldn't be as hot.

Like usual, conversation flowed easily and you had a great night, ending up sitting together on your sofa and had slowly inched closer to one another, "today really tired you out, hm? Do you want me to leave?", Lance said, noticing you were nearly falling asleep on his shoulder, "no, don't leave", you quickly replied, "but yes, I had a lot to get through", you noted, feeling his head turn to look at you, "what tasks did you so then? Is it that research project?", he curiously asked. Looking back up at him, you listed all the things you had done, "we got to the next phase already, so that's been good, but also more work. Then some spreadsheets where I almost lost my mind, but some video on YouTube explained it, so that was sorted", you said, "and that was it. I know it sounds like I didn't do much, but it did consume some energy", you blushed, "Why would you say that? You are in front of all these projects and making sure things are running smoothly. That's not an easy job, you should be proud of yourself, like I am", he tempted. It wasn't the first time he had said something like that, and he hoped you were starting to catch up on his intentions. It was hard to deny the attraction he felt for you, but also how you just clicked. Lance hadn't felt like that about someone in a really long time, where he thought that someone could be it in the long run. While he didn't want to come on too strong or feel like he was on a clock, he also wanted to make sure you knew where he stood when it came to you.

"You are?", you questioned, maybe a bit too strong for the average person's liking, but it was not a word you heard everyday, much less a feeling you knew people had for you. "Yes, I'm very proud of you. Of what you're doing and how you're doing it", Lance looked straight into your eyes, "I'm also growing very fond of you. I really like you, Y/N", he gazed between your lips and your eyes.

"I really like you too, Lance", you whispered, afraid to disturb if you spoke to loud you'd ruin the moment, pushing your face closer to his so you could show him that if he wanted to, you were all in as well.

The Canadian driver took this opportunity to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb on your clean cheek before he pressed his lips to yours, lips moudling perfectly with one another. Smiling within the kiss, you wetr the first to break it off for air, looking up at him, "seems we're on the same page then".

You spent the rest of the night basking in eachothers affection, feeling brave enough to do so now that you both knew how the other felt and enjoying how it made you feel until Lance had to leave, "tomorrow has an early start for me, so I better get going", he groaned, getting up from the sofa and holding his hand out, making you attach your hand to his. Thinking he was just helping you up, you were surprised when he pushed you up with enough strength to face his, chest to chest so he could kiss your forehead, "C'mon, I want to help you tidy the kitchen before I leave", he smiled, guiding you both to the room in question so you could do so.

Lance had already left with a kiss of goodnight and a promise he would text you when he got gome, leaving you to close the apartment and also get ready for bed. Walking out of the kitchen, you noticed that you had left one of the paper bags on the floor, grabbing it so you could fold it for another time when you heard some wrinkling. Inside, the noise belonged to the receipt of the order, and you grabbed it mindlessly and a little curious. The food was great, you recognised, but the price Lance paid for a middle of the week take away was out of whatever you could have imagined. He insisted he wanted to pay for it all, despite you saying that you should at least pay your half, and now you couldn't help but think how normal and fine it had been for him to just swipe his card and pay for it. Probably like the no big deal that it was for him.

.

Lance was away for a race weekend, and despite the busy schedule, he still found time to videocall you, always looking forward to hearing how your day went and what you had been up to, "we just started on the data collection, and it's going really well. It's not some groundbreaking thing right now, but it's going somewhere, I can feel it", you smiled, "and you? The car seemed good today", you asked him, seeing his smile that went immediately to your stomach, butterflies erupting into a dance.

"Yes, it was incredible! It finally feels like we have a car that can takes us to the podium of the championship, you know? It's a pleasure to drive and the track is awesome!", he beamed, "I just wish you were here with me to experience it all, the city's really cool too", he offered, listing a few activities he had done and places he had seen.

There was another thing that got your mind spinning. As much as you didn't like to admit it, those thoughts had been plaguing your mind for a few days now. If there was some scale to assess it, you're Lance's lifestyle and your own would be pretty far from eachothers. He spent the better part of his year travelling around the world, staying in the most luxurious hotels and enjoying the most incredible experiences. On your end, you were lucky if you got enough time to take some time off and away from all the work. If this was to go further, your schedule and your lifestyle wouldn't allow you to be the partner that travels to nearly all the races or the one that is seen strutting around the paddock in the most lavish outfits. Would that be an obstacle in the relationship you were building with Lance? Should you start backing out now?

"Hey, Y/N?", he called, "is everything okay? I think I lost you there for a bit", he smiled, teasing you even though there was also a slight concern, "are you too tired? I probably shouldn't have called so late, right?", he forwarded. Despite not wanting him to feel guilty about it, you took the opportunity since your mind wasn't settling, "don't feel guilty, Lance. I haven't been sleeping well these past few nights and it's catching up on me", you half lied, "but I think I might have an early night today, see if sleep comes around", you smiled genuinely at the screen as you saw his features soften, "alright, sweetheart. Have a good sleep", he softly said, blowing you a kiss while you did the same, dialing off the call and pressing the phone to your chest.

Would this feeling on your chest ever settle down? Would your mind stop racing about thoughts about why you'd never fit in Lance's life? The worry grew even bigger, considering you were probably not going to fall asleep for a while.

.

Sitting at Lance's dining table after spending the entire afternoon with him, you tried your best to mask the thoughts that had been plaguing you and that you hadn't managed to shut off. But apparently, not with enough skill, "there's something worrying you, I can tell that much", he noted, "is it something I can help you with? Also totally okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I don't like seeing you so stressed", he launched his hand so it would land on top of yours, softly caressing the skin.

"Can I be really honest with you about what has been bothering me?", you asked, already knowing this would be an important conversation and no matter where it ended up going, it needed to happen sooner rather than later, "sure, Y/N, absolutely", he assured, growing a little bit more concerned at your tone.

"I don't fit in this, Lance", you began, gesturing your hands around, "your world is so different than mine in so many ways, I could never fit in it", you gulped, "you were just saying earlier this afternoon that maybe it was time for us to take the next step, and I don't know if I can", you stopped to gather your thoughts.

"It's okay if you're not ready, I'll wait. And I didn't want to pressure you, I'm sorry if it felt like that", Lance was quick to say, an expression of guilt somehow in his features.

"No, it's not because I don't have feelings for you, because they're here, they're very much here!", you chuckled nervously, "I just don't think I fit in your life like it was supposed to be, like it's expected", you mumbled the last part, forcing yourself to look at him. It pained you as well, because the look on his face was also painful. He wasn't expecting you to feel like this, so much so that there was little to ask but "did I do something to make you feel like that?", still not sure if it was what he wanted to ask.

"No, it's just that our worlds are different. You paid the equivalent of my university monthly tuition for a dinner that was lovely, but still! That's how different we are, we don't align", you gestured, "I could never be the partner you need. My schedule could never be the same if you wanted me to be at races, because I can't be travelling here and there every weekend. And I'm not someone who attends galas and fancy dinners", you hiccuped, the pressure on your throat building up. Even though you had this perspective, it didn't mean that your feelings were on the same page as it.

"And don't take this the wrong way. I have loved every moment we've spent together, and everything you've done for me. And I'm not blaminh you. Your parents did everything they could for your best, and that's not a bad thing. Don't think I'm pointing fingers because I'm not, it's a privilege you have and it is no one's business, much less my business either. But I don't have it", you let out a shuddered breath.

Lance was at a loss for words, gathering his thoughts before he said something that might come out the wrong way, "and is that something that is a deal breaker?", he asked, "Isn't it? I'm not the person people like you go after. Take a look at everyone on the paddock. All the wives and girlfriends are the opposite of me. Anyone you're supposed to be seen with, to have some sort of a relationship with, they're not me, they're not what you think whenever you imagine someone who relates to you in some way", you gulped again, the tears now clouding you eyes.

"You see, Y/N, it's because of those things that I know we have something good. I don't give a care about what other people think who I should have a relationship with. I never wanted someone according to whatever standard, much less after I met you", he smiled, "you are a breath of fresh air in my life, and I needed that so blady. You showed me that there's so much more to love. You have listened to me, you've been there for the highs and the lows, you've allowed me inside your life and showed me the force of nature that you are", he tempted your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, "yes, all of those scenarios are frequent in my life, and I understand that I'm not around as much as other partners, but it will be my biggest mistake if I let you go without a fight, without showing you that what we have is too good to go", he urged you to look at him, lowering his head so he could catch your eyes and bring your eyelines up a little.

"You know, I texted you during the breaks between free practices and my mother commented that she finally found out why I was so happy, all because I was smiling at the picture you sent me from the library", he smiled, blush covering his cheeks, "and, while we are on this, I'm not going to pretend that I don't have the money, because I have. And I don't pay for things to show it off, I do it because I can and it allows me to show people that I care about them", he explained, "if I ever made you feel uncomfortable because of it, it wasn't intentional. I don't need big plans to feel good with you. I'm happy just sitting next to you on the sofa while we watch some TV or while you read some books", he shrugged, "I'm not even a fan of those big events myself, so I wouldn't want you to be one.

"All I know is that I think we're good together, and I want this to work so bad. I want to be with you if you'll allow me", he squeezed your hand, "or, at least, allow me to show you that what we have is good and that it is worth fighting for", he finished.

You felt somewhat guilty for how you felt about it, even though you also knew you weren't being unreasonable, "I'm sorry, but it was eating me away and, yeah, I didn't know how to go about it", you gestured between your bodies, seeing Lance open his arms so you could sit in his lap, "it's okay, I'm glad we talked about it and everything is clarified. We can always talk about these things, I'm very happy that we did. Even though I'm a little saddened that you think so low of yourself, Y/N", he flicked your hair behind your ear, "you're so amazing, you don't even know it. Your passion about your work, the way you love other people, the way you care about them. All of your concerns that you're not like the others? It's what makes me love you even more, what makes me want this, us, to be it", he smiled, kissing your nose when he saw your smile, moving to kiss your lips multiple times, "now, I've admitted verbally that I love you two times, and I'm yet to know how this goes", he teased.

Smiling again, you craddled Lance's face in your hands, "In case I wasn't clear, I love you too", you giggled, "Good. That's good. I will make it my mission to make sure you know it everyday, but until then, I will enjoy having my girlfriend in my arms", he mumbled, pulling you closer to him, "it's a good thing we are both homebodies then".

[catboybiologist]

Hi, I'm a silly trans kid (any pronouns) who's finding the scene and perception of trans people to be increasingly intimidating and messy when hearing these arguments.

So, if you don't mind, I would like to hear every bit of biology you know, that validates our existence.

Especially if it's instances beyond human life. Like animals. I don't know how much information on that exists, but if you have info on it, I would personally LOVE to hear it- (because transphobes forget humans are a part of nature by default so uhh use nature against them too-)

I think we need more people who actually know how to debate in the conversation so when I form an argument, I want to be able to rely on facts I know to form a logical argument. [(Just kidding I'm going to shout over the other person with random tidbits /hj (no but i just might if they have a megaphone. Thatd be fuckin hilarious-)]

Sincerely, a frustrated trans kid.

I dealt with exactly this, but for now, all I have is a non-answer.

I got burned out writing stuff like this a few months ago, because every time I said some small detail, it always generated questions and misunderstandings about what I wasn't saying in that moment. If I start talking about transition, HRT, and sex/gender science in general again, I want it to be a very complete version of my thoughts on the matter. So this is something that I want to talk about in extreme, verbose detail, and it's become a too-big megaproject of sources and scripts that I keep on subdividing to make some kind of essay or podcast. I did some work on it while in the backcountry, though, and I hope to have SOMETHING produced of it all in the next few months.

In the meantime, however, you might be interested in one of the books I read this summer: Evolution's Rainbow. It was written by a transgender ecologist, Joan Roughgarden, who was grappling with exactly what you are.

My word of warning, however, which is also stated by Roughgarden- don't fall into the naturalistic fallacy. Your existence does not need to be "validated" by what's "natural", partially because nature is so wild and varied that you will never find one constant state of nature.

My preferred approach is therefore from the genetics and molecular biology aspects which show our existence as dynamic systems that aren't defined by what's "natural" or put in place at birth. I mean, I'm studying molecular biology, so I guess it makes sense I would tackle it from that angle.

I want to talk about all of this in more depth at some point, but again, if I start down this hole on Tumblr again, I just get caught in a loop of incomplete thoughts addressing incomplete interpretations.

[rainstormcolors]

More talking about the Seto and Gozaburo dynamic because why not?

A lot of things are left vague for us in canon, but I do find myself loathing, really loathing, the idea that Seto victimized Gozaburo or rather that this was what canon intended. A ten-year-old orphan without a home or family vs an extremely wealthy middle-aged CEO -- are you kidding me who held the power here? This argument seems to lead back to "Seto cheated in the chess game" and how the manga portrays child Seto as angry and edgy instead of doe-eyed and soft. But Gozaburo is *always*, in every panel we see him in, portrayed as the one with power. When challenged to the chess game, he's smirking menacingly and laughing, and after he brings Seto into his household, we see him threatening a terrified Seto with a whip. Even when Seto claims control over Kaiba Corporation to Gozaburo, Gozaburo asserts his control over Seto and how Seto should read into this situation when Gozaburo shouts at him losers deserve to die and jumps out the window, refusing to give that power to Seto.

I don't think there's anything wrong with preferring or seeing child Seto as softer. Whether Gozaburo was intelligent or actually a dumbass who Seto could outsmart in the end can be worth discussion, and what Gozaburo's intentions and feelings towards Seto were is also worth debate and I've seen various believable ideas here and there's a lot of possibilities. How Seto himself views what happened or what he wants to believe happened or what he tries to convince himself happened is worth debate and is open to interpretation as well. But I have literally never seen a single fan believe Gozaburo was a good parent to Seto, which also really highlights how ludicrous it is to say "canon wanted us to see Gozaburo as the victim." And I find the idea that "Japanese fans don't see abuse like we do and can't recognize it" to be a really ugly can of worms, never mind that Japanese fans absolutely portray Gozaburo as abusive too.

I'm sure my own biases are at play here and that I may very well be lacking nuance in the other direction, but I think the manga was kind of clear about portraying Gozaburo as a monster parent to Seto.

[wannabehockeygf]

the city - connor dewar

"I ride the subway 'cause I look for you in every face, Don't wanna find you, though, 'Cause 8 million strangers lose their distance once you take their place, 8 million bodies and they're yours and now I'm out of space."

*** request: "hello I love ur work and idk if u still are taking Dewey requests but I was thinking of famous!reader where she's goes to a game or something but no one knows they've been dating and no one expects it since she's so comfortable in the spotlight and he's like a deer in the headlights every time he does post game interviews. And the guys tease him about how often he looks at her thru out the night until after the game she comes up to him in front of them for a post game smooch🤭" summary: in which, your boyfriend worries about being clingy all while you worry about keeping him out of the spotlight. word count: 8.2k pairing: connor dewar x fem!reader warnings: slight sexual innuendo(feeling up? idk how to describe it) but other than that nothing. notes:

this is the first ever dewey fluff i've done and that's kinda embarassing LMAO, i used to get so many smut requests for him

but he's so sweet and awkward so this feels more right

^ he would definitely have a crisis about his masculinity.

speaking of my dewey smut fics... i feel like they're so half assed and i could do so much better if someone wants to request(although tbh i prefer fluff)! i almost delete like all of them every day.

^ he's still hot as hell though.

ty for being so detailed in your request anon & thank you!

the ending is a little silly lmao but this is my hate letter to toronto media

*** He wasn’t having a good day.

He wasn’t having a good day, so he was in his head.

He was in his head, so, after practice, he went to the gas station, went inside while pumping gas to buy a red bull, and almost caused a fire. He then proceeded to crush said red bull while going fifteen over on the highway, before circling your apartment building about ten times debating to go up–what would he even say?

“Hey, babe, I kind of feel like I’m your girlfriend right now, can we talk about that?”

Connor groans, fisting his hands in his hair, tugging at the strands as if it’ll make him think more clearly. "No, fuck, that’s stupid," he mutters, catching a glimpse of himself in the side mirror, which only makes him let out an even more pained groan. "Hey, not to worry you or anything, but, do you think I’m, like, too much?"

He raises his eyebrows, nodding slightly, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he’s just found the perfect key to his problems. It’s not even really a problem; it’s the fact that he’s scared he’s being too overbearing, too worried about being seen with you even though he’s wildly in love.

It’s been a non-stop nagging thought in the back of his mind ever since the guys started teasing him about it. He thought nobody would notice, but nope. Every night, even if he knows you’re busy with your modeling—or whatever the hell you do, all he knows is that he hit the goddamn jackpot—he looks for you.

Especially on the bench, and that’s what gets him. When he stands up, crossing his heart for the National Anthem, his eyes are glued to the far corner of the arena, where he knows the VIP box suite is, and that’s when one of his linemates notices. He’s supposed to be paying his respects, goddammit, but how can he when the only person who can turn him into a soft, cuddly mess is up there?

“You’re lucky she’s a Leafs fan.”

“She’s got you whipped, dude.”

“I promise, Mrs. Dewar, she has no idea you exist. Snap out of it.”

He doesn’t feel strong enough. And even though he knows it’s the testosterone coursing through him, almost daring him to flaunt his toxic masculinity, he just wants to feel like exactly that—a man.

Connor grips the steering wheel tighter, staring blankly out the windshield, his mind running in circles again. He hasn’t even parked in a proper spot, just hovering at the curb like he might bolt at any second. The city’s waking up, early morning sun casting a lazy golden glow over everything, but Connor is buzzing—nervous energy, caffeine, and something else entirely.

His foot taps against the brake, a jittery rhythm matching the beat of his heart, which seems lodged in his throat. He glances up at your apartment building for the fifth time in as many minutes, each floor seeming more intimidating than the last. The thought of seeing you, of saying what he’s been rehearsing in his head for hours, has him spiraling.

What if you laugh? No, you’d never do that. But what if you think he’s being dramatic? Connor, dramatic? Nah. But still, maybe you won’t understand—maybe he’s being clingy. He can feel the sweat forming under his hoodie, despite the cool breeze filtering through the crack in the window. God, he’s losing it.

He rubs his palm against his gym shorts, the rough material grounding him for a second before his brain kicks back into overdrive. His teammates’ voices echo in his head again, teasing him, prodding at his insecurities like they’re poking a wound just to see him flinch. He hadn’t meant to stare at you during the game, but the moment he caught sight of your figure, tucked into the shadows of the suite, he couldn’t help it. His heart had skipped a beat, his focus had slipped, and, well, he got roasted for it.

He cringes at the memory. That’s supposed to be a good thing, right? That he can’t keep his eyes off you? But now, here he is, debating whether or not he’s being a total loser for wanting to be around you every second. Is that normal? Is it just... too much?

The little voice in his head—okay, his coach’s voice—tells him to man up, but every time he tries, it just makes him feel worse. He’s not some alpha-male, testosterone-dripping asshole who can shake this off like it’s nothing. No. He’s Connor Dewar. Insecure, maybe a little too soft for his own good, and deeply, hopelessly in love with someone who makes him feel like he’s not enough, even though you’ve never actually said anything to suggest that.

Before he knows it, he’s out of the car, the sound of the door slamming behind him barely registering. His legs move on autopilot, carrying him through the front entrance, into the elevator, and up to your floor. His stomach twists with each ding as the elevator climbs, the buzzing in his chest growing louder, almost unbearable. What is he even going to say? What if he wakes you up? It’s still so early, and you’re probably sleeping, all cozy and peaceful, totally unaware that your boyfriend is losing his mind.

The door to your apartment comes into view, and suddenly, everything feels too real. He stares at the door for a moment, his breath coming out shaky as he raises his hand to knock. Just do it, man. It’s fine. You’ve been here a million times. But today feels different. Today feels like everything he says could either solidify his worst fears or wipe them away. There’s no in-between.

He knocks, three soft raps that barely echo in the hallway, and immediately regrets it. What if you don’t hear? Or worse—what if you do? His mind races again, and before he can second-guess himself any further, the door creaks open. There you are, hair mussed from sleep, wearing that old oversized shirt of his he loves on you. You blink at him, eyes still heavy with sleep but soft, like they always are when you first wake up. It’s like looking at the sun.

"Connor? It’s… so early, what are you doing here?" Your voice is a low, sleepy murmur, and for a moment, all he can do is stare. You always look beautiful, but like this? It’s almost too much for him to handle. His heart twists again, this time with something warm, something soft, and the words he’s practiced—Hey, babe, am I being too much?—disintegrate the second he opens his mouth.

"I—I’m too clingy, aren’t I?" he blurts, the question tumbling out before he can stop it. His cheeks flush immediately, embarrassment washing over him. Great job, idiot. Not exactly the smooth, calm approach he’d envisioned.

You blink, tilting your head slightly like you’re trying to figure out if you’re dreaming. Connor groans inwardly, hands falling to his sides, fingers twitching. He’s not even sure if he wants to hear your response. Hell, he’s not even sure why he came up here so early in the first place, aside from the fact that he’s been spiraling all morning thinking about it.

he door barely clicks shut behind him, but the sound feels louder than anything he can handle right now. Connor stands awkwardly in your entryway, shifting from foot to foot, his sneakers squeaking against the hardwood like they're mocking his every move. His heart pounds, loud and relentless, almost drowning out the soft hum of your apartment—so quiet, so peaceful. Everything smells like you, warm and familiar, and somehow that makes it worse.

God, why did he say that? Of all the ways to start this conversation—Am I too clingy?—he had to go with that. His mind is already spiraling, replaying every second of the moment he blurted it out, the way your eyebrows knit together in confusion, still half-asleep, your hair a mess, and your body wrapped in that oversized shirt he loves. It’s unfair how effortlessly beautiful you are, even at eight in the morning.

You blink at him again, slower this time, your lips twitching like you're trying to suppress a smile. "Connor, it’s—what, eight in the morning? Why are you here talking about… clinginess?" There’s a soft chuckle in your voice, and he winces. Not because you’re making fun of him, but because he’s making fun of himself in his head, and now you're awake, and this is real.

He opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Great. Now he can’t even speak. His tongue feels too thick in his mouth, and his throat is dry, probably from that Red Bull he downed like his life depended on it. His fingers flex at his sides, the faint smell of gasoline still clinging to his skin. He hadn’t even washed his hands after almost blowing up the gas station. Awesome.

Connor rubs the back of his neck, suddenly hyper-aware of how sweaty he feels. “Yeah, um, I don’t—shit, I don’t know. I just—” He trails off, eyes darting around your apartment like maybe the right words are hiding somewhere in a corner. The soft morning light spills through the windows, casting golden streaks across your couch, your coffee table, your bookshelf—everything that screams you. It’s so you in here, and that just makes him feel like an intruder.

You step closer, arms crossing loosely over your chest, and the sight of you makes his heart skip a beat. You’re not even fully awake, and yet there you are, standing in front of him, looking at him like he’s the most confusing but endearing thing in the world. He swallows hard, trying to gather his thoughts, but they scatter like leaves in the wind the moment you tilt your head, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

“Did something happen?” you ask softly, and there it is—that voice. The one that always makes his insides twist in that stupidly vulnerable way, the one that makes him feel like he could tell you anything, even though his brain is screaming at him to keep his insecurities locked up tight.

Connor exhales, his shoulders sagging. "I just… I don’t know. I feel like…" He trails off again, his eyes flicking to the floor, tracing the grain of the wood beneath his sneakers. He wants to say it. He wants to tell you everything—how the guys have been teasing him, how he can’t stop staring at you during games, how he feels like a lovesick puppy every time you so much as look at him. But that all sounds so pathetic in his head.

Instead, he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands until they stand up in all directions. "The guys… they’ve been saying stuff. You know, about… how I look at you." The words feel heavy, clumsy, like they don’t quite fit together the way he wants them to. His voice cracks slightly, and he winces at the sound of it.

You raise an eyebrow, taking another step closer, your bare feet barely making a sound against the floor. “What kind of stuff?” you ask, still half-smiling, like you can’t quite believe this is a conversation you’re having before your morning coffee.

Connor’s face flushes. This is even worse than he thought. Why did he have to say anything at all? Why can’t he just be normal, like a normal boyfriend who doesn’t freak out about stuff like this? His teammates’ voices echo in his head again, louder this time, teasing him, making fun of him for staring at you during the game, like he’s some lovestruck idiot.

“They—uh, they think I’m, like… whipped. You know?” He forces a laugh, but it comes out strained, like he’s choking on the words. “Like, they’re always making jokes about how I can’t stop looking at you when I should be paying attention to the game. And, even though they don’t know about us, I don’t know… it just… it got to me. You know?”

There. He says it. Sort of. He risks a glance at you, half-expecting you to burst out laughing or roll your eyes or something, but instead, you just stand there, looking at him with those soft, sleepy eyes, your head slightly tilted like you’re trying to figure him out.

“I mean, it’s dumb, right?” he blurts, his words spilling out too fast, like he’s trying to outrun his own thoughts. “It’s not like I don’t care about the game—of course I care about the game! I just… I can’t help it when I see you up there. I get distracted, I guess. But, like, they’re giving me shit for it. And I don’t know, maybe they’re right? Maybe I’m too… attached or something. Maybe I’m too clingy.”

The word hangs in the air again, making him cringe. Clingy. He hates the sound of it, like it’s this ugly thing that has attached itself to him and now won’t let go. He runs a hand over his face, trying to rub away the embarrassment, but all he can feel is the warmth of your apartment, the smell of you wrapping around him like a safety net he doesn’t deserve.

His mind starts spiraling again, dragging him down into that familiar pit of insecurity. Was it normal to be this caught up in someone? Sure, he loves you—really loves you—but maybe the guys are right. Maybe he’s acting like your personal bodyguard or something, hovering too much. And then there’s that other thing—the one he tries not to think about too much, but it keeps sneaking up on him, especially when you wear those heels, the ones that make you look even taller than usual.

Connor’s eyes dart to the floor, catching a glimpse of your bare feet. He can’t stop himself from doing the math in his head: barefoot, you’re still only a couple of inches shorter than him. When you put on heels? He swallows hard, a knot forming in his throat. You’re not just beautiful—you’re tall, and tall in a way that makes him feel like he isn’t, well, enough. Not that you’ve ever made a big deal out of it, but in the back of his mind, it gnaws at him.

“I’m, uh…” he starts, his voice trailing off as he tries to find the right way to say it. How am I supposed to tell her I feel weird about not being tall enough for my model girlfriend? His cheeks burn with embarrassment again, and he can feel himself sweating even more, like all his dumb insecurities are trying to crawl their way out of his skin.

“You’re just… you’re so…” He gestures vaguely at you, his hand flailing like it can explain the mess of thoughts in his head. “You know. You. And I’m just… me. I’m not even that tall, and I know that’s dumb, but it’s been in my head ever since you wore those heels to that restaurant and suddenly we were the same height, and… I don’t know. I just feel like…” He groans, tugging at his hair again. “I feel like a fucking idiot.”

The words tumble out before he can stop them, and now they’re out there, hanging between you both like some kind of confession. His heart pounds so hard he swears you can hear it. Why did he even bring this up? You’ve never mentioned it, never teased him about his height, but now he’s the one spiraling over it. He stares down at his sneakers, the scuffed rubber soles suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

He’s a mess. How is he supposed to be your boyfriend—the guy who’s supposed to have it together—when all he can think about is how ridiculous he must look next to you? You’re this confident, glamorous model, and he’s just some hockey player who can’t stop staring at you from the bench. Maybe he’s being clingy. Maybe he’s too much.

You take another step forward, which seems to stop his ranting. You're close enough now that he can smell the faint traces of whatever shampoo you use, something warm and sweet and unmistakably you. Your hand reaches out, brushing lightly against his arm, and he feels his entire body tense up at the contact.

“Connor,” you say softly, your voice a gentle lull that immediately makes his heartbeat slow, just a little. “You’re not too clingy.” Your lips quirk up in that way they always do when you’re trying to hide a smile, like you think he’s the most ridiculous, lovable thing in the world. “You’re just… in love. That’s all.”

He blinks, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut, but in the best possible way. In love. Of course he is. He knows that. But hearing you say it, so simply, like it isn’t something he needs to overthink or worry about, makes him feel like the ground has finally stopped shifting beneath his feet.

You step even closer, your hand sliding down to take his, your fingers cool against his sweaty palm. “And for the record,” you add, your voice dropping to a playful whisper, “I think it’s kind of cute that you can’t keep your eyes off me during the game.”

Connor’s mouth twitches into a shaky grin, a rush of warmth spreading through his chest. “Yeah?”

You nod, giving his hand a little squeeze. “Yeah. I mean, you could try to focus a bit more, but... I like knowing you’re thinking about me.”

His heart feels like it’s swelling, and suddenly, all the noise in his head quiets. You’re not laughing at him, you’re not rolling your eyes, you’re not even upset that he’s so wrapped up in his feelings. If anything, you seem to understand, like it isn’t the giant problem he’s been building it up to be.

“Okay,” he breathes, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Okay, yeah… I just didn’t want to, you know, be too much.”

You shake your head, tugging him gently toward the couch. “You’re never too much, Connor.” You plop down, patting the cushion beside you.

Connor flops down beside you with a soft grunt, his large frame taking up most of the space. He shifts awkwardly for a second, trying to find a spot that doesn’t feel too close, but also close enough that he can breathe in that familiar, comforting scent of you. There’s something so grounding about it — like he can finally shut off the part of his brain that’s constantly screaming at him to be perfect. His breath catches in his throat when you reach up to trace your fingers lightly along the hem of his hoodie, and he swears his heart just stops altogether.

“Relax,” you whisper, your voice low and sweet, the kind that always makes his pulse pick up. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He blinks at you, his mouth dry as you lift the hem of his hoodie, slipping your hand under the fabric. Your fingers are cool against his skin, the touch sending a shiver up his spine that makes it hard to breathe. He isn’t sure if it’s the warmth of your hand or the way your fingers spread out across his abs, but holy, it’s doing something to him.

“See?” you murmur, your voice teasing as your hand trails up, brushing over the slight ridges of muscle. “I’d say you’re plenty manly.”

His cheeks burn, his heart doing a quick stutter-step in his chest. “You—” He coughs, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. “You think so?”

You nod, your thumb brushing over his ribs, and he swears he feels a flicker of heat right there, just beneath your touch. It’s almost ridiculous how much one little movement can send his mind spiraling, but it does. His breath catches again, this time somewhere in the back of his throat, and he has to fight the sudden urge to pull you even closer, to kiss you until his thoughts finally stop their endless loop of doubt.

You smirk, your hand sliding back down, grazing over his abs again, your nails scraping lightly in a way that makes his skin prickle. “Mhm. And you know, you’re pretty hot too. Just in case you were wondering.”

“You’re just saying that,” he mumbles, trying to sound playful, but his voice wobbles slightly. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, but the way your fingers tease along his skin has him feeling dizzy, like he’s already halfway to losing himself in you. He can’t help but feel every brush of your thumb, every inch it travels over his stomach, like a wildfire burning under his skin.

You just smile, leaning in a bit closer, your breath warm against his ear. “Trust me, baby. I don’t need to say anything I don’t mean.”

His face burns at the simple words, the sincerity laced in your tone. The tips of his ears probably match the red of his hoodie by now. His brain feels scrambled, a weird mix of giddy and hot, as if all his nerves have decided to flip on at once. He wants to believe you—no, he does believe you—but there’s this nagging voice in the back of his head, the one that whispers maybe he isn’t quite enough.

But then, your hand shifts just slightly, your palm spreading wider across his chest like you’re staking a claim, and that flicker of doubt disappears. You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you? Teasing him, proving your point in the most devastating way possible. And God, is it working. His heart is thudding, heat pooling in his stomach as your fingers trace a line up his ribs, sending a shiver that he can’t suppress.

“You’re… you’re sure about that?” His voice comes out hoarse, not nearly as casual as he’d hoped.

You smile softly, your thumb brushing over the faint ridges of muscle just under his skin. “Mhm. I’d say you’re more than manly enough.” Your fingers slide up a little higher, grazing his side in a way that makes his breath hitch. “Honestly, these abs are kind of unfair.”

Connor lets out a shaky laugh, but the way his body is reacting makes him feel anything but in control. The fact that you can do this to him with just a few words and a touch is almost terrifying. He groans, tipping his head back against the couch, his hand shooting up to grab your wrist—not to stop you, but just to ground himself, to hold onto something that isn’t his spiraling thoughts. His mind scrambles, trying to find something to say, but all he can focus on is how warm your hand feels, how close you are, and how easy it would be to just pull you on top of him right there on the couch.

“You’re killing me,” he mumbles, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to breathe through the haze of heat building between you. “You know that, right?”

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you hum, your lips brushing against the side of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. “You seem to be doing just fine.”

“Fine?” His voice cracks as you slide your hand back down, your fingers ghosting over his abs again, slow and deliberate, and all he can do is breathe through it. “I’m—” He cuts himself off, unable to form a coherent thought as you continue your little exploration. Jesus, is he about to beg? Is that where this is headed? He might actually be on the verge of begging.

The silence stretches, filled only by the sound of your breathing and his desperate attempts to keep it together. But it’s not working. Every touch, every brush of your hand has him unraveling, and when your fingers dip just under the waistband of his shorts, Connor lets out a small, pathetic whimper, something he immediately regrets but can’t stop. He’s falling apart. Completely. And you know it.

You let your fingers wander back up, tracing the faint ridges of his abs, feeling the slight tremor in his muscles. It’s so easy to mess with him, to push him just to the edge, and you’re enjoying every second of it. The control, the way his breath hitches every time you move, how his eyes flutter shut as if that will somehow help him focus. But there’s no way he can focus—not when you’re here, teasing him like this.

And God, you love the way he looks right now. All disheveled and flushed, like he’s caught somewhere between embarrassment and desire. His hoodie is bunched up under your hand, exposing just a sliver of his toned stomach, and it’s almost criminal how much you want to touch more, to tease more, just to see him unravel completely.

“Look at you,” you tease softly, brushing your thumb just under his ribs, feeling the way his breath hitches. “You’re so worked up over a little teasing.”

His laugh comes out strangled, more of a breath than a sound, and his cheeks flush deeper, the red creeping up to his ears. “You’re… you’re evil,” he rasps, his voice barely audible as he tilts his head to the side, exposing more of his neck to you without even realizing it. “Do you even know what you’re doing right now?”

You raise a brow, letting your lips hover near his throat, not quite touching but close enough that he can feel the warmth of your breath. “Mhm,” you hum softly, dragging your hand slowly down his stomach again. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

And that’s when you feel it—the subtle shift, the way his body tenses even more, the way his breathing grows more labored, like he’s holding on for dear life. His hand tightens around your wrist, his other arm moving to rest on the back of the couch as if he needs the extra support.

You know you have him. He’s yours.

But just as you’re about to push him even further, to see how far you can take this, Connor’s voice breaks the spell. “Are you—” His voice cracks slightly, and he swallows hard, trying to find his words. “Are you coming to my game tonight?”

You hesitate, your fingers freezing for just a moment against his chest. You’ve been hoping he wouldn’t ask, but now that the question is out there, you can’t avoid it. Taking a deep breath, you look up at him, meeting his curious gaze with a soft, apologetic smile. “Actually… my agent doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

Connor blinks, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What? Why not?”

You bite your lip, your heart pounding as you brace yourself for his reaction. “Because people are starting to catch on. I, uh… I might’ve posted something on Instagram that’s making people suspicious.”

“...What did you post?”

You bite your lip again, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you struggle to explain. His body is still tense beside you, his hoodie still bunched up, his skin flushed from everything that’s just happened, and it makes this moment feel all the more precarious. “For our anniversary,” you start, your voice faltering slightly as you try to explain. “It was faceless! I made sure you weren’t in it… well, not fully.”

The look on his face tells you everything you need to know. His confusion hasn’t lessened at all, and now there’s a flicker of something else—worry, maybe? “Not fully?” he repeats, his voice soft, like he’s not sure if he should be alarmed or not.

“Okay, so maybe there’s… something.” You wince at your own words because you know how it sounds, and you know exactly how the internet works. One small detail, one little hint, and fans will be all over it, dissecting every pixel of the photo, theorizing, speculating. You can already imagine the threads on Twitter, the conspiracy theories on Reddit, people zooming in on the tiniest reflection in the background to try and prove something.

It had seemed innocent enough at the time—a shot of the two of you from behind, your head tilted slightly to hide your face, his body next to yours, faceless but recognizable to anyone who pays enough attention. And in the background, just barely visible, is the faint reflection of something unmistakably his—a Leafs logo, half-obscured but still there, like a breadcrumb trail waiting to be discovered.

“It’s nothing super obvious,” you start again, trying to sound reassuring even though you know how sharp his teammates are, how fans can latch onto the smallest detail. “Just… something in the background. A little reflection, maybe.”

Connor’s eyes search yours, that hint of worry deepening into something more serious. His grip on your wrist tightens again, not in frustration but as if he needs to hold onto something solid. “What kind of reflection?”

There’s a beat of silence where the tension thickens, pressing down on you both. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head, can almost see him picturing the post in his mind without even having seen it yet.

“Well,” you start slowly, your voice quiet and hesitant, “it might’ve been… your practice bag? In the background. But it’s super faint! Like, barely visible unless you’re really looking.”

His face pales a little, and you watch him process the potential fallout. It’s like you can feel the gears shifting in his mind, each little piece of information clicking into place. His mouth opens slightly, but no words come out at first—just a soft, almost incredulous exhale.

“You mean the one with the Leafs logo and my number on it like, a million times?” His voice cracks slightly, and you can see him fighting to keep his cool, even though his brain is probably already racing through every possible outcome. “Do you—do you have the post? Can I see it?”

You hesitate, your fingers still resting lightly on his stomach, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the growing unease between you. He looks so vulnerable like this, lying back with his hoodie bunched up, cheeks flushed from the teasing, but now there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes—something closer to panic.

With a slow nod, you reach for your phone, handing it to him with shaky fingers. "I didn't think it would be that big of a deal," you murmur, but as you unlock the screen and hand him the device, you can’t help the growing knot in your stomach. What started as an innocent post is about to become much more complicated.

You watch Connor’s expression shift as he stares at your phone, his thumb scrolling slowly through the post. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut, but you can’t look away from his face—his brows furrowing deeper with every passing second, his lips parting as though he wants to say something, yet can’t find the words. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, every muscle in his body tightening as the weight of the situation settles over him.

His silence stretches on, the sound of his breath—still shaky from your earlier exploration—filling the small space between you. Moments ago, you had him on the verge of completely losing control, but now the dynamic has shifted entirely, and it’s your turn to feel that flutter of uncertainty gnawing at your insides.

“Baby…” you begin softly, your voice barely more than a whisper as you shift beside him, your hand still resting against his warm skin. But he doesn’t respond right away, his eyes still fixed on the post, his face a mixture of disbelief and concern.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks—his voice low, almost incredulous. “You posted this… for our anniversary?”

The way he says it makes your stomach drop. There isn’t anger in his tone, not exactly, but there’s something else—something that makes you feel like you’ve made a terrible mistake. You nod, chewing on your lip, your eyes scanning his face for any hint of reassurance, but all you see is the worry creasing his features deeper.

“I thought it was sweet,” you try, your voice trembling just a bit. “It was supposed to be… you know, low-key. Nothing obvious.”

“Low-key?” He blinks, his thumb hovering over the faint reflection in the background, the bag barely visible but unmistakable once you know what to look for. “Anyone who knows me—or follows hockey—could figure this out in two seconds. I mean, look at that.” His voice cracks on the last word, and he looks up at you, his expression a mix of disbelief and… something else. Something that almost looks like fear.

Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. You didn’t mean for any of this to happen—for things to spiral like this. It was supposed to be a quiet, intimate moment between the two of you, something only you and he would understand, like a shared secret between lovers. But now, the reality of it all is crashing down around you.

“I didn’t think anyone would notice!” you blurt out, suddenly defensive as you sit up straighter. “It’s just a tiny detail! I mean, who zooms in that much on an Instagram post?”

“But they will.” His voice is quiet again, softer this time, but filled with that same underlying worry that makes your chest tighten. “You know how people are. They’ll pick this apart until there’s nothing left. And then… what?”

His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of their implications. You can feel the gravity of the situation pulling at you, dragging you down into a pit of guilt and uncertainty. But more than that, you can feel the shift in him—the way he seems to retreat into himself, his usual easygoing confidence replaced by something far more vulnerable.

And that vulnerability only makes your heart ache more.

He’s not angry—not at you, at least. No, this is something deeper. This is fear. Fear of losing the carefully constructed privacy you’ve both fought so hard to maintain, fear of what might happen if the world finds out about your relationship, fear of how it would change things between you. And that fear is written all over his face, etched into every line of his body as he sits there, staring at the screen in his hands like it’s a ticking time bomb.

You swallow hard, reaching out to brush your fingers against his arm, feeling the tension beneath his skin. “Connor… I’m sorry. I didn’t think it through.”

He lets out a shaky breath, his hand falling away from the phone as he leans back against the couch, his head tilting back to rest against the cushions. His eyes flutter shut for a moment, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you see him let go—just a little. The worry is still there, simmering beneath the surface, but for now, he’s trying to let it go.

“I know you didn’t mean to,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper as he opens his eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. “I just… This is why I don’t use social media. People are fucking insane. I don’t know what’s gonna happen now.”

You shift closer, leaning into him, resting your head against his shoulder as your fingers trace gentle circles along his arm. His skin is still impossibly warm, and yet now, all you can focus on is the quiet rise and fall of his chest, the steady rhythm of his breath as he tries to calm himself down.

“I’ll fix it,” you promise, your voice soft and earnest as you press a kiss to his shoulder. “I’ll take it down, and we’ll be more careful. It’ll be okay, I swear.”

He lets out a soft laugh—a humorless, breathy sound that makes your heart ache even more. “You think that’ll be enough?”

You don’t answer right away, because honestly, you’re not sure. The internet is a beast, one that can’t be easily tamed once it latches onto something. And if anyone has already seen the post and started piecing things together, it’s only a matter of time before the whispers turn into something louder, something you can’t control.

But still, you have to try.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” you say quietly, your voice filled with determination. “I won’t let anyone ruin this for us.” ***

You find yourself at Scotiabank Arena, despite everything. It wasn’t planned, and you certainly hadn’t told Connor you were coming—not after the earlier conversation that left you both teetering on the edge of something precarious. But there’s something about him, the way his voice cracks with worry, the tension in his jaw as he tries to hide how much it all matters to him, that makes it impossible for you to stay away.

You've spent hours trying to distract yourself, flipping through work emails, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, even considering posting a selfie—one that has absolutely nothing to do with hockey, Connor, or the tangled mess your lives have become. But none of it works. The pull toward him, toward the place he is, is too strong.

So here you are, in the dimly lit VIP box, hidden away from the bustling crowd below, your heart pounding as the game unfolds in front of you. You’ve dressed down, keeping it simple and low-key, with a hoodie thrown over your shoulders, the hood pulled low to cover most of your face. It’s strange—being here and not being here all at once, as if you’re an outsider watching from a distance, too close to touch but too far to be seen.

The arena buzzes with energy, a palpable hum that vibrates in your chest, matching the erratic beat of your heart. The air is thick with the sharp scent of ice and sweat, the echoing sounds of blades slicing across the rink, and the deep, reverberating roars of the crowd as they cheer for their team. It’s all-consuming, the kind of environment that makes it impossible to think straight, but all you can focus on is him.

Your eyes find him immediately—Connor, number 24, skating across the ice like he owns it, his movements smooth and calculated, every shift of his body a display of raw power and precision. It’s mesmerizing, watching him like this, and for a moment, you forget why you’re hiding, why you’re holding your breath every time someone glances in your direction.

He’s so focused, so in his element, but you catch it—those subtle glances toward the stands, the way his eyes dart up, scanning the rows as if he’s looking for something… or someone. The realization hits you like a punch to the gut: He’s looking for you.

You sink deeper into your seat, pulling your hood further down over your face, your stomach twisting in knots. He doesn’t know you’re here, and maybe it’s better that way. If he knew, if he saw you, it might make things worse. You hadn’t exactly parted on the best note earlier, with him still reeling from the Instagram mishap, his worry about the public scrutiny, and the weight of maintaining your secrecy.

But God, it’s hard to stay hidden when all you want to do is run down there and throw yourself into his arms.

Your fingers twitch in your lap, itching to do something—anything—but all you can do is sit there, watching him like some kind of lovesick teenager, your heart in your throat as he skates with that same intensity you’ve always admired. There’s something different about him tonight, though. Something heavier in his movements, like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He looks good, though. Really good. The way his muscles ripple beneath his jersey, the way the lights catch the sweat on his skin, the determined set of his jaw as he focuses on the game. And then there’s his hair, damp from the effort, sticking out in messy, endearing tufts from under his helmet.

You bite your lip, unable to tear your gaze away, and a small, traitorous thought slips into your mind: He’s so damn clingy, and yet you love it. You love the way he’s always checking in, the way he wants you to be part of everything, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. Maybe you should be annoyed, maybe you should feel suffocated, but instead, it makes your chest swell with something warm and overwhelming.

You pull your phone from your pocket, the screen lighting up in the dimness of the box, casting a soft glow across your face. Your fingers hover over the Instagram icon for a moment, hesitation gnawing at you. Posting something was what started this whole mess. Maybe you should lay low, let things cool down, but…

You glance at the ice again, your gaze locking onto Connor’s form. He’s in the middle of a play, skating fast, his stick slicing through the air as he chases after the puck, but every now and then, you swear you see his head tilt up, scanning the crowd again.

He’s looking for you.

Your heart clenches, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you snap a quick picture of the rink for your story—just the ice, nothing that could give away your exact location. No reflections, no telltale signs, just a simple shot of the game. You add a heart emoji to the caption, vague enough to mean anything, but you know he’ll understand.

You hit post and slide your phone back into your pocket, leaning forward in your seat as the game picks up in intensity. The crowd roars as the puck flies across the rink, players clashing in a chaotic dance of speed and strength. Connor’s in the thick of it, his focus unwavering, but there’s still that occasional glance toward the stands, that flicker of something in his eyes that tells you he’s still thinking about you.

The game drags on, each passing second a fresh assault on your nerves. Overtime looms, and the tension in the arena thickens, wrapping around you like a vice. You can feel it in your bones—this is going to be one of those moments. The kind of moment that’ll be replayed a thousand times on every sports network, the kind that’ll haunt you in the quiet hours when you’re alone with your thoughts.

And then it happens.

It’s like a flash of lightning. Connor, barreling down the rink with a speed and grace that takes your breath away. The puck dances between his stick and the ice, a blur of black and white, and suddenly he’s in front of the goal. Time slows. Your heart slams against your ribs as you lean forward, not even realizing you’ve stopped breathing. The crowd holds its collective breath, and then it’s over. The puck finds the back of the net with a resounding crack that echoes through the entire arena.

The place explodes. The deafening roar shakes the very foundations of the building, and you swear you can feel the vibration under your feet. He did it. Connor fucking did it.

You can’t help it—your body moves on its own, rising from the seat as your hands clap together, heart swelling with pride and something else, something deeper. The grin on your face is unstoppable, and you know your fingers are itching to send him a text, something cheeky and teasing about his performance for him to read later, but there’s no need. He’s already looking up at the stands again, that same searching glance, like he knows you’re here.

He skates over to his teammates, practically drowning in their celebratory shoves and slaps on the back, but there’s something in his eyes, a flicker of longing, as though he wishes he could be anywhere but there, anywhere but under the bright, burning lights. You know him too well. He hates this part—the interviews, the cameras. He’s like a deer in headlights when he’s in front of them, so unlike you, who thrives under that very same spotlight. The thought makes you chuckle under your breath.

Without really thinking, you pull your hoodie tighter around your face and slip through the back of the box, your mind spinning with a new plan. You know exactly how to get into that press area. Being a world-famous model has its perks, after all.

The energy of the postgame is chaotic, the air buzzing with a strange mix of triumph and exhaustion that clings to every corner of the arena. You thread your way through security and the press with a confidence that comes from years of walking down runways and posing for flashing cameras. Your heart, however, is racing for an entirely different reason now.

Connor is there, caught in the glaring lights of the press area, his posture stiff, shoulders squared but tense, and that telltale fidget of his fingers at his sides. He hates this. You know he does, and watching him stumble through the interviews, awkward and clearly uncomfortable, tugs at your heart in the most bittersweet way. There’s something so endearing about the way he handles the attention—on the ice, he’s this untouchable force of nature, but off it, he’s like a fish out of water, out of his element.

The cameras are all around him, flashing and clicking, microphones thrust into his face, and he’s trying so hard to keep it together, but you can see it—the slight widening of his eyes, the way his jaw tightens as he stumbles over his words, a nervous laugh escaping him as he answers a question about the overtime goal. Your chest swells with a mixture of pride and amusement. He’s so bad at this, but that’s what makes him yours, the part of him that only you seem to understand.

You glance at him again, just for a second, and something inside you shifts. He looks so damn good, even under all this scrutiny. His hair is damp, sticking out in wild tufts from the post-shower mess, his face still flushed from the game, with that fine sheen of sweat on his neck, the sharp angles of his jawline more prominent in the harsh lighting. His compression shirt clings to every muscle, the fabric stretched tight over his chest, showing off the powerful build that still makes your breath hitch every time you see him.

God, you’re in deep, aren’t you?

Your thoughts are spiraling, tumbling one after another in a rush, but there’s one thing that stands out more than anything: you can’t keep watching him like this. You can’t stand by and let him feel this out of place, not when you’re right there, not when you could help.

Before you know it, your legs are moving on their own. You slip past the last barrier of security with a nod that’s far too casual for someone about to blow their secret relationship wide open, and within seconds, you’re right there, right in front of him. The look on his face when he sees you is priceless—his eyes widen, his lips part slightly, and for a moment, it’s like the rest of the world falls away.

And then, before he can say a word, you grab him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss that’s anything but discreet. The press area falls deathly silent for a split second, and then, as if on cue, the cameras start flashing, capturing the moment in all its glory.

You pull back, just enough to meet his gaze, your lips still tingling from the kiss. His eyes are wide, his face flushed, but there’s that familiar softness there too, that look that tells you he’d follow you anywhere, even into the spotlight he hates so much.

His lips part for a moment, as if he’s going to say something, but then he turns his head right, then left, taking in all of his teammates’ gaping jaws, and you think he’s coming up with something good. But then, he does something you could never envision him doing. He snakes one of his arms around your waist, pulling you into him almost forcefully, and looks directly into the camera.

He lets out a single, incredulous laugh before pointing at it, “You guys can all suck it.”

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Get to Know Me Tag :)

I was tagged by @telomeke and @hughungrybear. Thanks for tagging me!

do you make your bed?

It depends... I live in the part of the world where it's usual to have a duvet in a duvet cover and a sheet covering the mattress, and I have a duvet twice the width of my bed so it usually doesn't get rucked up during the night, so when I get up I fold over the top third of the duvet to air out the mattress/sheet. If it's a work day, it will stay like this until I get home, then I will usually pull the duvet back over the bed. If it's a weekend, I might make the bed again midday. I like it when my bed looks made.

what's your favourite number?

I'm not sure why but I like the number 7, and then also the numbers 4 and 3 because they make up 7. I've never really considered numbers beyond single digits to be 'favourites'. But if I did it would be my birthday day. Oh and I don't really use favourite numbers as important passwords or pins or the such...jsyk.

what is your job?

The work I do is quite niche, so I never really want to say too much because I'm pretty discoverable online with a few key words...but then sometimes I really want y'all to know what I do because it's unusual (and, I think, quite cool!)...but without revealing too much I work in the arts sector - specifically dance.

if you could go back to school, would you?

School, as in aged 11-16? Absolutely the hell no. But school as in higher education, degrees, masters, or smaller qualifications for my general interests? Well, I sort of did a few years ago (*she looks at the calendar and realises it's more than 'a few'*). I did a Creative Writing Masters over 2019-2020, which was GREAT to do but sort of killed my spirit and drive to be a writer...but whatever, I can always pick it back up again in the future if it returns. I also went to classes to learn Swedish when I lived in Sweden and I'm going to a different language class now one evening a week. I enjoy studying...but I get too focused on getting good grades.

can you parallel park?

Yes but I only do it when the space is big enough for me to confidently do it (especially with all these sensors beeping nowadays) and usually only on the side of the road opposite to the steering wheel (I can drive on both sides of the road).

a job you had that would surprise people?

I think my whole career is probably surprising to people but in the sense that I think people are mostly confused because they don't really understand what I really do on a day to day basis.

do you think aliens are real?

I think it would be incredible if in this whole universe we are the only planet who has developed 'life'. Aliens don't necessarily have to be intelligent life like us (and that's debatable sometimes!), so yes, I think somewhere in this universe there is another planet which has the conditions for some form of life, whether we could survive there or not.

can you drive a manual car?

Yes, I learnt on one and have managed to adapt to both right-hand and left-hand gear sticks, although I'm still a little 'fumbly' with the right-hand gear stick. I prefer automatics when in a traffic jam but otherwise I'm happy to drive whichever. Sometimes it's good to have something to focus on when driving, so a manual is good. The problem happens if I've used different hire cars in a short period of time (which I need to do sometimes with work) and when I forget I'm in a manual and brake coming up to to a junction and just...stall because I forget to change down gears 😂

what's your guilty pleasure?

If a guilty pleasure is something I'd feel shy or embarrassed admitting or talking to others about...then it would probably be watching ql or reading fanfic 😂 Other than that I'm not sure I have anything...I enjoy what I enjoy and don't feel guilt over it.

tattoos?

No but I've always thought about getting one but I think the thought of the work I'd have to do to find someone I would really trust to permanently mark my skin means I've just never done it. But I would like some kind of minimalist abstract colour art that starts on my shoulder and trails down my arm. Maybe. I've never been able to find exactly what I'm imagining, which is also why I've never pursued it.

favorite color?

I think I'm in my blue stage in my life, looking at the majority of colours surrounding me, but I also like pops of red.

favorite type of music?

The music playlists I listen to most are 1) OSTs and similar style songs from all the qls I've watched over the past 3 years 2) the instrumental background music from all the qls I've watched and 3) Swedish pop (to keep the language fresh in my brain). I do like all kinds of music - just NOT drum and bass - anything can work for me in the right mood.

do you like puzzles?

Yes, although I don't often do them. I enjoy the 'escape room' type Exit games as well as sudoku, and for a few months several years ago I really got into hanjie puzzles.

any phobias?

I'm not sure if this is a phobia or not but I absolutely CANNOT deal with cotton wool. Just thinking about pulling it apart makes me want to crawl out of my skin and lay down in a bath of acid just to get away from it let alone actually TOUCHING it and pulling it apart 🤢🤮 The cotton wool pads are ok because they have smooth sides and I don't...pull 🤮 them 🤮 apart 🤮. Ok, I gotta stop talking about this now, I'm squirming in my seat.

favorite childhood sport?

I did gymnastics as a child, from about aged 8 to 13, but I don't know if that counts as a 'sport', although I did compete. I didn't really enjoy most ball sports as a kid.

do you talk to yourself?

ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME. I talk to myself in my head. I talk to myself out loud. Sometimes, if I'm talking to myself aloud about something important and then do something that means I can't continue (cleaning my teeth, drinking/eating etc) then for some reason I can't continue in my head. I have to wait until I'm finished to then talk out loud again. But I also talk to myself aloud when I'm out 😬 but I do it quietly and without moving my mouth too much so people don't notice. I was in a shop recently and a gentleman was talking to himself out loud (commenting on the offering of tea towels ikea had and wondering whether to buy any) - loud enough that I thought that he was actually talking to someone else but he wasn't - and I felt like I had a glimpse of my future if I wasn't careful 😂

what movies do you adore?

I don't watch a lot of movies nowadays - the last I saw was Barbie. But the one that has stayed with me as a favourite since I first saw it is Some Kind of Wonderful. And I love The Holiday as a Christmas movie (although I haven't watched it for ages). Oh and it's not a movie, so maybe doesn't count, but the BBC's adaptation of Pride and Prejudice has my whole heart.

coffee or tea?

I'm definitely a tea drinker (approx 3 cups of black Earl Grey plus one or two herbal teas every day) but sometimes I'll crave a coffee...but then I'll have decaf. I'll crave it because I think the milkiness of it (oat milk though) makes it feel like a comfort drink, and I like a small shot of gingerbread syrup in it too.

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

I remember things like 'lawyer', 'journalist', and 'doctor' were common aspirations when I was a kid which I also contemplated but when I decided I wanted to be a dancer at aged 13 that was it for me. My 'back-up' career plan was some kind of palaeontology or archaeology ("you get an -ology you're a scientist!" 😂) but I never needed to pursue that.

Onward tagging: I'm not sure by now who has done this or not, so I'll tag some people and if you have done it then tag me in your post so I can read it! @grapejuicegay @dimplesandfierceeyes @casualavocados @ranchthoughts @jourquet @lollygirlpops @airenyah @incandescentflower and @linosaur

Like @telomeke, I also get tagged now and then by others in various tag games but then get too busy with work to be able to do them. So if you've tagged me and I've not responded, please know that I really wanted to but I just didn't have the time and then probably forgot.