#and i repeat the same to you– you can also talk to me if you feel like it. i'm here to offer support too

[demonic0angel]

a mermaid anger management idea:

"Damian's orca is back," Jason deadpanned, looking at the black face in the water. The orca didn't really belong to Damian, but the boy had befriended it by feeding the thing fillets of fish before the sinking of their boat.

Jason tuned out Bruce's refusal for any more pets as the orca noseyed its way over to Damian's raft.

"Shadow," a voice whispered called from the water, sending the bats into high alert. The orca chirped in response and turned to look at whoever called him.

Jason followed its line of sight and spotted a flash of red moving in the water, "I think he brought a friend."

(A tear fell down my face when I saw this ask. I LOVE it when I can tell that people look at the stuff that I post. It got long bc I got so excited lmaoo)

Damian gasped. "Is that your name? Shadow?"

The newly named Shadow gave a soft cry. Then it turned and began to leave. Damian nearly fell out of the raft to follow it, which caused Jason to grab him by the waist before he could leave.

Shadow paused and then turned to look at him. Damian gave a grunt, elbowing Jason in the gut, before beckoning Shadow closer. "C'mere! It's okay, we won't hurt you. You can bring your friend too."

"Damian," Bruce groaned. Jason couldn't help but snicker at the exhaustion in his voice.

Shadow trilled and then swam closer again, allowing Jason to let go of Damian, who happily stroked the orca's snout and fed him more fish.

The red blur came moving back and then stopped underneath the raft. Jason stared at it, tilting his head thoughtfully before he said, "Hey, you can come up too if you'd like. We don't hunt anything but fish."

The red blob in the water seemed to have heard him, but didn't react. It wasn't until Damian repeated the same thing that it finally moved and swam up, breaking the surface of the water with a splash to drape itself over Shadow's back.

"Shadow, I told you to come," a sweet voice said and Jason's eyes widened at the large female Mer that was now gazing at them all with sharp turquoise eyes.

Shadow chirped, but everyone (but Damian, that crazy brat) flinched backwards and clapped their hands over their ears.

Mer were beautiful, humanoid creatures with beautiful singing voices that often lured humans to death. They were different from sirens, whose favorite food were humans, but they were no less dangerous when provoked.

This Mer looked large and long, with pale skin hidden under wet layers of crimson hair and a bright, turquoise tail. She stared at Jason blankly before looking at Damian.

"Little one, are you feeding Shadow?"

Bruce lunged forward to grab Damian, who was still at the edge of the raft, but Damian answered before anyone could stop him.

"Yes. They're really cute," Damian praised, rubbing at Shadow's nose again. "Would you also like some?"

The Mer blinked her wet eyes at him and then beamed. "Thank you." Damian fed her a sliver of fish and Jason nearly bashed his head over the raft's edge. How could his little brother have so little survival instincts in the face of a creature?!

Damian then asked, "Could we ask for help from you?"

Jason blurted out, "Damian! Do not!"

"Do not talk to her!" Bruce ordered.

The Mer turned to look at him and Bruce with a blank stare. Then she turned to Damian and nodded. "Of course. Shadow likes you, so I don't mind at least hearing you out."

"Our ship sank from the storm a few nights ago. Would it be alright if you helped us get to land? Preferably near a city."

The Mer hummed. "And in exchange?"

Jason grit his teeth and spoke up. "We can get fish for you. And I've heard that Merpeople like collecting the metalwork that we have. We can get you other things as well."

The Mer smiled. "Deal." She flicked her tail, scattering water droplets all over them. She looked at Jason and said, "You will help attach the raft to me."

Jason couldn't help but raise a challenging eyebrow. "You can pull the whole boat by yourself, princess?"

The Mer slid off of Shadow to swim over to him with a small smile. "I will have Shadow help me. And you will call me Jazz, little man."

"Jason," he said, gesturing to himself with a smirk, "And nothing about me is little." Jazz gave a little melodic laugh, narrowing her eyes at him.

They both stared at each other with intense gazes before Jason snapped out of it with a start, face reddening as both Damian and Bruce stared at him with completely identical looks of disgust and disbelief. Jason coughed.

"Uh. What do I need to do first...?"

Jazz chuckled, making Jason's face heat even more, and then she began to give orders around. Even Bruce sucked up his protests as he helped out. Damian didn't help for awhile as he just petted Shadow, but when Shadow left to be strapped to the raft as a lead, Damian stood up to help around.

Soon, they would be back on land.

[fictionalsweethearts]

CONVENIENTLY CLOSE | VI X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Seven years have not passed in vain, and the woman in front of you seems to be Vi's sign, but hardened by prison, stronger, taller, eager to live the lost years. And to see you again. Faced with old habits and the need for a place to lay low, Vi takes refuge in your apartment and stays conveniently close, maybe too close.

Contains: arcane!vi, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of arguments and dialogues, nsfw, explicit stuff, arcane universe, childhood friends, romance why not?, SESBIAN LEX

Word count: 6,780

Note: This fic was born from this bot which gave me juicy material to use here, part of the story arises from it, all credits to the creator!

Also, english is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

It happened in the blink of an eye, the fleeting eye contact, a chill running down your spine as you stopped to look again at who you thought was dead or gone. You paled like a ghost, barely taking a step before her arms were around you, and you let out a gasp.

You barely recognized the woman whose face buried in your neck; the toned arms, the network of tattoos on her arms, the gear on the side of her neck, the pronounced hairstyle and the piercings moved this Vi away from the one you once knew, seven years did not pass in vain and both had changed a lot, but the memories still endured. You wrapped her with doubtful arms, insecure but at the same time overwhelmed by the situation.

Your mind was flooded with memories the moment you dared to inhale the essence of her neck, that sweet aroma hidden behind the sweat and leather of her jacket, the same smell that crept into your nostrils on those afternoons on the couch, practicing boxing together, hiding in the alleys to avoid the poor victims of your pranks full of enthusiasm and malice. Of that last hug that morning, before the paths separated, life changed, Vander died and Zaun sank into chaos commanded by organized crime. Everything had changed but that hug brought you back to sweet adolescence for a few seconds, before you pulled away.

"For God's sake, you're... muscular." you murmured then, looking at the taller woman with attentive eyes.

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Vi's hands start to roam, finding their way over your shoulders. A smile appeared on her lips, the same thought kept repeating in her mind 'it's her, it's her'.

"It's an statement."

You could barely form a question in the face of such a situation, your childhood friend returning from a seven-year disappearance to stand before you in all her glory, alive, healthy, certainly different but still her nonetheless. At your sudden silence, Vi giggled, patting your shoulder gently. "Long story. don't wanna talk about it just yet."

You nodded, studying the Vi who was once four inches shorter and scar-free, realizing that wherever she was, circumstances had hardened her. “You were in prison,” you said then, not as a question.

“Surprise, surprise,” Vi muttered sarcastically. “I wasn’t dead. And i'll spare you the gritty details, cause I didn't exactly break out. I served my sentence, somehow."

She'd always had a habit of being vague, even during your childhood years. She never answered your questions directly, and she never explained herself when she got into trouble. It frustrated you back then, and it's no different now. "Enough about me. you're gonna have to fill me in. it's been like, what? Seven years?"

"Wait, I-" you had to shake your head and take a breath, cause suddenly having Vi before you wasn't among your plans. You were still at the alley. "Can we... go somewhere else? Grab a drink, talk this out?"

For a moment, she looks like she might refuse. For a moment, you wonder if she'll duck away, the way she always did. But then Vi sighs softly and nods.

"Lead the way, then." she takes a step back, folding her arms behind her neck. "I'm not payin', though.”

Gathering your thoughts and whispering a 'what a night' under your breath, you begin to lead Vi through the backstreets of a Zaun she no longer knows, but you do. Jericho served a wonderful octopus stew, and Vi was able to verify it once again after so many years. You sipped your cocktail, watching the hungry girl in front of you devour the plate, the Zaun market maintained its usual flow of customers and workers, a swarm of smells and sizzling of embers, murmurs, knives and pans to the fire filled the place.

"Now. You better start explaining how did you break out jail." you said.

The question doesn't come as a surprise - Vi had been expecting it. She sighs, and her eyes flutter up to yours, trying to find the words, trying to find the right way to say it. "I didn't break out. I served my sentence." she can see your skepticism, your disbelief, and she adds: "I got parole. Good behavior. That kinda bullshit."

"Good behavior. You?" you scoff.

"Yeah yeah, I was a saint, believe it or not. Guess I had a change of heart, people grow and all that."

"And now you're out and hungry." you comment, watching Vi finish the bowl and let out a hint of a burp.

"You gotta admit, the food behind bars is not so good." Vi grins at you again, her eyes flickering to your drink. "And the drinks either, care to share?"

Vi takes the glass, wrapping the fingers of her free hand around the base. She stares at the liquid for a moment, then her gaze drifts to meet yours, she's thinking, a lot. "Seven years... seven years is a lot of goddamn time. Almost don't recognize ya. What've you been doing all this time?"

"Let's see…" you say, your eyes scanning the market as you gather up seven years of your existence and rank them in order of importance. "I have a job, I'm… an interpreter."

"A what?" she asks, raising a brow.

"I translate, dumbass."

"Oh, right right." Vi giggled. "You work for the pilties, do you?"

"Actually, yes. I get many academic texts to translate."

"Ah, a sneaky rat. No wonder you'd take any job," she snickers. "I'd almost feel betrayed if you said you never went back to your old life of stealing and pickpocketing."

"I realized I couldn't lean on crime forever." you shrug. "Languages fits me better."

Catching up had never felt so necessary. Vi had undergone a true metamorphosis in prison, a wild flower torn from its roots and still able to cling to life with minimal water, in hostile, dry, cold soil. Now she was outside, eager to feel the putrid Zaun air against her skin, no matter how foul-smelling it was, to continue a life that hadn’t even begun yet. Yet it was the means that worried you.

"What's your plan?" you asked after a short moment of silence. "Now that you're out."

"Well, I gotta lay low for a while. They ain't gonna be lookin' for me out in the streets, but that don't mean I should be causin' trouble." her lips pull into a small smirk, as her eyes flicker to you. "Maybe I'll start robbin' the rich and givin' the profits to those in need. Or something like that."

"You'll get yourself in prison all over again." you said, rolling your eyes.

"What, you think I need you to lecture me, mother?" Vi's mocking tone couldn't help but annoy you. Again with that blind confidence and smug smile, hasn't changed one bit.

"Where are you staying?" you asked, sipping your drink which suddenly tasted bitter.

"Don't have a place. Can't exactly go back to my old apartment, for obvious reasons." her expression shifts into a smirk, a gleam of an idea passing her eyes. "Why? You offering a place to crash?"

"Huh, figured out so. You don't have a goddamn place to crash and still you intend to start robbing again?"

"It's not robbing, it's just taking something that some rich snob doesn't even need. Besides, I'll manage, alright?"

The conversation wasn’t going in the direction you expected, a sour feeling settling in your stomach as you recognized an old pattern that the years had accentuated in Vi; her stubbornness. It was one thing to be happy for an old friend who had gotten out of prison, but it was quite another to still believe that crime was a way of life and support that. And you were sick of that shit.

"I gotta go." you said, laying a bill on the table. "I have a paper to submit due tomorrow."

Vi's expression changed to as if she had been slapped. “Hey, I thought we were catching up. Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?”

"I'm happy for you, Vi, but I'm not who I used to be anymore. And neither should you be." you say, your tone so sober that Vi thought you were pulling her leg until she saw you get up from your seat and start walking away. Vi scowls and grabs the bill you left on the table, crumpling it up in her hand.

"Damnit."

Zaun had changed. It was no longer the fragile balance between misery and hope, but an overwhelming network of crime, wrapped in the growing business of Shimmer and prostitution and the certain tacit anarchy that ruled its existence. Vi needed a few days to get used to it, to recognize the city that saw her grow up and find a way to make her way through that melodious chaos. Crime had evolved, the presence of enforcers was increasingly scarce, which gave way to more aggressive, more experienced, more ingenious criminals when it came to benefiting from the few assets of the rest. In Zaun there were no rich people, only the owners of manufacturing factories, who pulled the strings and commanded drug trafficking, who could not be counted on more than one hand's fingers. However, Vi was not going to allow herself to feel strange in the city she called home, not before playing her cards and making her way into the market she knew best apart from crime: fights. With raw confidence and the certainty that seven years of training behind closed doors had given her the skills to hold her own in the ring, Vi went to the Pit and signed up for one of the night's matches. The result? A downcast and barely alive opponent, Vi claimed a spot she didn't intend to give up, and a bag full of coins. She felt right at home.

It took her three days to make a small fortune, yet her name was frequently whispered and attracted unwanted attention, putting her in a position where she had to remain low for a few days. She could keep that up long enough to make a living after seven years in confinement, but to do so she needed the hospitality and goodwill of someone in particular; you. You assumed Vi wouldn't incur in invading your precious privacy, but that wasn't the case. Not when, working on one of your latest translations, in the quiet of your apartment just a couple of blocks from the red-light district, you felt the fleeting passing of a shadow in front of the window and your alarms went off.

She had to admit, you'd picked yourself a nice little spot to settle down in. Vi could have sworn you would have moved to Piltover, after hearing about your choice of profession, but here you were, all cozy in a fancy apartment in Zaun. She couldn't be sure it was exactly safe, but you probably had ways to deal with that. A couple hours of lurking around in the shadows, and she found herself outside of your apartment window, looking in. Vi takes a moment to study the view through the window, observing your movements inside. She should probably announce her presence, but she can't help the little thrill that comes from the thought of spooking you. 

Believing herself undetected, Vi stepped into the house while investigating what she thought was your office. A room cradled with an aesthetic chaos of shelves, books and plants, a kitten sleeping by the window, very self-absorbed in his feline dreams to recognize a strange smell in his safe space. But you certainly had better instincts than Pepper.

"Stop there or I'll blow your fucking head." you stated, holding a gun against Vi's head, not even recognizing her in the darkness of the room.

Vi's eyes widen as you suddenly speak, the cold metal of the gun pressing against her skin. She raises both hands in a small surrendering gesture.

"Woah, woah! Easy, doll, it's just me."

You remove the gun from her temple, realizing that it was Vi and not another petty thief. "For god's sake." you grumbled, putting the pistol down and turning the lights on. You were in your pajamas, messy hair and still glasses on from working for hours. "What the hell are you doing by breaking into my place?"

She responds to your question with a dismissive shrug. "I need a place to crash, darling."

"Oh, fuck off." you spat, quickly walking towards the desk to put the gun into the drawer again. Pepper woke up with a hiss, just then realizing a intruder was inside. He bristled. "Why would I? You got yourself in trouble, don't you?"

"Technically not trouble. At least, not yet." she glances down at the hissing ball of fur on the floor, and scowls. "You got a damn cat. Of course you do."

She averts your gaze, shifting awkwardly. "I need a place to crash. at least for the night. My place from... before ain't exactly available to me right now."

You can't help but let out a sarcastic laugh, holding your hands akimbo. "I can't afford to have tenants, you know? Especially not the troublesome ones."

"I ain't a tenant, I'm just asking for a sofa to sleep on for one night. It's not a big deal." insists Vi, her tone softening, just like her eyes. Gosh, no, not that look.

When it comes to Vi, you resistance diminished. It was the years of friendship perhaps, or the fact that this ex-convict with deep eyes and attractive bearing softened something inside you, but to tell her 'no' has been always difficult. Even now.

"Just for tonight?" you asked, as Pepper descended from his pedestal to sniff the boots of this new guest. He didn't liked what he smelled.

"Yeah, just for tonight." she hesitates for a moment, before a small smirk spreads across her face. "Unless you have a queen-size bed that I could fit in instead."

"You'd wish." you grunted.

While you were looking for a blanket for this unplanned guest, Vi studied the room she was in. Apart from the academic chaos that surrounded the desk, the rest of the room was tidy and harmonious. In front of the plum-colored sofa, there was a coffee table, on it a couple of books and a candle, along with what Vi soon recognized as a stash. The candle catches her attention for a moment, and her gaze flicks to the small pipe sitting on the coffee table. Interesting. definitely not the doll I remember.

Behind her, a large shelf stood, next to a series of windows that allowed the moon to sneak in, in addition to Pepper's pedestal, fluffy and scratched. The room was composed of green, purple and orange tones, the string of lights hanging from the ceiling gave it a cozy and calm air.

"Here." you said, handing Vi the blanket.

"Thanks." she mumbles.

"Stay away from my stuff, you hear me? And the booze as well, you drunkie."

A small scoff escaped her lips once you closed the door, and she shifts under the blanket, getting comfortable. She takes a moment, before her gaze drifts over towards Pepper.

"Watcha glaring at, ya little shit." She mutters, the corner of her mouth curving up again.

Vi didn't want to abuse your trust, but she couldn't help but inspect the privacy of your office the next morning. Her desk was really a source of curiosity for her, with that amount of trinkets, sheets, books and notes. The carnivorous plant next to them seemed to be watching her, as if she wanted to bite her finger off if Vi dared to sniff through the drawers. But she was an ex-convict and that was a fucking plant.

Inside the drawers were spread documents and bills, you earned quite well for translation, and many orders came from the science district in Piltover, or failing that, from the shimmer factories in Zaun. You made no distinctions, you just worked. This could not help but annoy Vi a little, working for drug producers was certainly not ethical, but a woman like her had no right to talk about ethics either.

Pepper's hiss took her out of her thoughts, the gray cat looked at her with the disdain and suspicion of a human. As if he knew of her past mistakes, of the fact that she turned to crime from a young age, that she was unable to protect Powder when she needed it most, that as soon as she got out of prison her life seemed to point to repeating the same pattern of crime she had grown up with. But Vi had to be wiser this time, play her cards right, break a cycle she was too accustomed to. She let out a sigh, grabbing her jacket before she left the apartment through the window.

Vi was a silent visitor during the nights, she preferred not to bother you since she knew that her ability to stay on the couch depended on the owner's mood, but you also didn't admit that you were starting to get used to and even wish for the presence of the pink-haired woman at home. First there were brief conversations under the cover of night, then a shared cigarette and an improvised dinner, then it was talking about aspirations and fears. Suddenly Vi felt as close as when you were both fifteen. But mischief no longer appeared as the main act of your interactions, but something else that certainly felt different, an unknown spark that was missing before and that made Vi so pleasant to look at.

Days went by, she came brusied and exhausted from her fights to just crash on the sofa and sleep her pain away. It's been two months with such dynamic and you accepted it.

Vi shifted on the couch, an unusual weight on her stomach saying good morning to her and soon, with sunlight filtering through the curtains, Pepper let out a feline complaint. The cat rested on Vi, naturally comfortable after so many visits from her. Sitting up, Vi studied the room and was surprised to see a lump lying on the desk in front of the couch, you had been up late working again.

“She’s going to work herself to death at this point.” Vi muttered, carefully pushing Pepper off her lap and heading to the desk. Vi knew about the constant commissions that rained down in a never-ending stream of work, but she’d also seen you falling asleep during the day, forgetting to eat, and the dark furrow under your eyes worsening. The woman sighed, gently pushing you off the surface to lift you up with ease, carrying you to your room. You mumbled something along the way, ineligible but akin to a complaint that did nothing but amuse Vi.

As your back hit the soft surface of the bed, your hands sought out Vi’s, pulling her along with you. The woman was initially taken aback by this sudden display of affection, you weren’t one to hug or seek contact, but you looked sick and tired and she couldn’t say no to a person in that condition. She snuggled up to you, running a calloused but gentle hand up your arm, burying her fingers in the strands of your hair. "You really ain't taking care of yourself, cupcake." mumbles Vi, cupping your cheek as her thumb gently stroked your nose.

And at the sight of you, your haggard face against the mattress, the sun streaming through the window and outlining your huddled figure, Vi found a new purpose, someone to protect. And as soon as you fell asleep, she got up, put on her jacket and headed to the only place she knew for sure would allow her to make some quick money.

“Black?” you asked, only a month later, holding the small bottle of black dye as Vi wet her hair in the sink. If Vi understood anything about street fighting, it was that a character was the best way to get the public’s attention, the attention turning into bets and the bets into money. For several weeks now, Violet had been arriving at the apartment late at night, bruised, exhausted and with a small bag of coins in her pocket. “For you, doll” the woman would murmur, barely taking the time to kick off her boots before landing on the couch and falling asleep. At first you thought it was just another risky business Vi was getting into, but after a couple of weeks you realized that the name “Vi” was whispered among the alleys and the market, and that she carried the title of undefeated for more than five matches in a row. She was a champion, no doubt about it, and the beneifts from her profession meant more support for household expenses. Suddenly Vi had become your partner, and all she asked in return was a good talk and for you to heal her wounds. And certainly you would do so.

A smirk crept over her lips at the sight of the bottle resting in your hands. "Yeah, black. I'm sick of standin' out. The pink's too bright." her eyes flick to you again, a mischievous look in them. "You're gonna help me out, right? I don't wanna make a mess of myself while trying to do it alone."

You looked at the little bottle of dye and then at Vi, knowing that once she gets an idea inside her head, nothing can erase it unless she tries it. You sighed. "Sit down," you said at last, reaching for the plastic gloves and the cup in the cabinet.

It took you a good hour, but together, you both managed to dye her long pink hair a dark, natural black. Vi's face had hardened, her scars and freckles seeming to stand out against her dark hair. It was then that, in the face of a silence that spoke volumes, Vi was the one to dare to say the first word. "Gotta say, doll. You did a good job."

"You look like you fell into a pool of oil." you said, clearly disapproving of the new look. Even Pepper, who stepped into the bathroom, hissed at Vi.

"Ah, so even the goddamn cat's against me now, eh?" she asked, making you let out a chuckle. The dye wasn't the only thing that changed Vi's appearance, she left the striped pants and red jacket at home, getting herself tight jeans, ripped at the knees, leather boots, a jacket of the same material, provided with gold studs and the print of a two-headed wolf on the back and covering her bust, bandages wrapped tightly. She looked almost unrecognizable, intimidating. Watching her grab her bag and head for the door that night, you couldn't help but feel anxious and think of the worst case scenarios.

You let out a sharp sigh and spoke up. "Vi, wait. You don't have to keep doing this, y'know? Fighting. I'm sure we can find another way."

Vi frowns at your words, her grip on the doorknob tightening.

"Nah, don't start with that." Her eyes narrow slightly, a touch of defensiveness in her voice. "I've always fought, y'know? it's what I'm good at. I don't know anything else."

"I don't want you to get hurt." you insisted, stepping closer.

"I know how to take care of myself, dollface. I'm not some weak little kid anymore." her voice is a little gruff as she tries to deflect the concern.

"You've never been weak..." you mutter, your expression softening as Vi hovered closer. "But you're not invincible neither."

"Yeah, well, who is invincible?" she takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. her eyes dart across your face, searching for something. "You worry about me too much, cupcake."

"You'd like me to not give a shit about you?" you inquire, looking into Vi's eyes.

she scoffed. "Yeah, i'd like to see you try." her eyes flicker across your face again as her thumb briefly brushes over your chin. A moment of silence passes between you, the room feeling almost charged as the two of you stare at each other intently.

Her proximity was electrifying, the smell of hair dye and grease filling your nostrils, her firm yet gentle hand on your chin preventing you from looking away, your field of vision dominated by her, by her light blue eyes, her scar on her upper lip and eyebrow, her straight eyebrows, her messy makeup, her dark lips. "I couldn't stop worrying, Vi. Even if I tried to." you whisper at last.

"Yeah, probably." she mutters, her voice a hoarse whisper. You let out a gasp as Vi leaned in to kiss you, a simple, almost shy kiss, but capable of wreaking such havoc on your insides that your heart began to pound.

She captures your mouth in a gentle kiss, her lips moving against yours slowly, almost tentatively, as if she was testing the waters. When you gasp in response, she deepens the kiss, her hand on your face moving to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Her other hand moves to rest on your hip, pulling you a little closer as you feel your skin burning with an unexpected thrill. But you find yourself pulling back, a hand against Vi's chest.

"No." you whisper, exasparated, overwhelmed, as Vi's breath brushes your lips.

"No?" she repeats, her voice cracking slightly. Her hand remains tangled in your hair, the other still lingering on your hip, its grip having tightened. "You don't want me to keep going?"

"We shouldn't..." you weakly whisper. It wasn't just the kiss, it was about kissing a woman, and that woman being your lifelong friend. How much were you risking by crossing that line and delving into the taste of her lips and the firmness of her hands? God, you could barely explain it to yourself.

She pauses at your words, her grip on your hip loosening as she processes the conflicted look in your eyes. Her gaze drifts across your face, taking in every detail, as if trying to read your thoughts.

"Y'know..." a brief silence stretches between you, the only sound being the faint hum of the city outside the window. "We can stop... if you want."

Her hand slowly falls from your hip, and she takes a measured breath as she steps back, putting a short distance between the two of you.

You feel her slip away from you, backing away as a look of disappointment settles on her face and the glow of desire fades. You swallow. "I've never kissed a girl." you suddenly confess.

She runs a hand through her dark hair, visibly processing this new information. There's a moment of tense silence before she speaks again, letting out a huff. "I figured out so."

Your eyes widened, watching Vi taking a step back towards the door. "I should get going, there's a match I have to win." she says, leaving the apartment, leaving you confused, almost upset.

During Vi's absence, you couldn't find anything to distract you. As soon as you sat down for a moment to rest after feeding Pepper, tidying the living room, doing the laundry, heating up dinner or taking a shower, the touch of her lips flooded your senses and produced an almost unknown tingle in your belly. The smell of her skin, the gentleness with which her hand settled on your hip and pulled you against her. You couldn't stop replaying the scene, with some uncertainty if you were allowed to think that way about a childhood friend, or a woman. You only found some peace once you fell asleep that night, in the wee hours of the morning you felt an extra weight on the bed with you, an arm around your waist and an "I'm home, cupcake."

The next morning, you found the space next to you empty. You assumed Vi had fallen asleep on the couch, but her boots beside the bed and her jacket on your dresser said otherwise. You got up, hearing Pepper meowing in hunger from the kitchen. You barely noticed the overflowing bag of money on the coffee table or the sound of the shower running, only sleepwalking into the kitchen to feed the hungry cat. With the animal crouched before its bowl, you poured yourself a glass of water and only then turned back to the coffee table. “I told you I had a fight to win,” Vi said from behind you, watching you count the coins and bills in shock. The woman stood by the door, her hair still damp and a not-so-disguisable cut across the bridge of her nose, eyebrow, and cheek. “This is a bunch of money.” you muttered, studying the woman before you.

"Bets paid good last night." she nonchalantly replied, coming closer as she ignored the money. You were the center of her attention then, you and your robe. "I want you to take a break, alright? From your job."

"A break?" you asked, Vi's sincere smile speaking volumes.

"Yeah, for a while." she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, her touch surprisingly gentle. "You work too much."

Your expression softened, noticing the sweet gentleness which Vi treated you, how tender her eyes were at that moment. You couldn't help but lean against her touch. "About last night..."

Her hand cups your chin, her thumb gently grazing over your bottom lip. "You don't regret it, do you?" her voice is hoarse and low. Beneath her confident façade, there’s a hint of vulnerability in her eyes, a subtle fear that you’ll reject her.

"No." despite the inner turmoil, you couldn't regret it, not when you wanted more.

Relief flickers across her face, and that cocky smirk returns to her lips. "Good." her hand cups the side of your face, fingers lightly brushing across your skin, and she leans in to whisper against your lips. "Cause I’m gonna kiss you again."

This time it wasn't a fearful kiss, but deep and ambitious from the first moment, Vi pulling you against her and wrapping her lips around yours with a soft moan that only served to ignite a timid flame of desire that now sought to become a fire. You closed your eyes and dared to hold her cheek, testing a terrain unknown to you but dominated by her. She wanted to be gentle with you, to ease you into this new terrain, but her desire for you overpowered her self-restraint and the kiss quickly turned hungry and greedy.

"Please, just..." she whispered against your lips, a hand sneaking underneath your robe to grasp your waist. "Let's sit down."

Vi landed on the couch, pulling you closer until you were straddling her, taking possession of the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. You moaned against her lips, savoring every sensation as if it were a dish you’d never tried before but surprisingly tasted delightful and addictive. Vi smelled like shampoo, her lips were soft and her hands were calloused but gentle. One of them ran down your spine over your robe, and you stepped back to quickly remove it.

She kissed your neck, running gentle palms up the expanse of your neck and chest, shyly cupping one of your breasts before you pulled away to look at her. She understood the approval in your eyes, bringing her hands behind your thighs to hoist your hips so your chest faced her. You let out a sigh at the wetness of her mouth enveloping your nipple, a gentle, tentative suck that made you clench in a new way. “Fuck…” you moaned, at the same time as their hands massaged your buttocks and dared to slap them.

"I was waiting for you to start swearing." she whispered against your tits, one of her hands running along your spine before you felt the urge for more.

Your ass landed again, this time Vi’s knee between your legs as she kissed you again. You wanted more, you wanted to know what else could be offered by a woman whose experiences had hardened her character but were unable to sour her kisses and moans. Vi still had so much love to offer, and you knew she loved you, every action, every look said it. The way she made you breakfast while you dealt with endless loads of work at your desk said it, her banal conversations that sought to lift your spirits said it, her hands holding you as if you were physically a necessity said it, the bags of money resting on the table said it, and her bruises from brutal fights where her main motivation was you, said it. Vi always loved you, but it was only a matter of time before you realized it was a romantic affection, not a friendly one.

You were exasperated, your hips rocking as Vi pressed her knee into your core, a delicious friction that produced a pleasant, addictive tingle, your wetness speaking for itself. Vi gripped your waist tightly, setting the pace, watching you with attentive eyes and parted lips. You found yourself moaning against her lips, kissing her in fits and starts before you had to pull back for more. "You're so pretty." she whispered.

You leaned in for another kiss, before your hands went down to pull Vi's top off. The contrast was clear, Vi standing out for her muscles and roughness, the network of tattoos on her arms and back capturing your attention for a moment before you ran a hand over her chest. Discreet glances spoke, and the moans that indicated something was going (very) right. Vi patted your thigh before you withdrew from her lap, sliding your panties down gently as she placed a trail of kisses from your hip to your knee.

You felt self-conscious, Vi’s gaze seemed to take in every last detail of your body, from the bones of your hips, to your navel, to the pubic hair that covered your crotch. But your insecurity had no place in the eyes of a woman who simply wanted you for being you. “Don’t give me that look, you’re gorgeous.” She smiled, her hand settling between your legs as she probed your wetness. “Shh… just checking.” She whispered, her thumb gently circling your clit. “Does that feel good?”

"Yes..." you moaned, the suggestive wet noises making you shiver. "Really good." you spread your legs wider, giving Vi the consent to continue further.

You lifted one knee onto the couch as a finger gently entered and curled towards the nearest wall of your insides, giving you a sweet tickle. Vi studied your expressions, the way your breathing quickened and your hands rested on her shoulders for support.

"You're so soft..." she murmured, her own breathing labored as she continued to watch your expressions closely, seeking any sign of discomfort. "Tell me if it hurts." her free hand lightly stroked your thigh, a gesture of reassurance while she checked on you constantly, realizing your reaction came from sole pleasure and not pain at all. Soon enough she eased a second finger and a sigh escaped her lips as she felt you clenching around her.

"That's it..." she muttered against your mouth as she leaned in to kiss you, her fingers slowly working in and out of you. Her touch was gentle but firm, as if she was being careful not to hurt you.

Your knees threatened to buckle, the constant motion inside you awakened nerve endings you thought were inert, Vi’s ears searching to pick up your every grunt and moan. Her breathing quickened, before she let out a hiss and pulled her fingers away. A quiet whine escaped your lips and she took a moment to catch her breath. "Sorry... just a sec..."

Vi stood up from the couch, cupping the back of your neck to give you another kiss before gently motioning for you to lie down. "Lay back for me, cupcake." she whispered, finding a way between your legs as she trailed a way of kisses from your chest to your groin. There was a certain urgency to Vi's movements, a desire that made her breathing quicken and her fingers squeeze the flesh of your thighs as she parted them, skipping the main course in favor of running her tongue along the inside of your thighs, placing brief kisses and bites that allowed the blood to flow to your core, awakening your muscles, making you desperate for relief.

"Please."

"Shh, I've got you." she whispered against your skin, her voice a low and sultry rumble, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your inner thighs. "Patience."

You leaned your head back, eyes closing at the wet feel of her tongue as it ran up and down your core. She kept one hand firmly on your hip, the other on your thigh as she kept it apart. You moaned, looking down into a pair of lustful, delighted eyes, her mouth covering your folds, sucking and alternating with the tip of her tongue. Watching you, studying your pleasure, relishing on your sweet whimpers. “Fuck.” You moaned, your hips bucking slightly in search of more contact.

Vi's tongue worked you slowly and deliberately, mapping every inch of your core with a mixture of delicacy and desire. She released your hip and brought her hand up to your chest, her fingers finding your nipple and giving it a firm pinch. "That's it, just feel it..."

Her hand kneaded your breast as her tongue circled your clit, unashamed to make wet, suggestive sounds, to moan against your folds and to stop and look at you from time to time. She smiled, you looked splendid, needy but at the same time pleased, your cheeks slightly rosy, your lips parted, letting out moans and light gasps.

"Breathe, cupcake. I wouldn't want you to hyperventilate," she said mischievously, sticking her tongue out to deliver a long lick along the length of your core.

"Easy for you to say..." you panted, trying to catch your breath. Your mind was spinning, your body aching and desperate. But Vi had something else in mind, a way to drive you to the edge.

“Take a breath.” she whispered, pulling her mouth from between your legs to settle on her knees. “Look at me.” Vi caressed your thighs and moistened her ring and middle fingers with her mouth as you forced yourself to inhale and not exhale gasps of anticipation. Suddenly you felt her hand cup your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. You rested on your forearms behind your back as she inserted both of your fingers, twisting them in a specific motion that managed to draw a muffled whimper from you. It was sparkling, sweet, precise, and in the perfect spot. "Goddamn..." you whined.

"I know." Vi chuckled, kissing you again as the throes of an orgasm built in your lower belly and made your legs tense. "I know, pretty."

You reached a point where your thoughts were cut off, each and every one of them about Vi, her lips against yours, her fingers inside, curling and keeping a steady rhythm that did nothing but lead you down the right path to orgasm. You moaned into her mouth, pulling away to breathe once an electric wave shook every fiber of your body and your legs locked in an involuntary spasm. Vi rested her forehead against your chest, placing soft kisses as your arms cradled her head, yearning to be close to the person who was able to make you come so hard. Vi smiled, studying the way the pleasure settled into your muscles and your arms slackened.

"Good, babe, good..." she whispered, taking a look of your teary eyes before you pulled her to kiss her deeply.

You stared at the ceiling, the sun streaming through the window as your hands ran through Vi’s thick hair. You missed the pink, the dull black hardened her face too much. The boxer sighed, also processing the fact that she had just had sex with you and it had been wonderful from start to finish. This peace was new, it wasn’t temporary or fragile, it was latent, substantial, tangible. It was as if Vi had spent twenty-three years of her life searching for the calm that only lying on your chest gave her, and she couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy and satisfied. This is what life is about, not just surviving, but breaking down defenses and forgetting for a moment about being the strong one. You kissed her crown, Pepper climbed on the sofa and curled up between your feet and Vi's, purring calmly, like a lullaby.

"Looks like Pepper has finally accepted you." you whispered, making Vi lift her face.

"It was damn time. Just like her mom, stubborn as hell." she agreed, looking at the cat briefly before she nuzzled against your chest again. "He better get used to it, cause I ain't leaving your side anytime soon."

[arilevenatz]

Chasing Shadows

Pairing: popular guy!yeosang x chubby!fem!reader

Genre: Angst (?), fluff

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: kinda frat boy yeosang, him and his friends are handsome (yes that's a warning), reader has anxiety, she is also insecure, anxiety attacks, yeo is cheeky, like really cheeky, you might wanna flick him a bit, bestfriend! San and wooyoung, suicide mentioned, lmk if I missed any!!

AN: y'all bear with me this is my first time posting on Tumblr, I'm still figuring out stuff. I had a dream about this and I decided that I'm gonna write a yeo fic. And also please reblog and like, so I can get more motivated!!

Yeosang was a quiet and smart guy in the class. He used to talk only when spoken to. Except his little friend group, well maybe not so little. All the students seem to respect him of some sort. He and his group almost seemed, untouchable. Not like they were the popular group or something. Neither were they hostile. They were just really handsome. The whole group looked like they walked out of a movie set of a kdrama.

You were not new to this. But not particularly known as well. Honestly you didn't care. You stopped caring since high school. The only thing you knew about him was that he was a guy from a group.....and he was good at maths. You were a normal student, yes, maybe you scored the top score in Psychology in your college anyone has ever had, but that's just irrelevant right? In the end, nobody cares.

But you were wrong, he cares. So much so that he came and sat beside you in English class. Not particularly unlikely for someone to sit beside you. You usually didn't even care. But he isn't just somebody. He is the Yeosang. The same guy that all the girls swooned over just cuz he showed his birthmark. What's so impressive about birthmarks anyway? It's just a mark.

At first, you didn't care. But then it started to repeat. Everyday he would come and sit beside you (cause language classes were mandatory everyday) and heck you were not liking the attention you were getting.

"Hey, you should not get close to yeosang or anyone in their group. I heard they are gangsters" "I heard they are no good" "They are in a satanic cult where they sell their souls to the devil to live for eternity!!"

Yeah needless to say people had some crazy rumours about them. You? you didn't care. And also who the fuck would sell their soul to live forever. You'd rather do that to die painlessly, cause life. But for some reason, they seem to keep their distance from the group but admire them from afar. Almost as if they are scared of them.

Anyway people are quick to come to conclusions. But you were not like that. You were annoyed. Like why the fuck you sitting next to me dude go away. But of course you're an unproud introvert. You can't just tell him to leave that's rude. So you did the next best thing. Just sit somewhere else. If he really liked that seat, he could have his nook. You're gonna go and distance yourself. Not cause you are scared of him, but you know just to be careful. (Keep gaslighting yourself queen)

Yeosang walks into the classroom and scans the big room, his eyes narrowing as he doesn't see you in your usual seat. His headphones in he hesitantly approaches the desk where you're now sitting and pulls out the chair beside you, sitting down heavily. You mentally slap your forehead. This really is helping your reputation.

Yeosang looks at you with a raised eyebrow, clearly confused. He glances around the room, noticing the other students staring at you both. After a moment of silence, he turns back to you and notices your ears are red. He asks in a low tone, "What's going on? Why are you sitting somewhere else today?" Wow he's talking to me now

Yeosang gaze stills, and he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're avoiding me because of what people are saying about me, isn't it?" His voice is deep, but oddly quiet. It was something you've never heard before. And you couldn't pinpoint his emotions.

"Well kinda. But that doesn't mean I actually believe them. I just don't like people." You say thinking you weirded him out and hoping he'll leave you alone assuming you're an antisocial animal.

A flicker of something passes through Yeosang's eyes at your blunt response. He uncrosses his arms and leans forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "I get it. You don't trust easily. Neither do I." He pauses, considering his words carefully. Bro stop talking to me ?!

You don't react to his words and just look at the front. Your whole face feels warm. It's that feeling you get when you're embarrassed. Feeling everyone's eyes on you. You felt anxious, thinking everyone was judging you. You hate this feeling. You felt exposed to everyone. Even though they don't give two shits about you. It's that bubbling feeling inside the pit of your stomach. The heaviness in your chest. That shakiness in your hands and legs. You really felt like it would be nice if the floor split in half and eat you alive.

The class finish and you quickly pack up and leave, avoiding him again. Yeosang watches you rush out the door without a backward glance. His looks at your leaving figure with a thoughtful expression. The next day, he arrives early to claim the seat next to you again, determined to break through your walls.

As the class enters, Yeosang is already seated in your usual spot, his arms crossed and pen spinning in his hand. His presence seems to command the attention of the room, but he pays no mind to the whispers or curious glances directed at him. Instead, his focus is fixed on the doorway, waiting for your arrival. When you finally enter, he notices how you hesitate at the sight of him already occupying your seat. It was then when he looked down and started to scribble something in his notebook. You try to skip the vacant seat beside him and go further behind but he reaches out and grabs your backpack, pulling it onto the empty seat beside him. He continues to write, his pen scratching against the paper in a steady rhythm. After a moment, he glances up and meets your gaze, his expression unreadable. "You're late".

You sit down quietly, take off your glasses and rub your face, ignoring him. Here we go again, I'm tired of this shit.. What does a girl do to have some peace? Witnessing your frustration, a slight smile appears on his lips as he reaches for your glasses. "Hey," he says in a low voice, just audible enough for you to hear. His fingers brush against yours as he takes the glasses from your hand, then deliberately places them back on your face, adjusting them slightly. "Wear them"

The teacher comes in and starts to teach. You sit there, staring blankly at the teacher writing on the board, but your mind is elsewhere. You replay the moment he adjusted your glasses, trying to read into his expression. You begin to imagine that he looked disgusted, that he must think you're hideous without your glasses on. You can't help but feel self-conscious. You catch yourself unconsciously touching your glasses, as if to double-check they're still there. You imagine him whispering to his friends about how ugly you look without them, how he's only sitting next to you as a joke. You felt yourself picking at your finger nails, your legs bouncing up and down continuously with the approaching thoughts.

During a brief moment when the teacher turns away to write on the board, Yeosang leans in closer to you. His voice is low and barely audible, "Stop picking at your nails, it's distracting" He says it bluntly, without any real malice, before returning his attention to the lecture.

"Im sorry" you apologise quietly. Wait why the fuck did I apologise, I did nothing wrong.

Over the next few days, a pattern emerges. Yeosang continues to sit next to you in class, trying to engage in conversation, but you always find a way to shut him down or quickly change the subject. He notices that you avoid him between classes, always taking a different route. You think it's working, driving him away slowly. Maybe he'll realise you really are weird and will leave you alone. But something quite opposite happens.

Yeosang starts to get frustrated with the constant rebuffs. He can't understand why you're so hostile towards him, especially since he's trying to be friendly. One day, as you're walking down the hallway, he blocks your path, forcing you to stop and look at him. "What's your problem?"

"What is your problem?" You say, as he blocks your path with his body. "My problem? You're the one who's been acting like I've got a disease every time I try to talk to you." You open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. "You're always shutting me down, avoiding me, and picking at those damn nails of yours. It's like you can't stand my presence."

You look down, sighing loudly and look up to him. "Then take the damn sign man, I don't wanna talk to you or engage in any activity that involves you" yeah that'll do, that gotta be the most rude thing you say to anyone, that'll definitely shoo him off. But again, the universe says fuck you and the opposite happens. Yeosang's eyes widen in surprise at your blunt words. For a moment, he stares at you, his expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, he bursts into laughter - a deep, genuine sound that echoes through the hallway. This fucker-

"What's so funny?" you ask, clearly embarrassed. Yeosang continues to laugh, his shoulders shaking as he looks you up and down. When he finally composes himself, he wipes tears from his eyes and says, "Damn, I like you even more now. You're fucking hilarious. Alright, fine, I'll take the sign."

He did not take the sign. Yes he did stop directly talking to me, but he won't actually leave me alone. He is still in the shadows. He stopped sitting beside me but went behind me. He stopped walking with me but started following me around.

Yeosang finds your stubborn refusal to engage endearing rather than frustrating. Instead of backing off as you hoped, he shifts tactics. He maintains a subtle presence in your peripheral vision. You catch glimpses of him behind you in class, always watching. At lunch one day, yeosang casually sits at the table next to yours with a group of his friends. He doesn't look at you directly, but you can feel his eyes flicking in your direction

Yeosang's friends chat with him, but he only half-listens, his attention constantly drifting to you. He murmurs something to them, and they glance over at you, exchanging curious looks. His friend, wooyoung asks him "yo man, how's your pursuing that girl going?" Another guy, San, says "I don't know if you can call it pursuing dawg, all he does is follow the girl around the college like a creep." Wooyoung pops a cookie in his mouth and says "Damn man, I didn't know you were like this"

"Shut up about her." His tone is casual, but there's an edge to it - protectiveness almost. He keeps his voice low enough that only they can hear, "She's... different. Fuck, I don't know why, but she's got me twisted up." Wooyoung grins mischievously, "Ah ha! You're falling for her aren't you? You're actually trying to chase a girl who isn't subtly throwing herself at you." He laughs, nudging yeosang's arm. "But that's not really gonna work is it? you need to fucking commit to it"

Yeosang's expression darkens slightly, his eyes narrowing. He takes a swig of his soda before responding, "What do you suggest then, genius? You think I should just walk up to her and...?" He leaves the sentence hanging, waiting for Wooyoung's input. "Yes, you should" San says without missing a beat. San's straightforward approach makes him smirk, but a flash of uncertainty crosses his face. "And what if she..." He pauses, running a hand through his styled hair "... what if she thinks I'm weird?" His eyes shift in your direction for a brief moment before focusing back on his friends. "Bruh, the way you've been acting all these days, she probably already thinks of you like that by now"

Yeosang scoffs, shaking his head disbelievingly. "Fuck, when you put it like that..." He leans back in his chair, crossing his muscular arms over his chest, his silver chain catching the light. "Maybe it's time to switch things up then."

The library is large and quiet, with tall bookshelves filling the room. The shelves are packed with books of all colors. Sunlight shines through colorful windows, making pretty patterns on the floor. A few students sit quietly, reading or studying. It's a peaceful place to think and learn. As you enter the library, the usual silence is interrupted only by the rustling of pages and the occasional whisper. You find a quiet corner to sit down and start reading. After a few minutes, you hear footsteps approaching. You don't pay much attention, assuming it's just another student.

You felt them sit down across from you. Your body tenses slightly as you notice the movement, causing you to glance up from your book. Through your peripheral vision, you catch sight of the person who just sat down across from you - it's him again. It's been weeks since he has been silently following you around, but now he approached you again.

His presence looms oddly, a juxtaposition in this sanctum of silence. He gazes at you, an unreadable expression on his chiseled face, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the cover of a thick tome he's brought with him. "Hey." You answered him silently "hey...." He leans forward slightly, the movement causing the leather of his jacket to creak softly. "Look... I know you probably think I'm being kinda creepy and shit..." He runs a hand through his messy dark hair, looking uncomfortable for once, unlike his usual composed demeanor.

He takes a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts. "I just... I wanted to talk to you, ya know? You're different from the other girls at school. You're always so... quiet, so focused on your books."

"You're so different, you're the most unique girl I've ever met. You're my type, are you gonna say this? All those lame shit people say in movies? Please stop mocking me" His expression freezes for a moment, caught off guard by your blunt response. Then, to your surprise, he lets out a low, genuine laugh. "Shit, you're right. That was cheesy as hell." He shakes his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. You were listening to him. But something inside you stirred and you felt angry. You remembered all those times those people in middle and high school bullied you. All those times you felt that every time you entered the room, everyone looked at your body and you felt insecure. All those times your family members indirectly forced you to believe that you can only be loved when you lose weight. And you snapped. "stop mocking me. I know people like you. you guys go up to girls like me and say you like them only to say 'April fools' or say 'its a dare' later. I hate guys like you"

His grin fades, his expression turning serious, but his eyes still hold a glint of mischief. "You really think that's what I'm doing?" He tilts his head to the side, studying your face intently. He maintains eye contact, his expression unreadable. He sees the suspicion in your eyes, and it only seems to fuel his mischievous glint. He leans forward, his voice lowering. "Let me ask you something..." He studies your face intently, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "First off... do I look like I have a problem finding girls to talk to?" He gestures to himself, a hint of pride in his tone. "And second..." His voice drops lower as he deliberately maintains eye contact. "Second what?" You shout.

"No shouting in the library student!" The librarian warned you. You sit back down embarrassed and all red.

He laughs a little and says "Second, would I really waste my time pretending to like someone just to play an April Fool's prank?" His words send a shiver down your spine as he pulls back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe..." He looks at you with a half-smirk, half-serious expression "You're actually quite... interesting. Not many people stand up to me like you do." His eyes crinkle again as he studies your reaction "And hey..." He reaches over and lightly taps your finger. You retreat your hand from his touch. His expression shifts to a playful pout, though his eyes still hold a glint of amusement "Wow, so I'm not even worthy of a tiny hand tap?" You shake your head as a 'No'. He leans back in his chair, studying your defensive posture with interest "You're not scared of me, are you?" He chuckles low in his throat, his gaze never leaving yours even though you fail to keep eye contact, "listen, can I not just like you? I like you. I want to be with you"

"No! people don't simply like girls like me" you felt like crying, but you can't. His expression turns mockingly serious, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, so you're saying you're not likeable? You think I can't like you because you're... what?" He crosses his arms, leaning forward again, his curiosity piqued. You were getting annoyed.

"You know what I am"

"No I don't"

"Fuck. Fine! Im fat and ugly"

His face freezes and for a moment, he looks genuinely shocked. But then, he lets out a harsh laugh. "Fat and ugly? He shakes his head, his gaze raking over your form appraisingly. "You really think that's what I see when I look at you?"

"You don't need to look at me like that, I am like that so fuck off I don't need you laughing at my face."

You stand up harshly, take your bag and walk outside the library. He follows you and grabs your upper arm, not harshly but firmly enough to hold your attention. "Listen carefully..." His voice softens, losing its usual mocking tone. "I'm not some creep who goes around lying to get in girls' pants." You open your mouth to say something but he quickly shuts you off. "You know what I see when I look at you? I see someone who's honest, even if it hurts. I see someone who's strong, even when they feel weak. And I see someone who's fucking beautiful, inside and out."

"Everyone says that but that's actually never true!"

"Then tell me, what do you see when you look in the mirror? Because whoever made you believe these lies about yourself? That person's fucking blind."

"Im not about to start talking to you as if you're my therapist. You let me go"

He loosens the grip but still holds onto your hand. "Alright, But just so we're clear? You're not fat, and you're definitely not ugly. You can tell me why you feel that way"

You wriggle your hand out of his hold and finally look at him. You've had enough.

"Fine, you wanna know? I am chubby, and I'm ok with that, I have no problem being chubby. it's just tiring for me because ppl always make it seem like I'm some disgusting things that doesn't deserve humanity" you take a breath and star again, "And you cannot say anything to me because you wanted this, you wanted me to say all these"

You look down, feeling defeated. It's so weird to word these things to someone, considering you had no one growing up. No siblings, no bestfriends, no close cousins. Even your parents never listened or talked to you about how you felt. You were truly tired. You felt two hands hold your shoulder. You look up, and it's Yeosang.

"People are fucking idiots. And the fact that you're okay with being yourself makes you hotter than anyone who tries to fit into some bullshit beauty standard." His jaw clenches at your words, a hint of something flashing in his eyes. He looked angry.

"Those assholes can keep their narrow-minded opinions. Because someone who stands up for themselves like you just did? Someone who owns their worth instead of begging for validation"

His gaze intensifies, filled with a newfound respect and... something deeper. "That's the kind of person who deserves to be cherished. And anyone who can't see that? They're the ones who are fucking ugly, inside and out."

He sees the unspoken acknowledgment in your eyes, the silent absorption of his words. It's the first time he's seen you listen so intently, without pushing him away or rolling your eyes. He swallows hard, realizing the power of his words on you.

His monologue ended. And it was everything you wanted to hear all these days. The words you wanted your parents to say to you, the words you needed. He said everything. It was the first time in a while you felt like you can actually believe someone. But you were not like this. Circumstances made you so that you push away everyone. And that has become your nature. If I can push them away before they can, I won't be hurt.

"I appreciate your words towards me, but I don't know anything about your confession. I-I don't think so I can accept it"

He nods slowly, a small smile playing on his lips. "I get it. It's a lot to take in, especially coming from a person like me." He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell you what - how about I show you my worth?"

You look up at him, bewildered. What does he want. Is he crazy? Has he lost his marbles? Is he that bored? All these questions flood your mind but only one thing slips out of your mouth, "huh?" His smile grows wider, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "You know, prove to you that I'm not just some dumb guy who talks big." He pauses, studying your face. "I'll do something for you. Something that shows you I'm more than just words. I'll court you"

You were speechless. "I-I don't need-"

He puts a finger on your lips to shut you up. "Let me finish," He says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm not doing this to pressure you or anything stupid like that. I just want a chance to show you who I really am, beyond the tough act."

Looking at your eyes, he realised how hurt you were. He exhales slowly, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that he rarely lets anyone see. "I know I'm not the prince charming type. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe you deserve someone who fights for you, who understands the real world and all its fucked up beauty."

The next day, as you walk into college, you catch him standing beside the gate. Wearing his signature black attire with silver accessories. As you walked towards the gate, he saw you and he got off the wall and walked towards you. He stops in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at you with a small smile. "Morning," He says, his voice casual but with an underlying warmth. "I was waiting for you."

"Good morning" you look around and see people look at you for a moment and then look away. It made your face feel hot from embarrassment.

He holds your cheeks and moves your face towards him "don't look at them. ignore them" You both start walking towards the class. As they walk side by side, Yeosang couldn't help but let out a light chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "You know, I never thought I'd be one for this whole 'gentleman' thing. But here I am, walking you to class like some corny love story."

You were quick with your answer, "You wanted this. I'm positive by the end of this week, you won't want to be with me"

His smile fades a bit at your words, a hint of seriousness entering his eyes. "And why's that?" He asks, his voice low and even. "You think you're that hard to handle?" He smirks, but there's an underlying challenge in his gaze. You wait for him, to say further, but he waits for your answer. You look to the side, taking in a breath and say "Yes."

He stops walking abruptly, turning to face you directly. His expression is intense, a blend of amusement and determination. "Well, guess what? I've dealt with thorns, I've tangled with barbs, I've faced off against the sharpest minds and the coldest hearts."

You stare at him for a while and then "damn you really did become philosophical"

He barks out a short, surprised laugh, shaking his head as he starts walking again, this time more aggressively. "Philosophical? Nah, just stating facts." He glances at you sideways, a mischievous glint in his eye. You shake your head and follow him to the class.

Over the next few days, Yeosang continues to act like your doting boyfriend, much to the confusion and entertainment of your classmates. He walks you to class, sits with you at lunch, and even "accidentally" brushes your hands during lessons.

After school one day, he suddenly grabs your hand and starts dragging you towards the nearby ice cream shop. When you resist, he stops and turns to face you with a stubborn expression. "Come on, I'm buying you ice cream. Don't make a scene."

"I don't want ice cream"

He ignores your protests, opening the door to the ice cream shop and practically pushing you inside. "you're getting it anyway, pick a flavour"

Eventually you were forced to have a large ice cream cone with chocolate and Butter scotch, your two favourite flavours.

You both start walking towards your house "I don't like when people spend money on me" He shrugs it off, "Too bad, I spent the money anyway." He says nonchalantly, walking beside you with his hands shoved in his pockets. As you get closer to your house, he pauses and looks at you sideways, "You going to invite me in now?"

He wants to come inside my house now?

"in my house? My mom's in the house"

He looks at the door for a bit, then "how about I talk to my future mom in law beforehand and ask for her daughter's hand in marriage now." and walk right in as you had unlocked the door. You run to stop him but the damage was already done.

Yeosang finds himself standing in a neat, tidy living room. A woman with short, dark hair and piercing eyes is sitting on the couch, reading a book. She looks up as he enters and her gaze locks onto him. For a moment, Yeosang is taken aback by the intensity of her stare.

You trail behind, shocked by the ongoing staring contest between them.

He clears his throat professionally, straightening his posture "Good evening ma'am. I'm Kang Yeosang, your daughter's classmate. I was hoping we could have a word." He maintains a polite, respectful tone despite his usual confident demeanor, feeling the weight of this mother's presence.

The woman closes her book and places it on the coffee table. She stands up slowly, her eyes never leaving Yeosang's face. "You're yeosang" she states, her voice cold and calculated. "Sit down," she instructs, gesturing to the chair across from her. He moves to sit down carefully, maintaining eye contact with her while keeping his body language respectful. His usual charm falters slightly in the face of her stern presence. "I promise, I have the best intentions with your daughter."

Your mom raises an eyebrow skeptically as she leans forward, elbows resting on her knees. "that's for me to decide"

Shit yeosang thinks.

He takes a deep breath, leaning back slightly and offering what he hopes is a disarming smile. "Of course, ma'am. I wouldn't dream of imposing or presuming anything." He glances around the room, noting that there are no family pictures nor unnecessary decor. Noticing the notably stern air and lack of familial photographs surrounding him, yeosang's confidence dips even further. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly wishing he had practiced this conversation in more depth. "I, uh... I truly care about her, ma'am."

"I understand that but what is it that you want?" Your mother asks him softly but with an underlying aggression.

He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I mean, ma'am, that I have developed strong feelings for your daughter. I respect and admire her greatly, and I would like the opportunity to pursue a relationship with her, with your blessing and guidance."

Honestly, if you had popcorn, you'd be very entertained. Kinda well if you exclude the part that you might get your ass whooped after he leaves creating a big mess. But you hold your breath.

Your mother's expression remains unreadable, her eyes scrutinizing Yeosang intently. "You're asking for my permission to date my daughter?" She asks flatly, her tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

he nods "yes ma'am"

She steeples her fingers, tapping her index fingers thoughtfully against her lips. "I see." She sits back in her chair, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Tell me, yeosang, how can I let my daughter be with you, if I don't know anything about your future, family. I don't want her to have a miserable life and for that you need to have a job"

"yes ma'am. That's why I have everything sorted out. Im good ataths and have dreams of persuing higher Education in it. if not I have intrest in becoming a professor. and if that fails as well, I have my father's company. but ofcourse, that is the last option"

Damn that was kinda hot. Wait, brain, wtf?

Your mother nods slowly, seeming to consider his words carefully. "A good education and a solid career path. Those are important things for a man to have." She pauses, her gaze drifting to the door for a moment before snapping back at him. "But tell me, yeosang"

"Are you prepared to handle the pressure and responsibilities that come with being in a relationship with my daughter? she has been severely depressed and suicidal for the past 8 years after her dad lost everything and committed suicide" Her voice is firm, leaving no room for argument.

You felt betrayed, by your own mother. You were shocked, hurt and mostly, sad that she exposed this. You were always reserved about your feelings, shutting them off from everybody. But hearing this made you felt exposed, naked almost

Yeosang's expression softens as he realizes the gravity of your situation. He leans forward earnestly, his eyes filled with sincerity and determination. "Ma'am, I understand completely. I know I'm asking for a big responsibility. But please believe me when I say that I'm ready to stand by your daughter through thick and thin. I have experience dealing with mental health issues, as my own aunt struggled with depression for years. I know it's not an easy path, but I'm committed to supporting and loving her unconditionally."

Your mother studies him intently, her hard exterior cracking slightly to reveal a glimmer of hope and relief in her eyes. "You're a good man, Yeosang. Most boys your age would run away screaming at the thought of dealing with something like this"

He shrugs and says something that made your eyes tear,

"I love her ma'am"

Your mother's expression softens further, a rare smile tugging at her lips. "I can see that you truly care for my daughter. That's the most important thing to me." She pauses, her mind made up. "You have my blessing to date my daughter, Yeosang."

AN: whooo I got this done guys clap in the comments. I hope y'all enjoyed this and if you did, please reblog so I can reach even more people. I love yalllll

[swimmingenthusiasty]

Woah. That phrase is nostalgic of school. Fucking stationary. Pencil case.

Every surface is fucking smooth. and flat. The tables the floors the board the field the court the path the brains.

The girls like steaming compost heaps inside uniform. Sterile, kept from dirt and dust, yet somehow gross. Warm and fixed in place behind a desk like the zits and pustules on their face. Insecure eyes darting side to side and only finding each other, other girls to judge. Like some type of layer in hell.

Loosing their shit over 'guys' who are all mummy's boys at that age. Yelling over their egos, mum flavoured cries for approval. Repeating mum's script. The asian one talking about a 'gud future' it was just what mum said. The stickler worried about safety was just mum's script. Literal fucking babies. With egos. Because those are the two things that mums make. Babies and egos. It's like full circle for the girls looking because nothing less conceited would have sufficed.

There's no patriarchy. Guys stop moving without egos. Without someone to hype them up. If guys want to function without girls, they will invent women amongst themselves to hype them up. If you want dad to keep going to work and mum does a shit job of hyping him up, you better find a way fast. Either you become like a girl and hype or you get used to making your own home. If she insists that you just can't do that and you can't say no because you're still a mommy's boy and her script overrides yours. Then I hope you like lacey stuff. There was one more thing. Oh, this is when I knew it was him. Women created guys like this because of the way they are with eachother. The way they compete and stuff but always indirectly, through a middle thing. That's why they made men.

This is brother's air. Before he leaves for work is when he has the most to give and he only gives when he sees something in my messages. Doesn't make it less true. I mean i don't know if it is fully correct. I'm like a windchime at this point. Anyone you put me near, I'll make a noise to their presence, to their movements, to the air they displace. Guys usually make writing happen though. Girls will make something actually happen.

If I really wanted I can take with me this feeling about -not being a guy's hype prop by releasing my concern for finances and a place to sleep, for stability. Not stability itself but my concern over it.

She wanted me to replace him in her life, to earn for her in his place and she'd go gut whatever he'd had left without holding back. Mistakes me for him often like it already happened in her mind. Like there was no need to ask. She put me between them when I was little and said I should defend when they fought. I think she also liked cucking when they were good. I think she's a bit gay the way she talks about little girls and women's thighs. I don't know if that means I got it from her, like passed down or if I reacted to how gross she was being. Anyway. All that to say that the next time I'll say 'okay burn the house down if you like' when she tries to make herself your problem (her moods and emotions are hers) or her lifestyle your fault (her lack of lasting friendships does not make you a mandatory friend forever, you're no different to all the other people who wouldn't want to stay) or insists her decisons are your decisons (all those times you say something and get ignored, it wasn't hard to hear what you said, she didn't forget that quick. It's up to you to decide how much respect you want) but then that's no way to practice having a house and any fight or playing up will get a crowd. It's hard to affirm without resorting to disrespect when someone is actually dismisive and disrespectful. I can see how their conversations always went the same. She got what she gave. Then that carries over into other conversations. Or you just feel a bit sad and resentful at real kindess, and i've seen it on my father's face. Like he's thinking oh I have to get used to this now? Where were you this whole time. You're only temporary, it's her shit that I'm used to, we'll be back in the shit and you'll be gone, so just be gone early as a favor. It's not just her. He attracted her from a lifetime of the same shits. It made him more than rough around the edges as a consequence and I've gone through all that's like and I wouldn't want to repeat what he felt or how he became. Input output. Change his input, don't have the same shit he had.

All this sympathy towards him. Told you it was the brother. He misunderstands that's why he thinks I need to think this stuff. I need these people to take back their issues. Him you can't tell him anything other than you're hurt, you need to work on yourself. You're allowed to tell someone enough and they should leave. You don't need a million and one ways to push people away. Some are really hurtful. She was at fault when you said enough and she just smirked that you reacted and looked a fool infront of your house. Now for her, you really can't tell her anything. That's why it's taken so long to peel her off. But being here is because he failed me. I went to him, to be my lifeline IF I needed the van sold. End of story. He betrayed himself so often that he just wanted someone else to take the shit. That's why he called her seconds after he hung up and promised me he wouldn't. That's not exactly why though. There's something severly damaged about him from that last disrespect. She went to his last respectable friendship source, the guy she couldn't dis, undisputed source of respectability amongst both of them and the guy called and shamed him. It's like how the guy at the end of 1984 broke. He will just do anything after that. To appease his opressor. My father had a right to a boundary that she could not cross. He is helping by staying away. He is preventing himself from further betrayal. He is of no use to either of us in this fight. Let me finish and if I betray myself it won't be his influence. Don't fuck bears next time pa pap.

Think of leaving and that's how I know brother's air is wrapping up. It always shows up at the end as what he wants. So stressed to see the car parked, room taken up. Doesn't make it the wrong decision necessarily. Im pretty sure i could sneak guys around in the morning. To help line her up. So they want the same thing. I couldn't get him to line up with her though. I can ask for more stuff, room back, more space in the garden, hang around the house a lot. Though I still think he'd stay and get more sabotagey. It's what he's practiced. More foreign for him to get a place. More familiar to ruin something that's around. I get nothing from a fight. I don't want to have the house, I don't like to be here all the time. I can visualise him moving out. Like he does. But again, for what? I would gladly exchange the feelings for them for something good towards myself. It's just that the best way to do that is not clear cut. Everyone did the best they could with what they had. You can't choose them. If however she chose you to be her backup financial plan that's something but not at all uncommon. If she fought hard to hold you back so she wouldn't be alone then that is also not unheard of in love.

It's about learning about these behaviours from others and knowing better and also, unfortunately, it's about undoing hangups they might have caused. If they weren't undoable, many unfortunate consequences are permanent. It becomes a question of acceptance and if you accept will it also define your direction? Will you do something with it, every. single. day.

Early bird gets the moon

Lake Elkhorn, Maryland.

📷: @zalman_waihaus

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader

— part ten

plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!

words: 1.9k (1967)

extra: it will probably become a multi part story, tell me if you're interested in a part eleven! I also realized that maybe I write shorter chapters better, so abandon the 2.5/3k word chapters

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

Since the parade had taken place you had completely returned to the path you were on, as if the hatred that so many had directed at you had dematerialized: on the one hand you appreciated this thing, but on the other it still made you so angry when you remembered how they had treated you. Many agencies, both German and foreign, had asked you to collaborate, but you had decided that for the moment you would only stay with TraumLaufsteg, which still had many answers to give you; you still wanted to understand what kind of relationship there was between Ursula and Gabriel, and how he was one of the founders. These were questions that tormented you at night, but for some time now you have been spending them more peacefully in Kaiser's arms, where you felt good

The media had begun to suspect the alleged relationship between you and the German prodigy, but beyond speculation there was obviously nothing confirmed. You and Michael were careful to keep things low profile, as complicated as it was for both of you. No one had yet understood that you had moved back in with him, and no one should have understood that now hugs weren't the only thing you exchanged

Michael had been on tour in the Berlin border areas for a week now, and for convenience he didn't come home, as much as he wanted to. You missed him, but he would be back in less than a few days, so you were happy. Life with Kaiser was going great, and that made you fall in love with him even more. The only problem was that Gabriel had suddenly started managing the company's models, including you: this meant being in contact with him more than necessary, and as much as I didn't want to, it was work

"Okay, one last time, whole runway" says the man sitting in his comfortable chair, while you and the other seven models return to the starting position. You had been doing the exact same thing since this morning only with different clothes, and if it hadn't been for the presence of your ex you would surely have been happier. You take a deep breath, taking the first position as the top model. You start walking, gaze fixed and movements flowing, swinging the wide skirt you had to wear as a test. You walk the entire length, reaching the tip where you put a hand on your hip, looking at the imaginary audience and then walking back, always with the same grace. The other models repeat the gesture taking their time, but you always feel Gabriel's gaze on you

He always looks at you, as if it were something that would make him breathe. Even when the attention should be on the other models, his gaze doesn't move from your figure, and you can't do much more than glare at him. Since he started working with you again, he has this toxic habit, which always makes you feel bad even though you haven't done anything. It gets worse when Ursula is with him, who occasionally attends the rehearsals next to the man: it makes you laugh a little how she tries to get his attention, failing miserably... and yet on the day of the show they seemed like best friends. Ursula doesn't talk much with her models, much less with you, so you don't know much about this woman who, in your opinion, knows a lot about you

"Okay ladies. Monica, more movement, you're modeling, not going shopping... and Iseut, more expressions, you have a cute face, use it. Also for our top model..." says the man, waking you up from your thoughts and noticing that everyone has modeled "Nothing to say, we all know she's a professional" he says giggling slightly, and while the others nod you want to do nothing more than go to him and strangle him. You hate his behavior, you hate everything about him and how he tries to flatter you every time. You'd be tempted to intentionally screw up everything to see his reaction, but at the same time it's not like you to ruin your always impeccable work for someone like that, unworthy of so much fame

You are about to leave the room to go to your dressing room and finally call your boyfriend, when you hear the doors of the rehearsal room open, and two video cameras enter followed by Ursula herself. You are surprised by this, because from what you knew from the other models in the agency access to the video cameras is prohibited

The cameras are roaming around the room, as you and the other models stare at them. You hear someone muttering something confused about this, and you don't know how to react even though you've been used to being in the spotlight for years now. You don't know why, but it stinks

Ursula stands next to Gabriel, and from the knowing smile they exchange you understand that the bomb you were waiting for is probably about to explode right now. The stylist's snake-like gaze looks you over, and a cold shiver runs down your spine as you watch the cameras finally settle in front of the two buddies, who are now scenographically side by side. You need to leave now, because the situation is feeling stranger by the second, and you don't like

"Welcome to the agency! Gabriel and I are very honored to be able to give you the opportunity to document life in the TraumLaufsteg, which for a long time has not given such a chance to anyone. Feel free to ask me and our models anything you have in mind" says Ursula in front of the first camera, while Gabriel nods "You have entered at the end of the shift of the models who will participate in the next fashion show, I was just taking care of that" he says charismatically, and the woman nods. One of the two video cameras is put down, while the man holding it comes in front of the screen, probably taking the place of the interviewer "Could you tell us more about the next show?" says the man "You can ask our models, they are ready to answer" says Gabriel, and the object moves towards you, catching you off guard. You and all the others know how to handle the situation, it is a quality that you have to acquire if you do this job, but it is still strange

The interviewer approaches, taking the girl at your side "Could you tell me how a normal shift goes?" he asks, and the woman shows off her best smile while improvising some cool answers, but in truth you don't listen to. Gabriel's oppressive gaze, now a few meters away from you, continues to stare at you with an almost maniacal smile, the same one that Ursula gives you. You gulp down a lump of saliva as you fix your hair, trying to ignore the situation. "How does it feel to walk with an internationally famous model?" the interviewer suddenly asks, and the woman remains silent for a few seconds, honestly not knowing how to respond. They all know who the man is referring to, and you can't help but smile at the camera filming you, one that actually hides a bit of anxiety and perplexity underneath

The woman remains silent, smiling nervously. The interviewer now turns to you, the microphone pointed at your mouth. “This would be the first interview you’ve had since the break” he says, and you nod. “It would have come sooner or later. You’ve obviously had more luck than the others” you say, trying to sound as nonchalant as usual. The man nods “You’re probably right. How does it feel to be back on the catwalk?” he asks “Oh, it feels great. I’ve missed doing the usual things, and going back to the catwalk was like getting some fresh air after keeping my face under water for too long” you say. The microphone shakes a bit "And why choose an agency right here in Germany? And then, such a small one" he says, and you understand why Gabriel was smiling before. You suspect that they are ready-made questions, that they are aimed at putting you in difficulty and make you look like an idiot

"Well, I moved to Germany a while ago, and starting again with an Italian agency would have been uncomfortable because of the country difference. I chose TraumLaufsteg because I saw potential, and I would say I made the right choice when I see the results of the last show" you say, using all the trump cards you can give. It's a smooth answer, but it doesn't reveal anything wrong, or at least that's what you think

"How coincidental, however, to choose TraumLaufsteg, which is precisely the agency where Gabriel is the founder. Is there something in between this choice? After all, there has been a lot of chaos between your boyfriend and you in the last few weeks" says the man, and finally you understand that it is all a trap from the beginning, designed only to advance the main topic, that is, you and Gabriel. You see an immense satisfaction in the man, and you can't help but want to kill him

"There is absolutely no correlation between my choice and the situation you are talking about, since my ex and I are no longer together. I saw potential in the TraumLaufsteg without asking myself too many questions about who the founders were" you say in a serious tone, one that has the aim of not letting anything but your disgust transpire. The interviewer looks surprised, as does Gabriel who leaves Ursula's side, taking steps towards you. You watch him approach, feeling yourself suffocated with each step that brings you closer. He comes to your side, making his way through the models, putting his arm around your waist. Your eyes widen, moving to step aside, but his firm grip doesn't let you move. He smiles at the camera, as if nothing's wrong. If he wants to play like a jerk he's doing it perfectly

"My Y/n is just kidding, we all know in the industry how her humor can almost seem truthful. I don't know what's going on in her head, I just know that we are definitely not exes" he says playfully in front of the camera, which frames the two of you while you are doing everything you can to keep him away. You look at him disgusted, like you have never looked at anyone before. He wants to change the story every time to suit his own convenience, first calling you a traitor and now again calling you his girlfriend

It only takes a second for you to feel his lips crush yours. Your blood runs cold as you feel the sickening sensation you had forgotten and that had comforted you for so many years. He lingers on your lips, feeling them as he always has. You move to pull away, but it's no use because of his firm grip. You would like to cry, slap him, push him as far away from you as possible, but you can't do anything but remain perplexed by the gesture, appearing in front of the camera like a dead person. Now that you've gotten used to only Kaiser's lips, why do you feel those who have only spoken badly of you?

"See? Couple as always" says Gabriel, joking with the interviewer. You watch it disgusted, and everyone on television could tell that you were clearly not comfortable. Because yes, unbeknownst to you this was live nationally

And a certain blond German soccer player was watching the scene in his cold hotel room

tag(s): @rroxii ; @kittenish0 ; @bungoustraydogsno1fan (if you want to be tagged tell me!)

[yanderenightmare]

Do you normally get any 'ew, you're disgusting' shit in your inbox? I just now posted my first incest fic and got one like 'i hope you don't have any siblings lalala'. Prior to that, I was like "how do these authors go untouched by antis?" but then I realised that it was a tad bit naive of me lol. I was going to respond with a taunt but decided to just delete it because it wasn't worth the effort.

Are they frequent and are they easy to ignore?

On Dealing with Hate

Good question! I was actually going to make a post on this, as others have asked me the same thing, so here we go!

♡ Personal experience!

I get my fair share of hate from time to time—more often when I publish things that are more taboo than other excepted things—for example, like you say, incest, as well as bestiality, wide age gap, born-sexy-yesterday readers, etc.

It's an odd thing, as haters will often accept the fact that I write rape for titillation but will take issue with these other tropes. But anyway, we can talk about the nonsensical opinions of haters all day, but it wouldn't really do us any good.

So, here's my advice.

♡ First off, accept that haters are gonna hate!

Some people won't like what you write. And that's fine. The problem is that they feel the need to tell you that—at which point, you'll just have to console yourself by telling yourself that no decent person would be rude to a total stranger whom they don't know the first thing about and, therefore, whatever they have to say warrants neither second thought nor reply.

With that being said, however...

♡ You gotta do what feels right!

Engage or don't engage, do what you need to feel at peace. Sure, you can be the so-called bigger man and ignore all the meanies, but you absolutely don't have to!

Of course, we can be cool as cucumbers and say, "Not worth the effort," but who are we kidding? This is Tumblr, and you're allowed to rant when you want in whatever manner you want!

So, if you feel you gotta bite back to maintain your sanity, then that's what you should!

However, I do believe there's a way to go about it!

♡ Never go to bed angry!

This is my personal advice, but if you ever choose to acknowledge hate or critique, do so with tact and with based and factual arguments instead of slinging heated insults in return.

This way, you walk away from the fight feeling good about what you've said and not worse off than before. In other words, don't stoop down to their level.

I actually feel in many ways that answering hate can be rather therapeutic this way, as you've succesfully turned something negative into soemthing positive!

♡ The difference between hate and critique!

Actually doesn't matter. You're not really obligated to answer either if you don't want to.

But for the sake of differentiating the two: "Ew, you're disgusting" is hateful slander, but "Incest is wrong, and you're actively condoning it by writing what you write" is a genuine critique.

And it bears repeating, you don't have to address either because you don't owe anyone anything.

People are entiteld to their opnions just as much as you're free to disagree, and ignore if you want!

But something I've found is that explaining it to those who don't understand why we write such things, and furthermore why people want to read it without being interested in such things in real life, is actually quite a rewarding thing to do!

And by that, I mean it might make your critics and haters understand and rethink their comments, but it can also help your existing fans deal with their own similar self-loathing, and lastly, it's even great for your own mental health for when you yourself doubt your own mental standing!

Personally, in regard to the example I used above, when I get hit with the "you're condoning this and that" I just play the argument that those who play violent videogames aren't condoning the killing carried out by their avatar. Naturally, when roleplaying a fictional version of ourselves, we're not actually playing as ourselves.

Some people have a very hard time understanding this for some reason.

But anyway, moving on.

♡ Final advice!

Ignore and delete any and all the dumb, off-handed comments you feel like. If and when you want, return their rudeness with a cheeky smile and a slap on their ass. Be as cordial as you can be but as sassy as you feel you must—like an aged Queen who drinks her fair share of likewise wine.

But whatever you do, don't ever make things personal!

Though that's also my personal advice. I think, by making personal attacks, you're not being factual anymore, and you'll only feel worse for it. And by personal attacks, I mean calling people ignorant, dumb, awful, etc. You can, of course, say that their chosen words were in ill taste, but going after them themselves won't make you feel better. So, I'd suggest avoiding it.

Anyway, hope this helps!

[captainquake42]

> ♡ °. INKED UP

♡ four

☆ kwon jae sung x fem!reader

summary:

You go out to a bar with your team and kwon sees an opportunity.

OR reader teaches kwon a few moves

notes:

I can't dance so I did my best describe it.

Also, if you are the person who asked me to write a fic of the reader getting hurt. I accidentally deleted your request, but that is something that i'm working on a little bit.

part one // prev part

1.1k written by:

S A R A H

You sat with Sam and Robby a table away from Dimitri and Eli. The bar buzzed with music and chatter, but you were more focused on your water (you didn’t like drinking, same as Robby, and pop was off-limits during the season—you were strict about keeping your body in peak condition). Sam and Robby were deep in conversation about Tory and Miguel, their voices low but laced with tension.

“ I hope Carmen is okay.” Robby said idly, spinning his straw in his glass “ Did you talk to Miguel before they left?”

Sam shugs, “ for like thirty seconds. We were excited to go exploring but now…” 

You nudged your twin with an elbow. “ You feel any better?” 

He scoffed, his lips curling into a humorless smile. “ No, honestly I'm actually thinking of adding rum to this coke.”

Sam smiled a little thinking he was kidding. “ Yeah right you don't drink.” 

Robby’s gaze dropped to his drink, his fingers tightening around the glass. “ might be the time to start, I've been screwing everything up since Tory put us on break and it's not even affecting her.” 

“ Like salt on an open cut.” 

“ Yeah, she's fighting better than ever.” 

 Sam leaned forward letting her arms rest on the table. “ Tory chose the other side and I feel terrible for her but we can't keep letting her get in our heads like this. We just have to accept she's against us.” 

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “ You guys are acting like we're at war, she's not against us.” You said with a shake of your head. “ She picked a different team because she was vulnerable, and a master manipulator took advantage of that. It’s not that simple. You of all people know that, you were talking about it last night.” 

Sam stared over your shoulders without replying, her facing falling. “ I'm gonna get some air.” She said getting up. 

Both you and Robby turned confused  following her gaze to the door. That’s when you saw them—Tory, Kwon, and a few of their teammates walking in, looking every bit like they owned the place.

Kwon stared at you and gave you a little nod. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he made his way across the bar.

Your back straightened unconsciously, and you had to put your hands in your lap to stop yourself from messing with your hair. 

Kwon stopped beside you, his smirk growing wider. “ Hey,” he said smoothly, his eyes locking with yours. “ Dance with me?”

Before you could say anything, Robby’s chair scraped back as he stood abruptly, squaring his shoulders. “ She’s not interested.”

Kwon barely glanced at Robby, he only had eyes for you. “ I’m pretty sure she can speak for herself, man.”

“ Robby cool off, it's fine.” You said, trying to defuse the situation.

Robby frowned, his jaw tight, but he didn’t say anything else.

“What do you say?” Kwon asked, his voice low enough that it felt like the rest of the room disappeared.

You hesitated, glancing at Robby, who was still standing stiffly. Then you looked back at Kwon.

“ Okay,” you said, taking his hand.

Kwon’s smirk turned into a genuine smile as he led you to the small dance floor at the center of the bar. “ I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“ Why?” You looked up at him.

“ You don’t like disappointing your team.” He huffed. 

“ One dance won’t kill them.”

“ Just one?” He teased, slipping an arm around your waist. “ I plan to keep you here all night.” 

You felt your cheeks get warm, but put an arm around his neck anyway. “ One,” you repeated, though your lips twitched into a smile. 

“ Counter offer, ten and a kiss.” He said with a sly grin. 

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes went wide. “ Damn you got a drink in you already?” 

“ Nah don’t drink in season.” 

“ That right?”

He hummed swaying with you to the beat. “ That’s right.” 

“ Five and I teach you how to two-step and a shoulder dip.”

“ Deal.” He said almost before you could finish talking. “ Sounds like you know your stuff.”

“ My mom used to take me and Robby to bars all the time, I learned a few things.” You took both his hands and held them up by your sides. “ A two step is easy, all you do is step forward with your left foot, then follow with your right foot. Then go back, right foot first and repeat.”

“ Just go back and fourth?”

“ Yep, super simple.” 

So that’s what you did, a back and forth two step until he seemed to get bored and spinning you. “ Alright now show me the other one.” 

“ Okay,” you laughed. “ First thing, take my hand,” he did. “ Now you're going to spin me out, away from you.” 

He did as told, spinning you out and pulling you back in, “ Like that?” He asked. 

“ Just like that,” You encouraged. “ But when you pull me back, spin me in twice, so towards your body.” 

He did both steps again. 

“ Perfect next cross your arm over and slide while I drag my hand around your back.” You explained while showing the moves you were talking about. “ Now I do a half spin so my back is facing you and I am going to fall.”

“ A trust fall?”

“ Yes. There is more but I don’t think your ready to carry me on your shoulders.”

He scoffed playfully, “ I can, promise.”

“ Swear you won’t drop me?”

“ Yes.” He says, “ what’s the saying?”

“ Cross my heart?”

“ And hope to die, yes that one.”  

“ Okay in that case, grab my waist.” He did. “ I’m going to jump onto your shoulders, on three ready?”

“ Yes.” He effortlessly picked you up, and ducked his head under your spit legs. 

“ Next I’m going to swing my left leg around and you are going to keep hold of my right, when I do that my body will fall into your arms while I keep an arm around the back of your neck to support you. When we both are standing again you will spin me one more time with the hand you have around my thigh. Got it.”

“ Understood.” He yelled back over the music. 

“ Ready?”

“ Yep.” He confirmed. 

You did everything you said you were going to, albeit a little clumsy, with it being his first time, but at least he didn’t drop you like the guy who taught you did. He was spotting Robby, who was holding you, the two of you were only ten and thought it’d be a cool trick to show mom. Instead you got your first concussion, and Robby broke his nose when he fell face first into the floor.

Kwon steadied you as you spin back to him, his arm loosely draped around your waist. His grin was wide and infectious, “ real speed this time?”

He didn’t wait for your answer before he spun you out and back in while you giggled.

[clubsmarties]

"High school didn't date. With both sisters partnered up, it didn't seem fun. I didn't even go to my own prom. When I tell you I was a homebody, I swear I'm not kidding. College, eh there was a girl who asked to go on a date but I didn't go. Trust didn't come easy to me. Which I guess looking back did seem like I was an asshole but I kept people at a distance. Worst nightmare was people getting to know me at the time. Quantico couldn't date there were rules and other stupid shit. I'm trying to remember a time," frankly trust issues prevented him from going for it most of the times. "Alright, I guess camp could count. I was six and this other girl was seven. Technically guess it counts as a first kiss. But I don't actually count it since right after she threw me in the pool at night. It was a peck so really not this big deal. Falling in love before you? No, can't say that I had. You came in like a whirlwind and had me on my knees." His smile told her everything she needed to know. "No, never had a parents talk either. I had one with my sisters husbands when they wanted to get engaged but not the other way around."

He hummed as he laughed in a response. "It was but this girl was boring with a capital boring. The dullest human I think ever. I was also young and dumb so really could just blame that." Who didn't do shit they weren't proud of in their youth. He turned just in time to wipe her eyes softly and brought his thumb down to her lips and laughed when she kissed his cheek.

The initial moment had him frowning and relaxing his eyebrows. A smile so striking took over his features as he heard her full name and mulled it over. "Elizabeth Sóley Bordeaux." he repeated softly. The last name slipping past his lips. "That is perfect." Now he wasn't going to lie. He could see her as his wife. If that was something she could also see. Sharing her life with his.

Watching her sitting up he smirked. "Oh, is that so? So no on well behaved wally on this trip then? Interesting. There is such a thing as a mile high club. First class bathrooms are a lot more spacious." The reason he knew that was now forever imprinted in his mind forever. He knew once he got her on the ghost adventures guy she'd have something to say which always made him chuckle. Though now he stayed quiet letting her go at it. Her reasoning made sense. "Maybe we should send one of those island elves over to this dudes house. Get him a dicky trickster. Seem to be the same."

He started to laugh and shook his head. "Scouts honor no inadequate feelings here. I mean you don't leave unsatisfied so must be doing something right." He bumped her shoulder and smiled. "Come on, besides we can totally make super inappropriate jokes. That's where the fun lies." Getting himself in a measuring contest with dicks made him laugh. He grabbed her hand and shot up from his seat. "We're first to get in." His eyes widened as he showed the attendant his phone and heard them beep the screen. Then were told to have a safe flight. He hummed and thanked them and rolled his bag down. Reaching the plane and the awaiting flight attendants smiles greeting them. He eyed the first seat which looked more like beds than actual seats. "Ladies choice," he let go of her hand and waited for her to take her seat.

"No.” She scoffed but with a smile. “ I get not recently but what about in high school? College? You're going to tell me you never dated and fallen in love before? Never had to do the meeting of parents or had to the what are your intensions with my child, talk?" While she had never had done these personally herself there were plenty she had to pretend through. It wasn't as if she was trying to fish some sort of sordid affair from him, it was just her trying to know more about the man he loved.

At his story though she looked at his hand. She had pretended a lot of things to get out of various situations but stabbing herself with a utensil never crossed her mind before. "That seems rather extreme." The next words that came from him though, had her hazel eyes gleam with tears, adoration. Love. There was never going to be enough words, gestures, anything in the world that could ever say how much she loved him. So for now, she settled on a small kiss, leaning over and placed it on his cheek.

"You got that all wrong," her tone serious as she settled her head on his shoulder. "I have no idea who Elizabeth Bordeaux is or could be. It sounds all wrong." Watching more people come and go. She had never thought about marriage, even considered it a part of her future one day, but here she was. Like a school girl thinking about her having the same last name as her crush. Though they might not marry, the reason for this trip was at the forefront of him. There was no one else she would ever do this with, consider doing this with. Releasing a small sigh she spoke again. "Elizabeth Sóley Bordeaux, now that one rolls off the tongue a bit better. If I do say so myself."

Sitting up, she shook her head, it was no surprise that she was excited and ready to read the new novel in her possession now. The distractions that Wally provided though, were very tempting and she did enjoy them. "That sounds highly unlikely." Raised eyebrow. "What if I wanted you on your worst behavior?" It was a tease, not like they could do much on the plane full of people anyway.

"Ghost adventures?!" Elizabeth despised that man. Having accidentally seen an episode when she was channel surfing once, she absolutely hated him. Could see past the facade the man put up about being able to channel the other side or other beings. "That fake wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a marmennill, selkie or a mermaid! Anyway," a slight roll of her eyes. "On the island elves are believed to go home from home offering gifts but if you accept them, it causes madness. So its best not to. So technically they are all dicky."

The thought of them going to the museum had her smiling like a fool. "The musuem gets some thing wagging. We can go as long as you don't feel...," she thought over the right word to say but could only giggle when she continued. "Inadequate after, we can consider it. Men don't tend to like to see how they size up to others. There's also lots of museums and we can always go back to see them all."

Hearing another overhead call for another flight boarding, she nudging his shoulder playfully. "Is that us?" She was slightly anxious, ready to embark on this adventure to find that 'right moment.'

[sirxlla]

Deja Vu

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

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

Prompt: Part 2 to Past Misunderstandings, Tyler getting the reader to go around a horses again

Notes: gender of reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

It had been about six months since the rodeo incident and you and Tyler had fell back into that 'Peas in a Pod' attitude. The two of you inseprible again, Layin in the back of his truck in the middle of his dad's damn near ten acres. His feet played with yours, his cowboy boots pushing against yours.

Tyler didnt know exactly what had happened to Moonshine due to the fact he left and the fact you both didnt talk to eachother. He was curious asked about the gunsmoke colored horse and you told him what happened....

Bobcats weren't overly or exceedingly uncommon for the area but they usually stayed away from livestock in this area due to a lot of the farmers killing them or scaring them off with shotguns.

Unfortunately, a few years back one of them ran straight right for your horse, of course your sweet boy got scared and tried to buck you, a foot stayed trapped in the stirrup for a few feet before you came loose.

Regrettably, for you and Moonshine the bobcat kept going right after that horse, that sweet horse you'd had for damn near almost your whole life. There was nothing you could do but leave him because as soon as they had latched onto his backside another came out of nowhere and went for the neck...All you could do was save yourself. Everyday you wished there was something more you could have done.

After you explained what happened to Tyler he rubbed your back with a sad sympathetic expression on his face.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Tiny. You loved that horse..." He smiles as a memory crosses his mind as he gazes at the clouds.

"You remember when we took him out to that field after we ditched school and we laid in the grass on that blanket all day. It was cloud watching, right?"

You smiled sadly, you know Tyler was just trying to make you feel better. Tyler always had a habit of knowing exactlt what to say to distract you.

"You cant say every cloud looks like a penis!" A laugh left your throat as you repeated what you had said to him, it wasnt just cloud watching...your had head spent that whole day on Tyler's bicep cuddled into him like he was your favorite teddy bear, not too different from how you were now.

The way your eyes light up just made Tyler feel so much better about how you felt right now over Moonshine. His heart swelled at the laugh that left you, music to his ears. He was so glad to have you back.

"Hey, I know you might not be ready for it but...My dad's just came into possesion of a horse who's really skiddish and he can't get her to come near anyone. I know your dad's horse Whiskey was pretty skiddish when y'all got him and you were the only one that got him out of that shell, you and your dad...Uncle's (You both called eachothers dads Uncle cause of the way you both grew up together) tried with this horse and she just wont budge. My dad asked me to ask you if you'd try."

"What's wrong with her?" You looked up at Tyler with a bit of worry as you spoke.

"He said something about her buckin' and stompin'. I think he also said something about her tryna bite." Tyler massaged your scalp as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"Yeah...I can. I can try." You told him with a bit of nervousness in your voice. Not only were you scared with how wild this horse seemed but letting a horse in seemed bittersweet after Moonshine. Cantaloupe (your brother's horse) was different cause you'd known that horse all your life but you know Tyler's dad and he wouldn't stop tryna break this horse, if done wrong he'd hurt her or himself bad at least.

A few days passed and Tyler picked you up and got you to his dad's farm. This barn was the same from that night but now the memory was fond because you knew it really had meant something to Tyler. He winked in acknowledgment of the spit you two had done it, which earned a blush from you.

You held Tylers hands with nerves as he guided you down to the horse, every step closer and noise that was made riled the horse up even more. You squeezed his hsnd with nerves, you knew horses like this were dangerous. Tyler's dad slammed something down in pure anger as he left the stable, his eyes fell on you. He had a black eye which you assumed was from the horse.

"TT, if you can get that damn horse to calm down then you can have the damn thing. I've had it up to here with the damn bitch!" Tyler's dad wasnt one to curse a lot but he was clearly pissed as he stomped off.

"You dont have to do this, Tiny." Tyler told you, he was clearly nervous about this after seeing his dad the way he was and hearing the commotion inside the stable.

"If I dont then what happens to her? Huh?" You asked, it was like all nerves had been stripped away and you went into savior mode. This was how you were when you were younger, determined and didnt back down from a challenge.

"Okay." He backed down cause he knew how you were, he grew up with you like this and it was good to see you step back into yourself.

You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes before opening them on exhale. You slowly slipped into that stable. 'Oh, she way beautiful' you thought, a Leopard pattern to her fur. She looked at you like you were a challenge but as soo as you saw that you bowed you head and bowed infront of her.

"Hey...Hey, Beauty....It's alright...It's okay, Mama. I aint here to hurt you." You spoke softly and stayed in place by the door. Invading her personal space without permission is clearly what Tyler's dad fucked up on.

"I know, Uncle was an asshole. He came ib here acting like he owns the place." You said with a smile, that day you didnt even get close enough to touch her. As much as you loved your uncle, he could be impaitent.

As weeks passed you and her got closer as did you and Tyler. You and Tyler had started sleepin at eachothers places, innocent little kisses and hugs turned into showers together. The two of you didnt have sex or anything, it was just intimate and close. His body pressed to yours as you leaned your head back as he pulled you closer to him with his arm around your torso.

You got closer and closer to this horse, your 'uncle' had given the horse to you. When she was ready for it you had saddled her up and rode around with her.

Tyler had been asking after the beautiful white and black spotted horse so you introduced her to him, made him go slow and respectful and before you knew it she'd cuddle her face onto Tyler's arm to get him to pet her.

Tyler was so damn proud of you, he pulled you close to him and kissed you deeply pushing you against that same interior wall of the barn like he did in highschool but this was more. It was more languid and passionate, your hands found his face as he kissed you.

"We doing this again?" You asked against his lips with a smile and whisper.

"You wanna do this again, Tex?" He asked just to make sure you he wasnt pressuring you.

Your eyes flitted back and forth as they ran through the possiblities, 'Was this a good idea? Should I?'

Masterlist

[blood-starved-beast]

So I've been thinking.

Icarus and Arachne clearly have some situationships going on (Arachne's is triggered when Mel gives her ambrosia and it looks to be mutual unless something else changes). They are both shades LIs (2)

Eris and Nemesis both clearly also have situationships with Melinoe. They are both female god LIs and daughters of Nyx (2).

Moros is highly implied (like the foreshadowing is very thick) to be a potential LI for Melinoe. He is a male god and son of Nyx (1). If we look at the pattern going on so far, we're missing one male god love interest. Who could that be?

Now, it's entirely possible that it's a god not yet included in Early Access and has to be patched in with development. But also. Melinoe has had a parasocial relationship with Hypnos going on since forever. She gives him great reverence/interest with him. She clearly is into babygirl" men. It would be wild, and I say wild, if the final male LI established is Hypnos. Once you wake him that is.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I hope everyone whos walked behind me today has acknowledged the fact ive just been staring at rivals magneto for the past hour

[jujutsustraycats]

I'm not as nice as Nami is. I'm not, so don't expect anything too flowery or sweet or diabetes inducing. But I am here for you if you ever need it. And you will undoubtedly need someone in the next two years, and beyond that.

I know you said you're not going on the usual charade of... Competitive exams, that most of the country likes. And that's already a good sign for you. But science is hard. It will be. Your grades might plummet into the fucking ground, or they might slightly waver. And that's OK. It's not the end of the world.

I don't really want to get too personal, but I was a pretty.. good student lmao. Until grade 11 I had a rep for being that student who got a 95+ on every single test without studying. I'd open my books the day before the exam, and pass with a 99 with no effort whatsoever. Yeah, I was that asshole.

You won't be able to do that in 11th and 12th. Or ever again, really. Prepare yourself for that. If you are like me, and don't study until the final day and expected to get a 99, change that right now. It won't happen.

Now, it's going to be about consistency. Smaller efforts, but good ones, spread across every day. Your routine matters. The amount of sleep you get, the stuff you eat, the way you work through your day, everything will matter now. And not just for now, for ahead, too. So make sure you take care of your body, and your mind.

Work, but don't overwork. Have fun, but don't ignore your responsibilities for it. Nami's message mentions chaotic fun— I wasn't that type of person, not really. My fun was cool writing or drawing. Chatting with the people I love. Video gaming. And it's lovely! I'm not going to tell you how to have fun. But you should, because those moments of laughter will carry you through these years.

You're going to make friends, lose friends, make enemies and forget enemies. It'll happen. But the connections you make now will impact the course of your life for the next two years. When you enter conversations, do so with conviction. Know what you think and feel, and don't sway. Listen to opinions but don't let them take over your brain without cross checking it with your own thoughts first.

I hope you have people you can depend on. If nobody else, you have me and Nami. We're here for you.

Adults will tell you a lot, over the course of these two years. Listen to everything, but listen to it with a critical ear. You're capable of knowing what is and isn't important to you, personally. Stick to your guns, but be open to new suggestions. People will make personal quips at you, and they will hurt. Let them. But don't let them stick onto your being and pollute your awareness of yourself.

Mmm.. I don't really have anything else to say, not in particular. I know South India is a lot different to where I'm at rn, so my experiences will not be the same as yours. But I get it. I do, and so you can shoot me an ask or a DM anytime. I will be more than happy to help. Whether it's homework or just a vent, go for it, okay?

And above all, don't look back at what used to be, and what might have been.

When you take decisions, take them with consideration of all the information you have on hand right now. And once you've taken it, don't look back. Maybe later, with extra information, you will regret what you chose. It can happen. But you should be able to look back, and tell yourself, "No. I made that decision after considering everything I knew then. And so I do not regret the choice I made then."

You'll hear this a lot, but a set routine really really helps. I disagree with Nami, I don't think you will need late nights or overworking if you set yourself a routine. My routine changed depending on my schedule for the next day, but always make sure you get a minimum of 6 hours of sleep and some exercise, okay? It'll take you a long way.

And above all.

Anything, really.

Nothing else matters.

But be kind to yourself.

:)

I'm smiling so much with tears in my eyes. Again.

Thank you so much, Lune. Really. I appreciate this so much.

[whoblewboobear]

Staring down that weird feeling of feeling like too much or out of place or annoying if I say too much or say things too loud or too off-putting to be like- WANTED in any given social situation. To try so hard to socialize just to- idk. I’d very much like to stop defaulting to that scared kid that was pushed away or talked over until I got old enough and desperate enough to say any and every rapid fire thought that comes to mind. Like filling space when there’s dead air then wondering if maybe I did the Too Much™️ thing again and A. Scared everyone away or B. Pushed everyone away so it would hurt less when they leave BC of A.

Of feeling like I need to be useful or smart or talented or pretty or SOMETHING worthwhile so people want me around. I can just be but then it’s like just being has never been enough for anyone to like- stay. Or care. Running is always a mistake bc it’s like riiiight.. no one noticed you ran, babe. You’re not even at the top of their list people to want around. And just feel so low about it that I talk myself into feeling miserable again.

I’m happy, ive been so much happier lately and i dont take it for granted bc it’s so rare that things go okay or that there’s a sense of peace for a moment. I’m creating again and im less hard on myself about it. I have hobbies again, I’m making friends. And still I’m like seeing the other foot start to drop in real time bc it’s like. You’re in, but are you? That constant nagging voice that sounds so much like my own going “lonely again? Good you deserve it”

[cottoncandywhispers]

i’m going to be very real with you guys i’m so lonely in this!!!! i’m trying so hard!!!! still !!!! no one cares!!!! you’re on your own kid, you always have been!!! i’m trying to think positive about it!!!! but it’s hard!!!!

[moe-broey]

Idk if I'm gonna be able to articulate this on the fly like first thing in the morning, but. I think my ENTIRE body of work is This: Examining how family ties, bonds or lack thereof, the good and bad AND ugly, seep into every facet of who we are and how we come to interact with others. How sometimes, a family tie (or again, a Lack of one), will sometimes bleed into how you act and treat specific people. Will bleed into how you CONNECT with those people (or, will be the very reason you fail to do so).

HOWEVER. HOWEVER. THERE IS A DELICATE LINE. A BALANCING ACT. You CANNOT just simply attribute fanon flavored ideas of found family to such characters. That's too simple, and sometimes, is a complete disservice to the specific character you're working with. I am once again bringing up Chilchuck. YES, him being a dad Absolutely seeps into how he treats his party. But if you call him the party's dad, you're Insane. Do you know ANYTHING ABOUT THAT MAN???? He would prefer you didn't. But I digress. He strikes a fascinating balance, between having The Qualities and ESPECIALLY expressing his care for his party in a Really Specific divorced (separated.) father of three fashion, but that does Not make him a "dad friend". He's a professional. He's on business. He's going home at the end of the day, and at the end of this adventure he's thinking of setting up a shop. I wanted to keep this more vague and broad but like. The Chilchuck example REALLY DOES perfectly articulate What I'm trying to get at, here. He's the perfect encapsulation of How his family shapes him, how that bleeds into his relationships with others, vs Who he is as a person.

How we were raised, our family ties, whether you adhere to it or you've fallen FAR from the tree -- you still fell from that stupid fucking tree. It's in your blood. Literally. It gave you shape, whether you liked it or not. And sometimes some things just set off weird domino effects, that also affect us irrevocably forever.

WHICH IS. TO SAY. I have no fucking idea what I'm talking about. I'm always trying to figure that out. Found family is/can be real, you're not strictly bound by blood if you don't wanna be. BUT. The bullshit I'm constantly on, is trying to figure out how to balance all that without slotting everyone into reductive roles. I'm gay and I seek to destroy the nuclear family. Not attempt to recreate nuclear family 2.0. You CAN reconstruct What Family Is/Means from the ground up, but you have to accept that things are going to get Weird. Because you're Queer. You are fundamentally incompatible with the status quo and normalcy, the solution is NOT assimilation and palatability, the solution is to just. Get weirder. And be fluent in canon. Okay. I love you

[icewindandboringhorror]

Found a very cool pastel cat sweater at the bins but I have literally nothing that matches it well, so I always struggle to make outfits with it lol