#and i’m not gonna watch it by myself i know at this point this is an experience i need to be subjected to y’know?

[zyhkoo]

🎸 lovers rock

jason x f!reader, 18+, situationship, smut, afab!reader, angst

( he’s so sick of this, yet he cannot get enough )

Jason Todd has known you for a long time. The two of you were friends, or so he thought. Though, he tried his hardest to make something happen— but it just didn’t work and he gave up.

Sometimes, you would get his hopes up a bit and then back to the friend status it is. Jason didn’t know why he would give so much just for you. Sometimes, you would be the person he loved or hated the most in the world. Though he does not understand why he cannot let you go.

There was a family party in the Wayne manor, and since you were close to the family you were of course; invited. Board games were scattered on the floor, Stephanie and Cass were sleeping on the couch, Dick and Tim were somewhere else while you and Jason were in his bedroom.

He didn’t let just anyone in his old childhood bedroom, this room had many memories he’d like to forget or have trouble remembering. And now he was here, with you. You were a bit drunk, just for safe measures— Jason didn’t let you come home.

You were flipping through photo albums while Jason played soft music through his speakers. Jason sat across the bed with a slight frown on his face as he watched you carefully flip through the pages of his photo albums. He felt a mix of nostalgia and discomfort, but your presence provided a strange comfort in the midst of it all.

He took a sip of his drink, swirling the amber liquid within. He could hear a chuckle escaping your lips, “If you drink more, you’re gonna get a bad hangover.” Jason rolled his eyes at your comment.

"You know me well enough to know that a hangover wouldn't stop me from doing anything." He replied, tipping his glass back and taking another swig.

He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze drifting back towards you. "I can handle my alcohol just fine," he added defiantly. "Besides, it's not like I plan on doing much tomorrow anyway."

Jason leaned back further into the headboard, his gaze still fixed on you as he observed your expressions as you browsed through the memories captured in those photos. He wasn’t sure himself what he was feeling. A mix of nostalgia, confusion, and something else he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol.

Jason's mind was a turmoil of emotions. He knew he should feel angry, frustrated with your constant hot-and-cold behavior. But there was also a conflicting sense of happiness at having you here, being in the same room as him.

He clenched his jaw, trying to sort out his thoughts, but the alcohol wasn't helping. He let out a sigh, looking at you once more, watching as you chuckled at one of the photos.

“Hey, scoot over. Look at this.” you said. Jason rolled his eyes but moved over, making room for you on the bed. He settled back against the headboard, he watched you excitedly find a particular photo in the album. You sat down beside him, holding the photo out for him to see.

He leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he peered down at the image. “You’re so cute here.” you pointed out.

It was a picture from many years ago, back when he was a scrawny kid in his early teens. In the photo, he was wearing a Batman onesie, a wide grin on his face as he posed awkwardly next to a younger Bruce.

"Right," he grumbled, taking another swig of his drink, trying to hide his embarrassment. You frowned, “Hey, don’t drink too much.” Jason rolled his eyes, although secretly appreciating your concern.

"Relax, I'm just enjoying myself a bit," he assured you,there was an edge of defensiveness in his voice, as if he was trying to prove something.

You scoffed, “I’m serious.” Jason let out a huff of frustration, his defense crumbling under your concerned gaze. "And I'm serious about being able to handle myself," he retorted, his voice growing a bit heated. "I don’t need you mothering me."

You mirrored his annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm not trying to mother you. I'm just trying to look out for you." You replied, your own voice rising slightly. "You don't always have to pretend like you're invincible."

Jason's jaw tightened at your words, the familiar feeling of frustration towards you growing within him again. He knew you were right, but he hated how you always seemed to know what was best for him, even when he didn't want to admit it.

"I'm not an idiot," he replied tightly, his eyes flickering away from yours. You sighed, “Sorry for snapping.” Jason looked over at you, his expression softening a bit at your apology. He knew you meant well, even if sometimes you drove him crazy.

"It's alright," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I do get a bit carried away sometimes."

A moment of silence passed between you two, the air still filled with a hint of tension. Jason couldn't help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye, taking in your features, the way your hair fell over your shoulders. For a moment, he felt the urge to reach out and touch you, but he stopped himself, reminded of the complicated situation between you two.

As the first light of sunrise began to peek through the curtains, Jason couldn't help but notice the time had passed.

"Looks like sunrise is here," he mused, his voice low. “Everyone is probably passed out downstairs by now." Jason glanced over at you, he knew what you meant. This moment between you two, sharing a bed, talking in low, soft voices while the early morning light filtered through the curtains. It was a surreal moment, one he didn't want to end, but he knew it was temporary.

“This doesn’t look real.” you muttered. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said, his eyes fixated on your face, trying to memorize every feature. You sighed as you leaned your head on the pillows, “Are you sick of me?”

The question surprised him. It was one he had asked himself many times, but hearing it from you made everything feel even more complicated.

"No," he said, his voice firm. "I could never be sick of you." He wasn't sure why exactly, but it was the truth. No matter how mad you drove him, how much you toyed with his emotions, he couldn't get enough of you.

You looked back, “Truth?”

"Truth," he confirmed.

"No matter how frustrated you make me, or how confusing things between us are, I can't get enough of you. I... I care about you too much, even when I know I probably shouldn't."

“Would I be an ass if i asked for a kiss?” you said, looking at his gaze. Jason's heart skipped a beat at your question. He wasn't sure if he had heard you correctly. But there you were, looking at him seriously, awaiting an answer. He tried to keep his cool, not wanting to let on how affected he was by your words.

"That depends," he replied, his voice slightly hoarse, "Are you gonna break my heart tomorrow like you always do?"

“I hope not.” you responded. Jason searched your eyes for any hint of deception, any sign that you were just toying with his emotions again. But all he could see was a mixture of honesty and vulnerability in your gaze.

He swallowed, his throat feeling dry, before responding.

"Okay," he whispered, "Just one kiss."

Jason closed his eyes as your hand caressed his cheek, he leaned in closer, his lips just inches away from yours, his heart pounding in his chest.

His body was practically pressed against yours now, the heat between you two almost tangible. You then leaned in and pressed a slow kiss on his lips.

Jason's heart raced further as your lips met his. The kiss was gentle, slow, and it took all his restraint not to deepen it, to pull you closer and never let you go. He melted into the kiss, his hand rising to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

Your head hit the headboard with a *thump*. Jason winced at the sound and pulled back slightly, his eyes snapping open to see if you were hurt. "Are you okay?" he asked, his hand still gently cupping your face. You chuckled, “Yeah, keep going if you wanna.”

"You're gonna be the death of me," he muttered. He leaned in again, his lips finding yours in another slow, searing kiss. Your hands slowly trailed up to the hand covering your cheek.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue lightly tracing the seam of your lips, silently asking for entry. You gladly parting your lips, slowly kissing him with your tongue.

Jason drew back, his chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes roamed over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips.

"You're so beautiful," he leaned back in, his forehead resting against yours, his hand still woven through your hair, keeping you close. “You okay?” you asked. Jason couldn't help but chuckle softly at your question.

"Yeah, I'm more than okay," he assured you, his breath still slightly ragged from the kiss. "Just trying to catch my breath. You tend to make it a bit difficult to do that, you know."

“Alcohol makes you do crazy things I guess.” you chuckled. Jason nodded, his hand unconsciously caressing your hair, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the nape of your neck.

"Yeah, alcohol and you are a dangerous combination,"

The next few minutes seemed to blur together. Clothes were shed, skin meeting skin, lips trailing over every inch of exposed flesh, leaving kisses, bites, and marks in their wake.

Even in the heat of passion, your concern for him always shone through. You'd pause between kisses, your breath ragged, to ask if he was okay, if he wanted to stop.

Jason would reassure you that he was more than okay, that he wanted this just as much as you did. He'd pull you closer, his hands roaming over your body with need and desire, silently begging for more.

As the last piece of clothing fell away, exposing the two of you fully to one another, Jason couldn’t help but marvel at the sight in front of him. You were beautiful, every curve and freckle seemed to call out to him.

He gently pushed you back against the bed, his body hovering over yours. Jason's hands roamed over your body, touching, caressing, savoring the feel of your skin against his. His breath ghosted over your neck, planting kisses and nips along your skin.

Jason's body moved over yours, aligning perfectly with yours as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "Are you sure?" he asked huskily, his voice barely above a whisper, his body already quaking with the effort to hold back.

“Yes, just go.” you softly smiled as you touched his cheek. Jason nodded, his mouth going dry at your touch. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, before slowly, gently, he began to move.

His body moved against yours in a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust bringing them closer and closer together. He watched your face intently, his eyes drinking in every flicker of expression, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

“Ah… fuck.” you hissed in pleasure. Jason swallowed hard at the sound of your hiss. He couldn’t believe how good this felt, how good you felt beneath him. Every gasp and sigh from you sent shivers down his spine, his body responding instinctively, moving a little harder, a little faster.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he groaned. His lips found your neck, kissing and biting softly. All that mattered was you, the sound of your gasps and moans, the feel of your body moving against his. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips moving erratically as he neared his breaking point.

He tried to hold on, to draw out this moment as much as he could, but it was impossible. Waves of pleasure washed over him, his body trembling with the force of his release.

As he came apart, he pulled you closer, his hands tangled in your hair, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin. He held onto you tightly, as if afraid you'd disappear if he let go. For a few moments, everything faded away, and the only thing in his world was you.

You huffed, “Are you okay?” you asked again. Jason was still trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he looked down at you. "Yeah," he nodded, "Yeah, I'm okay." A small, lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"More than okay, actually." You took his face in your hands as you softly kissed his nose. Jason’s heart swelled as you kissed his nose, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he just basked in the moment, enjoying the feeling of your fingers gently caressing his cheeks.

The early morning light was starting to stream in through the window, casting a soft glow over the room. Jason found himself just staring at you, watching the way your eyes were shining, your messy hair framing your face, your expression relaxed and at ease.

He hoped things wouldn't go back to the way it was before.

[pandapetals]

…i have an idea that im unsure on whether or not i can write it myself & i’m OBSESSED with how well you always characterize logan so hear me out

i’m always thinking about the boxing scene in origins, so perhaps some boxer!logan where he’s teaching his girlfriend self defense in the gym after hours? you can make it as steamy or fluffy as you want!

i’ve just been dying to submit a request because i’m a fan of your work <3

AHH, thank you so much. I love your account so much! I have been wanting to write about Boxer Logan for some time so this request is literally perfect.

boxer!logan howlett x fem!reader - fluff, fighting, teasing, banter, no y/n used, no reader description, soft logan, established relationship

"Alright, sweetheart," Logan said, his voice a low rumble that echoed off the empty gym walls. He stood in front of you, hands casually raised. The white tank top he wore clung to his chest, damp with sweat, and the sheen of it caught in the flickering overhead lights. He rolled his shoulders, muscles flexing in a way that seemed entirely unfair. "You gotta learn how to defend yourself."

You fiddled with the straps of the red gloves he’d given you, tugging at them. "I know, Logan," you said, arching a brow, "but do we really need to do this? I mean, c’mon—what’s the point? I don’t want to hurt you."

He laughed, the sound warm and deep. "Hurt me? Darlin’, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried." He tilted his head at you. "But you’re welcome to give it a shot."

You narrowed your eyes, torn between amusement and the urge to wipe that smug look off his face. He looked too at ease, standing there with his hands up and that teasing smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Alright, fine," you huffed, stepping forward. "But don’t come crying to me if I accidentally break that pretty nose of yours."

"Pretty?" He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

"You would," you muttered under your breath.

Logan spread his feet into a fighting stance, nodding toward you. "C’mon, then. First lesson—don’t telegraph. You gotta keep me guessing." He raised a hand to gesture toward your shoulder. "See, you’re tense here. Makes it obvious what you’re about to do. Relax."

"Relax? That’s easy for you to say," you shot back, shaking out your arms. "You don’t have to punch you."

"Exactly," he said with a wink. "Now focus. Don’t think. Just swing."

Taking a deep breath, you stepped in and threw a jab toward his chest—not too hard, but enough to show you meant business. Logan dodged it effortlessly, leaning to the side as though it were a breeze that brushed past him. He gave you an almost pitying look, clicking his tongue.

"Sloppy," he teased, circling you like a predator playing with its prey. "That all you got, sweetheart? I thought you said you didn’t wanna hurt me."

You glared at him, your cheeks heating. "Oh, I will hurt you, Logan," you shot back, a spark of determination lighting in your chest. "Just wait."

He chuckled, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. "That’s more like it. Now stop aiming for where I am—aim for where I’m gonna be."

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing as you watched him move. He was testing you, but there was something about the glint in his eye—like he was enjoying this, not just the sparring, but you. You tried to read him, to guess his next step, and when he shifted ever so slightly, you swung again, this time aiming lower.

To your surprise, he stepped right into it, catching your gloved hand in his palm with a sharp smack. His grip was firm but careful, and he grinned down at you, clearly pleased. "Not bad," he said, his voice softening. "You’re getting there."

You groaned, tugging your hand back. "You let me get that one."

"Maybe," he said with a shrug, the cocky edge returning. "But you still gotta work on your follow-through. What if I wasn’t nice enough to stop it, huh?"

"Nice? You’re about as nice as a brick wall," you muttered, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding—not from exertion, but from the way he was looking at you.

Logan’s grin softened into something almost fond. "You’ve got more fight in you than you think," he said, reaching out to gently adjust your stance. His hands lingered on your shoulders for just a second before he stepped back. "Now, one more time. And this time, I want you to mean it."

You nodded, steeling yourself. He was still smirking, but there was something else there too—a flicker of pride, maybe, or just the satisfaction of seeing you rise to the challenge. Whatever it was, you weren’t about to let him down.

You shifted your weight, fixing your gaze on his chest as if it were a target. Then, without warning, you lunged forward, throwing your whole body into the punch. He moved to dodge, but this time you were ready—you adjusted mid-swing, your fist just grazing his ribs. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him blink, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

"Well, look at that," Logan said, stepping back and rubbing his side with exaggerated drama. "You almost got me."

"Almost?" you said, crossing your arms. "Pretty sure I felt that connect." 

"Sure, sure," he said, smirking as he leaned closer, his voice dropping. "Next time, maybe try a little harder. You might even make me flinch."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Whatever, let’s just go again.” You stepped back, shaking out your hands like a boxer psyching themselves up.

Logan smirked, circling you slowly, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and challenge. His confidence was infuriating—like he was untouchable, always one step ahead. But as he moved, you caught his focus was on your gloves, like he thought that was all you had to work with.

Big mistake.

You let your shoulders drop, exhaling slowly as if you were done. "Alright, you win," you said, feigning defeat. "You’re too good, Logan. I give up."

He tilted his head, one brow quirking in suspicion, but the grin never left his face. "Oh, c’mon now, don’t quit on me, sweetheart. Where’s that fire I saw a minute ago?"

"It’s gone," you sighed dramatically, letting your gloves hang at your sides. Then, as he paused in his pacing, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you in two quick strides. Logan’s smirk faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he sensed something coming.

Instead of throwing a punch, you leaned in and kissed him.

For a split second, Logan froze. His lips were warm and slightly parted, caught completely off guard by the sudden move. You felt his breath hitch against your mouth, and then—just as he started to kiss you back—you shifted your weight and swept your foot behind his ankle, knocking him clean off balance.

“Whoa—!” Logan grunted as he hit the mat with a thud, his broad shoulders absorbing most of the impact. He blinked up at you in shock, sprawled out flat on his back.

You straightened, grinning down at him as you tugged your gloves off one by one and tossed them aside. “Gotcha,” you said, hands on your hips.

He stared up at you, and you couldn’t tell if he was more surprised or impressed. Then, a slow, lazy smile spread across his face, and he let out a low chuckle that made your stomach flip. "Well, I’ll be damned. That was sneaky."

You crouched down beside him, trying to look innocent. “What’s the matter, big guy? Can’t handle a little creative thinking?”

“Creative thinking, huh?” Logan propped himself up on his elbows, his grin turning wolfish. “I don’t think that counts when you cheat.”

You gasped, feigning offense. “Cheat? Cheat? I think you’re just mad I finally got the drop on you.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” he drawled, his tone playful but laced with a hint of a challenge. Before you could blink, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you forward. You let out a startled laugh as you tumbled down onto the mat, landing half on top of him.

“Logan!” you protested, trying to pull back, but his arms wrapped around your waist holding you in place. He was grinning up at you now, his eyes bright with amusement that made your breath catch.

“You’re gettin’ cocky, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “But I gotta admit, that was a hell of a move.”

You smirked, leaning in just enough to meet his gaze head-on. “Guess you’re not as quick as you thought you were, huh?”

“Careful,” he murmured, his fingers brushing along your side. “You keep talkin’ like that, and I might have to teach you another lesson.”

“Oh yeah?” you shot back, your voice dropping to match his. “And what’s that?”

Instead of answering, Logan pulled you down the rest of the way and kissed you, slow and deliberate. His lips were warm and firm, and he kissed like he fought—with total confidence and just a hint of something wild beneath the surface. The world narrowed to just the two of you: the heat of his body against yours, the rough scrape of his stubble, the way his hand slid up your back like he didn’t want to let you go.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his voice was a low, satisfied rumble. “Lesson one,” he said, his smirk returning. “Never let your guard down.”

[ssivinee]

❥ 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚎

ITZY! Racer! Shin Ryujin x F reader x tripleS! Racer! Park Sohyun: After the awkward encounter, you try to avoid the two women, but to your luck, it fails while you're out with your best friend. This seems to work more in your favor, helping your heart get to the finish line.

Word Count: 7.1 k

Author's Note: This is part two of Racing Hearts! I suggest you read part 1 for more background. YOU GUYS HAVE ALSO SPOKEN AND CHOSEN WHO TO END UP WITH, SO KEEP THAT IN MIND😭! ⚠️excessive language is used here⚠️

➳ Character Concept - Jeon Y/n

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 1 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 2

It was a Saturday morning, which meant short work hours at your brother's mechanic shop. You were currently working on a 2005 Honda Civic for an elderly man who brought it in early in the morning. 

Since the last time you saw Ryujin and Sohyun, you practically buried yourself in work, doing your best to avoid any interaction with them.

The race was three weeks ago, and that tension… just had you feeling super anxious about it all. You didn’t want to become the wedge between the two girls, but you couldn’t help but perceive it that way. They basically had a standoff before you left, so of course, it felt heavy to you.

“You’ve been staring at the engine for, like, fifteen minutes, Y/n,” your older brother said as he looked at his watch. “How bout’ you don’t time me and focus on that paperwork?” You ask playfully, but your brother wasn’t having any of it at the moment. “Y/n,” you hear Wonwoo’s stern voice call out, and you sigh, shoulders lowering in defeat.

“Yes?” You turn around, trying to show the most innocent face possible, which had him rolling his eyes hard. “What’s up with you? Since that day, you’ve been staying at the shop late, spacing out, and not even taking time for yourself?”

You were just at a loss for words, sitting in the chair before him. “I- I don’t even know, myself.” 

“Did you enjoy the race with Cheuksin?” He asked with a worried expression on his face. You furiously shake your hands, “I enjoyed it! That just… isn’t the problem.” Wonwoo’s face softened at hearing you sound tired. “So what is it then?” “I really liked racing with them. It felt new and fresh. I just felt so free again,” as you spoke, a cheesy grin formed on your face, causing your brother to be even more curious as to what was puzzling your mind. “It’s Sohyun and Ryujin.”

You tried ending it there, but as you lifted up your head to find your brother's face, it clearly said, ‘Well, elaborate,’ despite no words coming out of his mouth. You sigh again, “When I won the race, the two just felt like… they were declaring they’d fight for me? I don’t even know at this point. I just wouldn’t want to break a friendship, you know?”

“You can’t exactly help how you feel, Y/n. You're only human too. Besides, if their bond is great, your choice wouldn’t get in the way of that,” he explains, trying to be a good older brother and your voice of reason. Yet, hearing that only stressed you out even more. You lift your hands abruptly in defeat as they fall straight down to your sides, “That’s the thing! I don’t know who to choose. I literally met them a month ago, oppa. Also, adding onto the fact that I broke up with Shuhua on the same night we met.”

Now that Wonwoo was seeing the stress on your face, he never liked seeing you like that. It was always a rare occurrence, and when it did happen, Wonwoo always did his best to cheer you up. 

You are his little sister and practically his only family left. When both your parents basically left, he swore he’d protect you, even with love problems like this.

“How bout’ this? You take a day off tomorrow and on Monday. Then, you can hang out with Isa, go shopping, race, and go out of town. Literally anything other than work right now,” you look at him like he’s crazy at the suggestion. “But you’ll be alone, and the store is gonna be bu-”

“You know I’m not taking no for an answer, so,” he shrugs, walking away from you to return to his office. You groan and admit defeat as you head back to working on your car, mumbling, “Yeah, I know.”

Since Wonwoo was doing his best not to hear you argue with him, he let you finish up your work for the rest of the day. As hours passed, it was nighttime, and to avoid you staying longer, Wonwoo turned off the garage lights and locked the door that kept the light switches.

“REALLY?!” You yell as he waves, walking out the door. “Get your stuff and lock up! Thanks!” His grin made you want to slap his face, but you knew your brother had good intentions. So, without wasting another thought in the dark space, you went to your locker, got your belongings out, turned off the lights, locked the store, and drove home.

The ten-minute car ride was quick, as it was late and fewer vehicles were on the road. Once you entered your humble abode, you changed into your slippers and walked sluggishly to your room. As you entered your safe space, you dropped your bag onto the floor and fell onto your bed, not wanting to think about anything anymore.

Your brother gave you a day off, and you didn’t know what to do with it at this point.

You just decided to take a brisk hot shower and lay in bed afterward, scrolling through your phone. As you looked through your social media, you saw Sohyun had posted a new photo. Seeing no harm in it, you decided to look, not knowing what to expect.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw.

When looking at Sohyun’s feed, it was quite calm, with aspects of her daily life shown. So the selfie of her in a short strapless bodycon dress at a party with her hair tousled out of place was not something you were expecting. 

She looked like she was dancing in the picture, a red solo cup in one hand. Her lips in a smirk, and her eyes were squinting, looking as if they were seducing you into a trap. Added with the effect of purple and blue party lights raining down on her head, she had you almost drooling instantly.

Your eyes travel down to the caption, ‘At a party with so many people, but only looking for you.’ 

That just caused you to turn your phone off and slam it down on the bed. You could just grip your hair with how crazy reading that made you feel. The photo put your brain in a frenzy, so you just had to put yourself in a harder position, huh? You wanted to hit yourself, but try to think of a different way to spend your days off instead to keep your mind off it.

You could do anything, but it was like your brain was on low-power mode. 

It was as if on time, a notification pinged your phone, and when you looked, it was Isa asking if you were free to go shopping with her tomorrow. You mentally praised her and responded with what your brain cells could handle at the moment.

YES, you’re a literal lifesaver right now, Isa.

It was the next day, and you and Isa were already out at the shopping plaza two bags each in hand. “Lord, I legit needed this day off today,” Isa tells you, extremely happy with the free time she was given after so many days of work at the cafe. “You literally own the cafe. Can’t you get a day off whenever you want?”

She shrugs at you with a smile, “That’s not my kind of business owner ethic.” Still walking, the plaza was buzzing with many adults, likely due to it being a weekday. “So~”

“Oh, please don’t,” you say, already expecting the topic that’s about to come up. “What? Are you not feeling the two?” She asked, her face looking like a clueless puppy. “No. I am feeling the two, and that’s the issue!”

“Ah, I love a good love triangle,” she giggles, trying to make light of the situation, but she realizes you were serious about it. “Y/n, you just met them. You shouldn’t have to force anything. Just go with the flow!”

“You weren’t there, Isa. It just felt like I added two new problems into my life when I quite literally just finished one,” you say, insinuating your first problem being Shuhua. “Girl, seriously, try not to stress. Whatever happens, happens. You like who you like, and you love who you love. You know, the whole shebang.”

You laugh, “I just don’t want to be in a position where I have to pick from the two, but I just seem to be heading down that path right now.”

“Well, just have some fun with it. Hang out with both, get to know them more, and find who you want. No need to pressure yourself in choosing and finding love when you don’t have a definite answer.”

That was probably one of the most genuine pieces of advice that Isa gave in a long time, making you go into thought. “Maybe… That actually sounds like a good idea.”

The words slip out of your mouth. You guys go to a stall selling bubble tea and wait in line. As if you manifested it out of your conversation, from the corner of your eyes, you see Sohyun walking with a couple of friends. She wore her glasses, some washed mom jeans, and a hoody, making her quite comfy.

While walking, Sohyun feels the eyes on her. She looks around and finds you in the line of people, a smile forming on her face. “Guys, I’ll catch up in a little,” she tells her friends and walks over to you and Isa.

You tried looking at Isa as if you didn’t see the younger girl in the first place, hoping that would save your ass… at least you tried. As Isa stared at you confusingly, your best friend looked behind you, and she saw someone a tad bit taller towering over you. Once she realizes who it is, she stares at you with wide eyes, and your eyes practically signal, ‘SOS, I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO!’

" Y/n-unnie?” You heard her voice, and Isa signaled you with her hands to go on, trying to save you from any embarrassment. You coughed, spinning around: “Sohyun! What a coincidence seeing you here.” The tone of your voice evidently confused the young a bit; it was as if you were talking to your pet about how good they were.

One brow was raised, and slight amusement hinted in her face. “Uh yeah, I was just hanging out with some university friends today, and then I got a race later.” You tried to act as if you were interested. Which you were, but all you wanted to do was run away as fast as possible.

“That’s cool. I have the day off, so-”

Shit.

“A day off?” As soon as that sentence slipped out of your mouth, you completely regretted it. Yeah~, my brother told me I’ve been working a lot, so,” you awkwardly giggle, which makes Isa nudge you a bit. You look at her, and she shakes her head, mouthing, ' Stop embarrassing yourself in front of a hottie.’

Sohyun finally noticed you were with a friend. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you guys,” she said, “and Isa got startled at the respectable gesture. Don’t worry, you weren’t.”

You look at the two, and Isa gives you crazy eyes for involving her in this mortifying interaction. “Ah, Sohyun-ah, this is Isa, my childhood best friend,” the younger girl's eyebrows raised at the fact, shaking her hand. “I’m Sohyun.”

“Oh, I know,” Isa says, making Sohyun look at you as you just slapped your forehead with quite the force.

“It’s been quite some time since we hung out. Maybe… you wanna come to the race tonight? You can just watch, too, if you prefer that,” she asks, and you look at Isa, not knowing how to answer. The younger notices the hesitance and clarifies, “You can bring Isa too if you’d like.”

You look at her in surprise, slowly nodding in agreement. “That can work.”

Sohyun’s smile grows excited as she does a tiny dace, “Great! I’ll send you the details, unnie!” She then looks at her phone, her friends pinging her every second they could. “I do have to go. My friends are looking for me, but I’ll see you guys there?” You and Isa nod, still unsure about the idea, as Isa looks more enthusiastic. 

“You just like how painful this is for me,” the two of you inched up in the line, two spots away from the counter. “Oh, most definitely,” your best friend says with an evil grin as you pout at her, finding this entertaining.

As the two of you reach the front of the line, you order your prepared drinks quickly. You then begin walking in the opposite direction of Sohyun and her friends. Your phone receives a notification while sipping your milk tea and thinking of the race.

You see that it’s Sohyun sending you a direct message on Instagram, but when you read it, it feels like your heart drops. ‘Here are the details of the race later tn. I’m sure all of Cheuksin will be happy to see you. Ryujin unnie and I missed you a lot, so :3.’

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” You just mumble and get louder and louder. This had Isa looking around before looking back at you, “Okay, relax before someone thinks you actually needa shit, please.”

“Dude, it totally went over my head that Ryujin is going to be at the race. " As you struggled to process the forgotten information, Isa gave you a deadpanned face. “Ryujin… is literally, like… the leader of her group. You just forgot all that or~?”

“Well, Sherlock, I clearly did,” you roll your eyes at Isa, who giggles. “Stop finding this funny~.”

“I can’t help it,” she says, laughing harder while admitting it.

You and Isa arrived thirty minutes late at the race in your car. Isa suggested that more people be around so it wouldn’t feel awkward. Yet your heart couldn’t stop racing because it likely wouldn’t matter. As your car rolled in, many Cheuksin members remembered the vehicle, giving subtle waves in its direction.

“Well, aren’t you miss popular in these streets,” Isa says, genuinely impressed at everyone waving. You roll your eyes but chuckle, “Maybe I left a good impression.”

“Yeah. After you didn’t show up for three weeks,” Isa cracks at her own joke, and you slap her shoulder, making her give you a fake offensive stare. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The both of you exit your car and stand on the sidewalk, just wanting to be on the sidelines and out of anyone’s vision. You knew someone would tell the two girls about your arrival, but you were delaying the inevitable. 

“It’s been so long~,” Isa practically wines, and you smile. When she lived near Incheon as a child, the two of you religiously hung out. So, realistically, she was there for your early days in racing. Isa had seen the triumphs, the disasters, the breakdowns, and everything under the sun at these events and she always loved them. “You always ate up all the drama at these things.”

You laugh, but she makes another joke, “Yeah, but now you're a part of the drama.” That had your face switched up so fast, causing Isa to laugh even harder. “Dude, this just can’t be happening to me right now,” you groan.

“Hey, stranger,” you hear a soft voice to your close left, causing you to whip your head in that direction to find Sohyun with a goofy smile on her face. “I’m glad you guys could make it.”

“I mean, we were free, so we said, why not,” you tried playing it cool, not wanting to hurt her feelings by being ‘mean.’ “Oh, long time no see,” you heard that deep voice coming from in front of you and it made you nervous.

You see Ryujin walking forward, her strides ever so authoritative. “Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” she expresses as her head tilts in curiosity. “Cause I invited her,” the younger butted in, and the both of you gave her a side eye, one more hostile looking than the other. “Word spread fast, so I had to see if it was real.”

“Definitely real,” Isa mumbles, but it catches Ryujin’s attention. She glances between the two of you, a bit confused. “And this is?”

“Uhm, Isa. My best friend,” you tell her as you feel your heart racing and your palms getting a bit sweaty. “Childhood best friend,” Isa emphasizes, making the leader chuckle. “Had to establish the title there, huh?” Isa nods in a joking manner, and her hand points at Ryujin.

“Are you gonna stay until my race at the end?”

The question was so innocent, but it felt that it was entailing something more. Your nervousness wasn’t so noticeable, but as an observant one, Sohyun felt the vibes shift once Ryujin walked over. While watching the two of you, the younger didn’t want to accept that her mentor had this kind of effect on you.

The effect that had a person weak to the knees, or as if they were holding their breath. It made Sohyun feel unworthy of your attention, especially since you felt more nonchalant at the shopping plaza earlier in the day.

She decided to butt in, trying to still catch your attention. “Y/n unnie, can you cheer for me?” You were taken aback by the request, looking back at Ryujin, but gave in, “Of course, Hyun.”

You just saying her nickname made her heart skip a beat. Only people close to her used the name, and the two of you didn’t interact much, but it just did something to her. She may have felt like she was overreacting, but these are the kind of small gestures she was looking for from you.

Ryujin notices her protege’s attempts, trying not to glare at the girl. There was no reason to be territorial over you. It felt far too soon for that.

But Ryujin was a woman who knew what she wanted, and she wanted you. She was willing to make that happen, even if it meant of getting in Sohyun’s way. 

As a leader, Ryujin was rarely ever mean, aggressive, or power hungry. In fact she was alway nice, sweet, and heroic for a lot of Cheuksin’s member. Yet in her heart, she knew, that it was okay to be selfish once in a while, especially if it was the sake of her love life.

“Make sure you stay till the end, okay?” Ryujin asks, softening her tone. You look at her, perplexed as to why she sounded a bit desperate there, “why?” 

“I wanna have a pretty trophy for tonight,” she says, walking away backward with a smirk. She wasn’t telling you nor saying the trophy was you, but you knew exactly what she was implying without saying it. You were speechless at the smooth comment, your stomach filling with butterflies instantly. Isa slaps your arm as she squeals, “that was so hot,” she whispers in your ear.

You hear a slight cough, remembering Sohyun was still beside you. The girl didn’t want to make it obvious but was irritated. She invited you here, so she should be getting this attention.

She would admit she isn’t one to have so much charisma. Sohyun may have been popular, but she was a nerd, shy, and a bit awkward at times. The only way she could probably compete with Ryujin in that aspect was with her driving… and some liquid courage, which was obviously impossible for tonight.

“I don’t blame her,” Sohyun admits to you, and now you are back in confusion. “I’d wanna win a prize as good as you,” she smiles. Now, this was cute, and it made your heart wanna burst as she walked back to her car.

“They’re basically having a rizz battle over you, girl.” Isa laughs at your disgusted face, “Never say that shit ever again, please,” you giggle as she throws her hands up. In your friendship, she had always been the comedian, which was a relief ninety percent of the time, so you weren’t always stressed out.

After a few minutes, an announcement blares from a mega phone, stating the next race with the racers, which included Sohyun. This wasn’t a Cheuksin exclusive event so you were surprised to hear the infamous Yeonjun being there against her again.

“Oh dear,” you mumbled and Isa looks into the street, seeing his fiery red hair in his car. “As in like… Djinn, Yeonjun?” You reluctantly nod at the question. “Then oh dear, indeed.”

As you watch, Sohyun sat in her car, eyes shut as she did her best to calm her nerves. She kept telling herself that she’s beaten him once, but knowing in the back of her mind, you were watching made her heart race. Since seeing you race, Sohyun wanted to do something that could impress and amazing racer like you. 

That meant if she had to get reckless in this race… she would.

When the flag girl’s voice was loud and clear on go, Sohyun and Yeonjun could be seen neck and neck right out the gates. 

The vice captain of Djinn thought he would take his revenge, so despite the rest of the crew not being there, he was gonna do anything to win. Little did he know that the newbie was feeling the exact same way.

The dron flew around, following the race with its camera and everyone pulls out their phones. The track was insanely harder than the last, their were many sharp turns, a straight line to the freeway, and it was going into many busy streets with many cars.

The four cars hit the first sharp turn, Sohyun taking a smaller drift to stay in front. Yeonjun wouldn’t let her off easy though, as he smoothly follows, almost rearing her car. “I’m gonna win this shit today,” Yeonjun tells himself, the aggressiveness begging to simmer. Everyone dislikes losing, but Yeonjun was one that hated feeling like a sore loser in anything, which was quite obvious with his dirty tactics.

Another sharp turn followed, the street leading up to the free way. Sohyun saw a car double parked in front of her and the smartest thing would be to remove herself from the lane instantly, but when she looks in her rearview mirror, she sees Yeonjun’s vicious smirk basically toying with her.

That made the next decision easy.

Sohyun would clutch her gear shift, moving it down to speed up the vehicle with the car in the way. You watched, eyes widening trying to run over to Ryujin as Isa followed. “What the fuck is she thinking?” You asked the leader, eyes glued to the phone. That decision could end ugly and you wouldn’t want to think of any racer getting hurt. 

“I’m not sure,” Ryujin mumbles, slightly worried at the odd choice. Was she doing this to impress you? That thought made Ryujin furious. She was aware that her and Sohyun liked you, but putting her life in danger? That was a line that Ryujin wasn’t willing to cross over a race like this.

“She better move that clutch and get out the way now!” As if Sohyun heard you from miles away, she swerved out the way. Behind her, Yeonjun’s eyes go wide at the move, and seeing the car in front of him, he doesn’t have enough time to process, swerving out of the way and into the side walk.

“Crazy bitch!” Yeonjun slams his fist on the steering wheel, and does his best to compose himself as he backed up. Yet the other two cars passing him surely didn’t help his anger. “What the actual fuck was that?” Isa asks, concern in her tone. All the years she had watched you and your brother race, she had never seen someone do such a risky move like that.

She basically had the intent to hurt Yeonjun, which didn’t sit well with you or your best friend. Sohyun on the other hand kept driving, not knowing if she was actually mentally ill or proud of what she had done. As she gets on the freeway, Sohyun successfully weaves through every car. 

The young girl was getting confident until she heard cars honking behind her from afar. Sohyun peaks at her right side mirror seeing a raging Yeonjun who was overtaking cars fast, close to making several accidents happen. “What is going on in this race?” You help your forehead, shaking it in disappointment. Ryujin takes a glimpse at you, and when looking back to her phone, she didn’t know what to think. “Your playing a dumb game here, Hyun,” she mumbles.

Sohyun drives past the last car, turning as fast as she can into the race treacks exit. As she reaches the busy streets, she does her best to avoid people and the cars but it seemed that her situation wasn’t stopping Yeonjun from going crazy. In a fit of rage, he started bumping into parked cars, the paint of his car were getting chipped, and little dents could be found all around. 

“Yeonjun looks like he's about to go on a rampage…” Isa tells both you and Ryujin, the both of you looking extremely worried. He was gaining speed quick, almost as if her wanted to ram her car so bad. Sohyun was beginning to sweat bullets, until she takes a quick turn, taking a slight short cut which causes Yeonjun to crash a little harder that before. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” At this rate he couldn’t catch up, and the younger sighs in relief. 

She comes across the finish line, the two of the races far behind due to the scene and you couldn’t help but feel annoyed. This wasn’t the kind of racing you liked, and as much as you knew of Sohyun’s potential, you’d never want her to race like that ever again.

Sohyun runs over to you, Ryujin, and Isa with a large grin on her face, seemingly proud of her efforts. “How’d I do?” “Well, you won,” Ryujin states the obvious, not knowing whether she should approve of her in the moment, or be disappointed at her letting her emotions run wild. Sohyun’s eyes look at you all puppy like but you can’t help but look at her with such dismay.

Although, you understood emotions getting the nest of you, especially as a new racer so you didn’t want to go too hard on her. You sigh but give a tight lipped smile, “You did good, but please try not to race like that ever again.” The tone of your voice made Sohyun a bit sad but she can only nod, understanding that it was mainly out of concern. Seeing this, Ryujin smiles but then remembers Yeonjun.

“You may have dealt with him today, but Yeonjun will likely have a big target on your back… possibly all of Djinn as well.”

“Well, I guess I’ve officially made them an enemy,” Sohyun whines but you outright laugh. “You don’t even have to worry about that. Djinn has been trying to get at Cheuksin for years, and I mean many years. They won’t be a threat to you guys. Well, that’s not to say Yeonjun won’t be a threat to you, but you have trustworthy members by your side,” you point over at the majority of the crew, her best friends Jay and Jake giving a small wave and some enthusiastic thumbs up which has Sohyun and Ryujin chuckle.

“Well, I guess I’m up,” Ryujin tells all of you, waving off to her car as she gets ready. You then began to think of a big possibility, “Shuhua won’t be here, will she?”

Those words had Isa thinking of the worst.  Sohyun shakes her head furiously. “You don’t have to worry. Shuhua seems to have slown down on racing since the Turf Races.”

Isa jokes, “Don’t tell me she’s heartbroken or something?” You laugh at the joke as well, but Sohyun makes this weird face basically saying, ‘kinda?’

“You can’t be serious now…” You looked reluctant to believe it but Sohyun shrugs. “You must’ve done a number on her. Apparently her last race was two weeks ago in Incheon and she lost. Seems to be on a losing streak as well.”

Isa looks at you, quite impressed with your usual, ‘heartbreaking powers’ as she likes to call them. You begin to hear engines reaving, seeing Ryujin’s car at the starting point. From what the drone showed, it seemed like the race track would be quite different. The four cars would be going through the same sharp turns but they’ll stay on the freeway longer, reaching a long tunnel that many vehicles don’t usually take, then they circle around, taking a more curved path while coming back.

You weren’t even paying attention and as the race began, you were so pleased to watch Ryujin drive so effortlessly. It’s so evident in how smoothly she drives her Shelby, no surprising moves, no insane tricks, and it just felt relaxing to watch. Not heart pumping, but still exciting. It was the traditional racing Wonwoo surrounded you with growing up. 

It felt like comfort. Felt like home, actually.

You smiled at the way she maneuvered, it looked like watching pure perfection. The close calls didn’t feel like that what’s so ever, just the tire marks looking like perfect curves, and how effortlessly she would speed up when needed.

As the group traveled into the tunnel, the drone flew lower giving everyone who watched a closer view. It zoomed in front of Ryujin who had the relaxed expression on her face, the evident deep breaths she took made her feel comfortable in each spot.

You watched as she made use of her large space, increasing the gap she had with the three cars. They did a fast loop around in a busier road, she would smoothly move out of the way, just her heart at ease. While driving, Ryujin could feel the adrenaline rising, but she regulated her breathing, trying to keep her head clear.

Which clearly paid off, since she passes the finish line further ahead than the other racers. 

Everyone begins to cheer and you clap, clearly impressed by her performance. When Sohyun looked at you and saw the significant difference in your face while watching both races, she couldn’t help but be disappointed with herself.

She had a plan, to show of what she’s capable of, but it just backfired with making Ryujin look like the better person. “So~, how’d I do?” Ryujin asks you as she walks up, her forearms reaching out.

You were almost speechless by what you saw, but just almost. “You did amazing,” you say with a smile, giving her a genuine hug. You haven’t enjoyed that kind of racing since Wonwoo’s last race seven years ago. Just watching it all had your heart swelling out of joy.

Sohyun watched from afar, getting annoyed, and just stormed off while only Ryujin took notice. You and Isa couldn’t even tell especiall with all the ruckus going on in the crowd.

“Wanna stop ignoring me now and come to my our races?” Ryujin quipped in a joking manner but those words shocked you. She noticed despite not knowing you for so long.

“Dude, when I tell you she raced like how you used to. You’d have to see it for yourself oppa!” 

It was the day you got back to work, and Wonwoo had been given an earful about the races in the past few hours. “I know, I saw everything,” you look at him confused, “how?”

“I think you forget, these races are live streamed. I was fixing up a motorcycle here while watching,” you were gonna say something, but held back your tongue knowing you did forget. “That Sohyun kid… she did some very questionable things out there,” you heard him say as he worked under a car. You could only sigh, “I know! I tried telling her not to…”

“Do you think-” He pauses, not knowing whether he should say it or not. “Do I think what?”

“Do you think she did those things to show off to you?” You halt from working on the engine in front of you, not liking the way your brain was thinking. “I would hope not.”

“Don’t forget, she’s a young, new racer, Y/n/n. It gets the best of everyone sometimes,” you were aware of that, but it still didn’t sit right with you. “I wouldn’t want anyone risking their own safety for me. She also put another racer at risk,” you grunted, more frustrated than anything.

“I know Yeonjun is a dick, but it doesn’t justify why she did. Two wrongs do not make a right,” you emphasis your last sentence and Wonwoo preaches, “That I will always agree on. Never stoop lower. Ever. Because once you do and get into the habit of it-”

“There’s always a high possibly of you getting hurt in the end,” you say at the same time as him, always remembering your older brothers words when racing. Everything Sohyun did went against your morals. Yeonjun does play dirty, theres no doubt about it, but he also had a reasonable excuse to be angry. He just can’t control his emotions properly.

As you were about to switch to pliers, your phone rings and you see Ryujin’s contact name come up. After her race, she boldy asked for your number saying, “Now I think the only reward I’ll accept today is your number.” 

You open up the text reading ‘pls come to Cheuksin’s spot tonight at eight.’ And that was it. You rolled your eyes subconsciously, finding her suspiciousness funny, so you reply ‘sure,’ leaving it at that.

Once 7:30 rolls around, you say bye to your brother, and going home for a brisk shower and change of outfit. You washed up and changed into some more comfortable running sneakers, some black legging, and a cropped off the shoulder knitted sweater.

Driving to the spot took no long than twenty minutes, and you see everyone hanging out under the bridge. As you parked your car and walked over, you find Ryujin standing in the middle. Sohyun, who didn’t look surprise at all to see you, makes eye contact. Her eyes were full of sadness, and she looked down to her knees quickly while sitting on a lawn chair. 

“Since you were all free today, I decided to call an emergency meeting,” Ryujin looks around, then sees you and gives a small wave. You smile at the small gesture and she continues, “There are a few things I want to speak about tonight.”

“One, Sohyun and your race,” she looks at Sohyun who still hasnt raised her head, knowing she was about to get told off. “I get it,” the leader starts and Sohyun looks up surprised. “You’re a young racer. Less experience, and we all make dumb decisions. Although that doesn’t mean your let off the hook tonight.”

“No matter what you are feeling in the moment, no matter whose around, none of you should be putting your safety at risk for a race. With that being said, Sohyun is suspended from racing for two weeks. What happened that day isn’t against the racing rules, but we have order here in Cheuksin, but we also care about all of our racers, so please keep that in mind.”

Sohyun knew it, it was going to be her likely punishment anyways but she still couldn’t help but be so angry at herself. 

Ryujin continued with all her announcements like more races, some meeting with the ‘alumni’ of Cheuksin, and everything she could fit in that moment. She ends the meeting, but everyone stays, enjoying each others company. Ryujin walks over to you and you proceed to look impressed, “Did you invite me here to show off your leader skill?”

She laughs, “I just thought it would be fun, okay?” You carry on the conversation with her, Ryujin keeping a beautiful smile on your face. As the two of you were enjoying yourselves, you catch Sohyun sitting far away from everyone at the corner of your eye. You feel terribly bad and say, “I’ll be back.” Ryujin sees you walking over to her direction, sighing.

Ryujin wasn’t cocky, but she was sure you liked her more than Sohyun, but it was also clear that you had a big heart. 

“Well this isn’t a way to party now,” Sohyun hears your voice and jolts up. “Oh, hey, Y/n,” she sounded so out of it, and you just sit down next to her, letting the silence engulf the both of you. It was a comfortable silence, but in Sohyun’s mind, she seemed to be having an internal warfare until she made up her mind.

“You know I like you, right?” After five minutes of silence, Sohyun admits her feelings. “Wha-”

“I like you,” You look at her surprised, it was obvious but just outright saying it was now what you were expecting out of just sitting next to her. “Your kind, smart, experienced, knowledgeable, pretty, and everything I could want in a woman,” she said, lowering her head once she called you pretty. 

You didn’t know what to say, “Sohyun I-”

“Just… listen first, please?” You shut your mouth quickly, letting her pour everything out. “When I first saw you, I thought the the world sent me a goddess when I needed it. Any racer, no, any person out thee would find you perfect. I guess, I’m just glad that I feel seen by you, even if it isn’t much.”

“...but I know you like her,” Sohyun voices, her voice feeling frail at the reality. “Like who?” “I know you like Ryujin, Y/n. It isn’t exactly a secret. We’ve both known you for the same amount of time, but you see Ryujin for all that she is. Her talent, her brains, her demenour, her personality.”

She sighs leaning her head back, trying to not let the tears fall, “You guys are perfect for each other,” she whispered. “Sohyun-” “You should go back to her,” She tells you, wiping her tearful eyes quickly, not wanting to cry in front of you. Before you get up and got cut off again, you just tell her, “You’re a greet person, Hyun, and a great Racer. It’s just a small bump in the road. Remember that?” She nodded, looking away from you.

You walked back over to Ryujin who waited while leaning on her own car. “Good talk?” Your face morphs indifferently, “It was something.” She sees the sad gaze you give Sohyun, and decides to do something nice to put a smile on your face. Ryujin begins pulling your arm over to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, “Come on, let’s go for a drive.”

You stood there, really confused, “Huh? What about my car?” She pushes you in lightly, but you willingly go in yourself, “We’ll come back for it don’t worry.”

She hops into the driver seat, and the ride was in comfortable silence as the empty roads felt serene. Ryujin stops her car at an abandoned lot that was large yet in the middle of nowhere. She signals to exit the vehicle and lays on the hood of her car, you follow, just leaning on it. 

“I wanted to get away with you, even if it was just for a moment,” Ryujin tells you, and you look up at the dark sky, seeing specks of stars. “This is beautiful,” she leans up, looking at your face, “it is.” You turn your head, finding her gaze and blush hard whil quickly looking away.

“I hope… you go easy on Hyun. The girl has so much talent and the moment got to her,” you nod, understanding the situation. “I know, I just always hated racing that way. Wonwoo kind of wired me that way,” you chuckle. 

Ryujin wanted to say it now, she wanted to say she liked you, before you could slip out of her grasp. But instead of saying her feelings, she randomly goes, “Wanna take my car for a spin?” Your eyes widen. Within racing culture, letting others drive your car was pretty rare because of how much people cared for their vehicles. “But not anyone should be driving racers cars.”

“You aren’t just anyone, Y/n,” those words made your heart jump, the racing feeling happening in your chest instead. She tosses her keys to you, and you catch it with ease. “Come on~” She whines, making you smile and get in from the drivers side. You start of the car, the feeling of the leather steering wheel making you feel comfortable. “Book it,” Ryujin says, and you look at her. She looks straight ahead with a smile, confident in your abilities. “Well, you said so,” you move the clutch and drive at a high speed.

The lot was enormous, making you drift whenever and wherever as Ryujin just smiles at the experience. She had never let anyone drive her Shelby, but she was glad to give the first opportunity to you. She know she was an excellent driving, but being in the car while you took the wheel felt otherworldly. Your hand looked so delicate on the clutch and wheel and every movement you made felt like you culd do this in your sleep.

“God, how can I not like you?” Ryujin says in the spur of the moment, but doesnt regret it as you stop the car super abruptly, the both of you jolting forward ever so slightly. “Okay, ouch. But what did you just say?” She rubs her neck a bit, the slight pain lingering from the whiplash. “I said, how can I not like you?”

…You looked as if you seen a ghost, keeping your mouth shut tight and Ryujin laughs at the reaction. “Come on~, I knew it was obvious, no?”

“I mean, yeah, but hearing it makes it feel real.”

“But it is real. I like you a lot, Y/n,” Ryujin confesses and you feel your shoulders relaxing, her words fully processing in your mind. “I like you a lot too,” You tell her with a smile, and Ryujin just wanted to kiss your beautiful face right then and there, but she wanted to cherish you and take it slow. “How ‘bout we grab a bite?”

“Is this you asking me out?” Ryujin looks offended, shaking her head rapidly. “First off, our first date will definitely be more prepared. I just want to spend the night with you and have the night never end,” her eyes twinkled due to the moonlight and your cheeks flush a bit.

“Then I’d love to.”

[messiahzzz]

while it’s perfectly fine to have your own headcanons that are non-canon compliant — by all means, go wild. recognizing pieces of yourselves in fictional characters can be a very healing and validating experience. this is nonetheless a casual, well-intentioned reminder that gale, in fact, does not have bpd.

bpd is a pervasive pattern of instability affecting interpersonal relationships, self-image, and mood. the disorder is marked by impulsivity beginning in early adulthood and is present in a variety of contexts. a diagnosis requires at least 5 of the following 9 criteria to be met:

Fear of abandonment

Unstable or changing relationships

Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors (e.g., excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).

Suicidal behavior or self-injury

Varied or random mood swings

Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

source: [x]

i highlighted the criteria that do apply to gale in one way or another in a pretty purple.

i personally believe that it’s rather harmful to equate his relationship with mystra with her being “his fp”. she is a deity, his goddess, and the source of his powers, who is in in full control of the magic he wields.

gale: mystra commands all magic. salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold.

gale has been effectively groomed and conditioned to serve and revere her at every turn since early childhood. imo this comparison really undermines a lot of crucial points in gale’s story that deal with his overall trauma and abuse. after all, you wouldn’t call shar sh*dowhe*rt’s fp either.

gale doesn’t revile mystra, nor does he commit benevolent deeds solely motivated by the secret hope that she will somehow notice and take him back. when you meet gale in the game he has already fully come to terms with the fact that he has been abandoned by mystra with no hope of reconciliation whatsoever. he also had some very fitting lines in ea regarding this topic that i'm sad haven't been repurposed in the full release in some way.

gale: [the tadpoles] don't know that some things are impossible. they don't know that... they don't know. player: what is impossible about what you're being shown? gale: forgiveness. gale: it is mystra i see. and yet it cannot be her. there was a time when i would have believed - but no longer. gale: suffice it to say she would not bestow upon me the favors promised in these dreams. that is how i know they are delusions.

he has already reached the stage of acceptance. moreover, gale only starts to realize that mystra might have been in the wrong for requesting his death once the tadpole squad & tav speak some sense into him. and even then he doesn’t ever show that his emotions regarding mystra are anywhere along those lines. he is instead rightfully angered that she only saw value in his death, after he had been worshipping her loyally for years.

gale: i worshipped mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power i was ready to wield. gale: even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. she's done nothing to help us.

gale: you abandoned me in my hour of greatest need. i had no obligation to help you in yours. gale: because you had no right to ask that of me. you cast me out, remember?

gale doesn’t display rapid changes in mood either. he is a character who is generally very composed and has been known to remain nonchalant even in the face of utter horror. tim downie himself even commented on this once. source: [x]

the only instance i can think of is his sudden switch from resigned-to-death to utter-eye-sparkling-enthusiasm once he spots the crown of karsus. apart from crucial story reasons that i won’t touch upon in this post, i’d also like to add that it’s a rather common phenomenon for people who have just barely survived a suicide attempt to suddenly be filled with zeal and unbridled energy. he doesn't display impulsivity without thorough consideration when it comes to its acquisition either. he considers this a golden opportunity and is positively enthusiastic and elated that this might prove an alternative to him ending up in a cloud of netherese smoke. nonetheless, he knows what he is doing. evident in him actually succeeding in ascending in one of his endings.

gale: this is no passing whim, trust me. if i can obtain that crown, it will affect us all. it is not a decision i'll take lightly. gale: it's our future that i'm thinking of - we can't rely on anyone else to do it for us. gale: for now - we've learned all we can.

neither are his relationships that we do know of (namely elminster, tara, and morena) frequently changing. they are marked by years of mutual respect, care, and consistency. there is nothing unstable about them. while it's important to note that his relationship with tav is still in its honeymoon stages during the main game, there is no inclination of any push-and-pull dynamic between them whatsoever.

gale isn’t preoccupied with keeping up some sort of benevolent act in order to win (back) affection — he genuinely IS a good person and he proves this at every turn. moreover, to have a tressym become your familiar you must be of Good alignment.

(taken from tumblr user galedekarios's post.)

there is never a moment where his ideals or alignment suddenly change. in fact, i’d argue that he and wyll are most consistent in this regard when compared to the rest of the companions. gale makes his moral standpoint very clear from the beginning on and also explicitly states that he believes that in order to survive this entire ordeal it would be selfish of him if he wouldn’t be willing to compromise on his morals. this isn’t a sudden bout of ✨muahahaha wizard hubris✨ that he barely contained to hold in before, this is yet another act of selflessness — it is what he’s willing to do for the group and subsequently, the welfare of faerun.

player: i love unsavoury things. don't feel guilty on my account. gale: that's good to know. although i should say i do what i do out of a sense of utility and pragmatism, not a love of the unsavoury. gale: we're up against the greatest threat faerun has ever faced. i don't mind getting my hands dirty if it gives us a better chance of surviving. gale: whatever advantage i can gain for us. i will. and i refuse to feel guilty for it, no matter how much mystra's chidings might echo in my skull.

this is him, once again trying to be useful in whatever way he can. to give them an advantage, a slither of hope against seemingly impossible odds, so they might make it out of this in one piece. gale wouldn’t approve of those actions under normal circumstances, but their predicament is as far from any definition of “normal” as it can get.

gale is no fool, he realizes this is essentially about survival. he knows that he has no option left other than to tolerate, which is why he can be convinced to not immediately depart tav’s company even if they choose to commit atrocities. this is no character flaw of his or him displaying a previously dormant openness for cruelty, this is about recognizing the necessity.

player: you don't stand a chance alone. you're free to go. i dare you. gale: gods damn you - you're right. few things are more powerful than the will to live.

gale: i thought the orb to be the greatest of my sins, but i see now that there are darker depths to which i might yet sink. you may be content to sink into that abyss, but i assure you - i am not.

gale doesn’t lead a split existence. he has a very strong sense of identity. he knows what he wants, what he doesn’t want and he isn’t shy in expressing his boundaries either. which he has especially shown when it comes to his relationship with tav. i originally had intended to touch upon this in another post entirely but: i firmly believe his entire Gale of Waterdeep™ persona is more of a performance than him struggling to find a sense of identity and trying them on for size. it is an intentional decision to separate gale dekarios from the great wizard of waterdeep, to create distance and make sure his family name remains untarnished in case things should ever go sideways.

gale: i agree. and on the plus side, if i get myself into any truly cataclysmic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

there is also a deep-rooted feeling of unworthiness and his firm belief that love and praise are conditional resources that he will only be granted through his talents alone, naturally. presenting himself as gale dekarios, the man, would mean highlighting his shortcomings and very human flaws, while distracting from the aspects of himself that are deemed praiseworthy, the ones that actually matter: his magical prowess.

i personally believe that part of the beauty of gale’s story is him realizing just how “little” it takes for him to be truly content. he gets his happy ending, with someone at his side who truly sees him, understands him and unabashedly commits to him. they worship and adore him in return — and it is well deserved. he isn’t reduced to be constantly and restlessly searching for some unattainable ideal to fill the gaping void within himself. he doesn’t secretly thirst for more power still or believes that in being with tav he is settling for something. instead, he is finally happy to just be. be and be accepted. teaching a class of unruly wizards and coming home to his spouse each day already fulfills him.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

even if he doesn’t pursue a romance with tav, he reaches a realization of “oh, it appears i am not irredeemably flawed and only able to reach true redemption through my own death. what i needed was actually with me all along.” throughout their journey and through his friend's support. i think that’s a very powerful and comforting message. he is very well capable of finding peace within himself.

devnotes: his default state is that he returned to waterdeep and became a professor of illusory magic at his former school, blackstaff academy. general vibe here is that this is a gale who's found peace with himself - he's a great teacher, one his students are mostly in awe of.

to repeat myself: sharing your headcanons is all in good fun, nor should you ever be discouraged from doing so. this is your personal tumblr experience, after all. but i personally think we should be mindful of unintentionally perpetuating negative stereotypes, such as narcissism being a general indicator or being deemed a classic depiction of bpd. i think we can all agree that the continuous longing for acceptance, connection, praise, and approval is something we all have in common deep down, regardless of whatever disorder we may have. [insert victoria justice meme here]

gale may be many things to many people, but he is no entitled narcissist.

[gregmarriage]

gonna become pepe slivia charlie, while trying to write the plot for this fic

[merevide]

one thing about me i will trick u into thinking i’m normal and like chill and have good music taste and then u start getting to know me and my lore and then you go ohhh no this girl is a bit strange she’s a bit weird she’s cringe. worst of all she still listens to the songs from winx club

[sharkieboi]

okay Aabria’s experience watching LOTR for the first time with a bunch of longtime fans is so relatable cause fucking SAME I still have not watched LOTR and I have had multiple friends who are big big fans tell me they’re gonna make me watch all of them and so far no one has followed through but I know for a fact I will also afterwards be like “I’m allowed to not get that, right?”

[pissfizz]

I’m going to lose my mind oh my god I am so scared for this quincenera wtf

[fakeoutbf]

.

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[livvyofthelake]

cup that i’ve used for my stupid chai lattes too many times that i nor the dishwasher can ever seem to wash thoroughly enough that there isn’t a faint residue of tea in it i can taste every time i try to put water in it now.

[sarabyfleetwoodmacmp3]

💭

[voiceshearingyouloud]

If you were worried about me based on my last diary entry post, worry no more! My parents are our for dinner with friends and it turns out when I’m not completely dissociated from PTSD I exist as a human being who I like and enjoy spending time with 👍

The pain from the various PTSDs gets so bad that it does convince me that life has always been and always will be pain. But that is so deeply not true and there is so much joy and love in my life and there always has been and always will be. It’s so so lovely to feel that again. I am such a lucky person in so many ways, mainly because of my partner (I still pinch myself wondering what they see in me) but also my friends and uni and my brother and so many other wonderful things.

I know once my parents get back I’ll probably get triggered again, but I had genuinely forgotten what it felt like to not be in fight or flight (or freeze, really) so hopefully having this now will sustain me for another month until they go on holiday. If I can figure out how not to get triggered at work then I should be in a much better place, because that’s been making things a thousand times worse.

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[k9wa]

𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.

⠀ OR

⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.

⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k

boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.

a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.

as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.

“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”

you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 

“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”

you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.

“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”

boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.

“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 

“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 

“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”

you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.

“how’d it happen?”

boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.

“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”

boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.

“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”

the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.

“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.

“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”

boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.

“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.

“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”

the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.

(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)

you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.

“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.

“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”

boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 

“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”

that censor really was gonna drive him insane.

“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”

it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.

“feel fine?”

boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.

“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 

boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 

“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”

you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 

boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.

the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.

“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”

you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.

“what are you talking about?” 

“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.

you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.

“make a fist,”

boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.

“open it,”

he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.

“hold up two fingers,”

boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.

“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”

boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.

“least one o’us can say it…” 

“do you want me to fix you or not?”

“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”

you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.

boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.

it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.

“something the matter?”

boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.

“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.

“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”

boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.

yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.

boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.

“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”

each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.

“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”

you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.

boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.

“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”

you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”

this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.

you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.

boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.

“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 

he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 

“just like watching you squirm.”

you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.

“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 

boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.

“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.

you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 

so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 

his own dream, now his downfall. 

boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!

“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”

he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 

as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[lilgynt]

my brothers leaving town and jesus whole event had me stressed out. it was good and nothing bad happened but i ran through a 500 mg weed pen within maybe. 2 to 3 days at least 85 percent and im still stressed.