#anything that's wrong can be blamed on google

[hoperaypegasus]

Savannah Speculation

So, Team Wild Fang wasn’t always the representatives of the entire African continent. They originally started off just as the reps from a fictional country called Savannah. Now, the information we are really told about this country sums up to this: it’s small, poor, has very few people, and really, really needs trade partners. 

Out of all the groups we see, they are one of two groups with blended blended countries of origin (Kyoya and Benkei from Japan, Nile hinted at from Egypt, and Demure from a primarily grasslands country), the other being the EU representatives. 

However, unlike Team Excalibur, they only started out being representative of one country, who apparently had so few bladers that they had to turn to opening the selection tournament to make a mark on the global stage.

So what’s the backstory of Savannah? What put the small country in such a tight spot? And where in Africa is it even located? Well, with a little research and a whole ton of hyperfixation, I believe I have a pretty solid theory.

One: Savannah’s Location

We are told that Savannah is a small African country. However, since Africa is the second largest continent, that really does not help us much. All it did was eliminate the other continents.

The first hints towards Savannah’s exact location are its climate. The area around Rock City (the location of the selection tournament), appears to mostly fall into the semi arid type of climate. Therefore, we can cancel out all areas that are purely arid or grassland, leaving us with this search area.

Now that doesn’t look as helpful as it actually is, because our darling dearest Beyblade loves dramatic opening shots. And from that, we know there is a more arid are of the country as well, further narrowing it down to places with both. And Kyoya walks through a more arid area, however, it is primarily rocks, not just sand. Which is a huge clue, as there are four deserts within Africa that have a large amount of rocks in them: The Kalahari, The Karoo, The Chalbi, and The Guban. These narrow our map of possible locations to look like this.

Now, we are looking at exactly five countries that could have given up some of their land to form Savannah. In the south, we have Namibia, Botswana, and South Africa. And in the east, we have Kenya and Somalia. I’m going to go ahead and eliminate South Africa off this list as it rejoined the British Empire after the end of Apartheid in 1994, which is really recent, as well as it being a huge and well known country around the world so it would likely remain untouched.

Next to go is Botswana. This is mainly due to how it is hinted that Wild Fang arrived in Japan by boat. Now, I understand that they were likely coming from India, but we also see Rock City. That is Savannah’s capital and if they had an airport, it is likely to be there. But we see no signs of one, so I’m choosing to believe their main mode of transport off the continent was boat and Botswana is landlocked.

Now we’re down to Namibia, Kenya, and Somalia. Now we focus on the other aspects of Savannah we know. That it’s really, really, poor. That eliminates Namibia off the list in my opinion because they are already well know in the diamond industry and any splinter country off them would likely immediately be absorbed into it as well. So we’re down to Kenya and Somalia. 

Kenya does have a larger GDP than Namibia. However, Kenya has a large amount of tourism industry in its borders, which functions (according to what i read) as one of its primary sources of income. A splinter country would not have that infrastructure ready and judging by how all officials we see are in military-esque uniforms, the country is pretty new. It would have to rely on another main source of income that is common in Kenya, agriculture.

Somalia has the lowest GDP of the final two countries and its main source of income is agriculture, specifically livestock. Easier to set up in a young country, and decently easy to integrate into the trade market of, agriculture is my best guess on what Savannah’s main export is.

Now you are realizing that both of those countries seem to fit all the requirements, and you’d be right. So here’s my final purposed location for Savannah: right in-between the two.

The semi arid and arid climates line up perfectly, as does the naval transportation and rocky deserts. Savannah is a newly formed country between Kenya and Somalia.

Two: Savannah’s Origins

We’re into the speculation section now. 

I’ve mentioned Savannah as a newly formed country a few times, and this is mainly due to unlike nearly every other county, it does not have trade partners. It has no economic support from others and is clearly struggling. They do not care about accurately representing their country’s culture (ie the open to all selection tournament). And that could be because they don’t have a single central country culture yet. The country is still setting into its new role as one, and any representative would settle into that role with it, so it does not matter their country of origin (and the rep team probably were granted citizenship as soon as they were selected, meaning they are now at least dual citizens there). 

Another hint that the country is really newly formed is that fact that all officials we see are in military clothing. Now, government officials with military backgrounds aren’t odd, but literally every official we see are in uniform. That’s really common after a fight for independence in particular, as people seen as hero’s are likely to get elected into office. 

So, they recently won a war or battle of some kind for independence and are still coming up with their identity. They are very accepting of outside aid at the current moment (due to financial situations). It is also likely that they flourished during the World Championships and are in much better shape than when we first see them due to Wild Fang’s success.

Purposed Savannahian Stuff

National Animal: Lion (Hence the team name being Wild Fang since we see names being chosen for teams)

National Plant: Acacia Trees (The only large plants there we see)

National Languages: Swahili, Somali, Arabic, and English

Citizen’s Title: Savannahian

Exports: Agriculture (primarily livestock and fish) and Natural Resources (jewels)

Flag: 

[neuroticboyfriend]

im never going to get quality healthcare am i

[frankencanon]

^

If you're like me you recognized the name "Steven Spielberg" but have absolutely no idea what he actually worked on, so here's a link to his filmography on Wikipedia so you know what to avoid.

The devil works hard but the Hollywood propaganda machine and the White liberals who take part in it work harder.

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader. In the aftermath of your apartment flooding, Sukuna makes you a deal that is too good to pass up. You don't fully know what you're agreeing to, but if you did would it have really changed anything? Reader POV

cw: Sukuna may seem like just a nice guy stepping up but really he's a red flag you're just too tired to see. It's hinted reader has not been treated well in the past but no specifics.

You hadn't known what to do when you woke up to the sound of rushing water. You had acted on instinct and grabbed your daughter from the room next to yours and stood in the kitchen, calling your landlord from the number on your lease to no avail. Your daughter was starting to get fussy and after the fourth attempt with no answer, you felt lost.

Your ex hadn't exactly been the reliable type and he probably would have just contributed by cursing and complaining about shitty landlords and even shittier affordable housing but that wouldn't have helped then and thinking about it wasn't helping you now. Single, alone with your daughter who was growing more disgruntled by the minute.

You hated to even consider but, there was someone who you kept coming back to that you thought could help.

Sukuna.

The tattooed man across the hallway hadn't struck you as the friendly type, but he had proved you wrong in the few months since you moved in. He looked like the type of guy you would cross the street to avoid, but he always had time to stop and talk to you when he saw you. He also always made it a point to say hello to your daughter and listen to her rambles, even when they didn't make sense to you.

Your other neighbors had warned you about him. Stories that included threats and assaults you just couldn't connect to the man who had taken you and your daughter to the aquarium when your piece of shit ex bailed on you both, again.

You had googled him afterwards and what you saw was pages and pages that included things like attempted, suspected and scarier words like murder, hospitalized and other things that just didn't fit with the man you were still getting to know.

The water was still falling and once your daughter started waking up, you called it and went over to the maybe scary man across the hall, who never scared you.

Within ten minutes, you found yourself in Sukuna's guest room while he stayed behind at your apartment to figure everything out. When was the last time someone told you, "I got it." You were always the responsible one. You were the mom friend, the girlfriend people liked to introduce to their parents. You had basically parented yourself!

But now, there was someone who told you that, "I got it."

So who could blame you for going along with what came next. When the next morning came and Sukuna told you that your super had come too late and the apartment was damage and you couldn't stop yourself from putting your head in your hands as your daughter happily munched on the pancakes he had made you both.

"What am I going to do," you groaned and you couldn't help but lean in when Sukuna placed his hand on your cheek.

"He said he would put you up in a hotel until it can be fixed," he said gently and you sighed. You envisioned the next several months in some shitty motel with no kitchen, sharing a lumpy bed with your two year-old, disrupting the routines you had been trying so hard to build as a single mom. No more afternoon trips to the park that was less than a block away. No more feeding the ducks with your leftover veggies or sharing pick up duties with the other moms at the daycare by your work.

"This sucks, I don't want to have to build my life all over again." And you really didn't. This was so frustrating and over what, a little water damage?

"Well," Sukuna started and he tilted your head so you were looking at him. "I do have the guest room. You could move some of your stuff over here and camp out until it's fixed. Pocket the hotel money, use it for something for the kid."

"Oh, I couldn't impose on you like that-"

"I wouldn't offer if it was an imposition," he said, his eyes glinting and for just a second you could see a little of the danger your neighbors had told you about, but then it was gone and he was leaning over you to take another pancake from the serving tray and putting it on your daughter's empty plate.

"It's not just for you, I would-I would feel a lot better knowing the both of you were taken care of. I doubt the hotel that-" he cut off looking over at your daughter, "you know is putting you up in is going to be the safest place for the two of you."

You couldn't believe you were considering it but you were so tired. You felt like life had just become a series of less than ideal circumstances you were forced to deal with just because you didn't want to settle for the wrong guy or give your daughter less than she deserved.

"I would pay rent," you said and he looked ready to argue but you held up your hand. He smiled, amused and gestured go on. "Just until they can fix the apartment and if we get to be too much tell me. We can tough it out in a hotel. We've dealt with worse," you added and he frowned before nodding.

"Deal." He turned to look at your daughter and smiled. "You hear that bug, you and mommy are moving in." Your daughter giggled and clapped her syrup covered hands.

"Temporarily," you reminded him and he smiled at you.

"Right, let's go grab the stuff you'll need while you're here temporarily." He went grabbed a towel and wiped your daughters hands while she kept laughing and chanting "move in, move in!"

Is it your fault that you didn't know that your circumstances were anything but temporary?

[tobesolonely]

untitled angsty but then sweet piece...

hello guys!! it's been like over a year lol. I was going through my google doc and found this and I feel like I never posted it? so now I am posting it. maybe this can be a part 1 but also we know I'm great at starting multipart stories and not finishing them so lets see

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

warnings: none (~1.2k words)

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“You're just gonna ignore me then, babe?”

Y/N continues silently puttering around in the kitchen, going out of her way to make sure her back remained turned on Harry. There weren't many ways to get under his skin, but throughout her years of being with him she learned that being on the receiving end of the silent treatment usually made him fold pretty quickly. She was annoyed with her husband and the fact that he seemed clueless as to why made her even more upset.  

“I take your silence as a yes?” 

More puttering. More re-wiping the already clean counters. Starting the tea kettle. Washing her hands. Anything to not acknowledge Harry, really.

“I can’t make it better if you don't tell me why you're so upset, love,” he takes a tentative step toward her. “I know we've been together for ages but I still can't read your mind. Think ‘m gettin’ real close, though.”

This is said jokingly, and she knows her husband is just trying to dissipate the tension that's thick in their kitchen, making the spacious room seem impossibly small. She doesn't acknowledge his joke, doesn't crack a smile because that would give him too much satisfaction. Nothing made Harry cockier than being the reason for Y/N’s laugh, a sound so sweet she’s pretty sure he’d forbid everyone on the planet except him from listening to it because he wanted it all to himself. He always told her it was music to his ears.

The fact that he doesn't even know what he did is what finally causes her to break, muttering about how fucking ridiculous he is under her breath. It's not lost on Harry. 

“Now you've moved on from ignoring me to cursing at me?” he sounds more curious than upset, taking another step toward her. She backs away, defensively crossing her arms over her chest and she doesn't miss the way Harry’s brow furrows at the action. “Can y’please tell me what I did, Y/N? Please?” When she looks down at the ground, ignoring his please, he begs some more. He’s not above groveling, really. 

“Please, angel? Lemme fix it,” his eyes are wide and wild as he wildly searches hers for some clue as to what he did wrong. “Tell me-”

“Am I always just gonna come second with you?” 

She can almost see the wheels in her husband’s head turning, knows he's choosing his words carefully before he speaks so as not to upset her any further. 

“Okay, love,” he runs a ringer hand through his hair. “Can you be a little bit more specific?”

“We had plans this afternoon, Harry. We were gonna try that new café that just opened. I was looking forward to it,” she doesn't care if this makes her sound selfish and childish. “I know you were working and I know you how much you love to do that, but sometimes I feel like-”

“Don’t even finish that thought,”  Harry cuts her off and his tone is sharp, calloused. “That’s not true.”

“You know, at first I was worried something happened when you didn't show,” Y/N continues like she didn't hear him. “But then I realized nope, you probably just forgot or couldn't get out of another meeting. Just like always.”

A look of sadness flashes across Harry’s face, which quickly transforms to indignant anger. “Don't throw this in my face, Y/N. You know how much I hate that.” 

“So I’m supposed to be mindful of the things you hate, but you can't be mindful of the things I hate?”

“You don't get it,” he mumbles under his breath, growing increasingly done with the conversation the longer it drags on. “You're not in the industry. I can't just always leave-” 

“Then blame it on me! Make me the bad guy, Harry,” she finally turns all the way around to face him completely. “The people you work with get to see you more than I do…the fans…” Y/N trails off, letting her unfinished thoughts hang limply in the air. 

It’s quiet between the couple for no more than thirty seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. Harry breaks it first - he always does. He inhaled a deep shaky breath, trying to call forward the breathing techniques his therapist taught him to use in high-stress situations. Right now counts as a high-stress situation. 

“You’re right, angel,” the pet name slips off his tongue easily which comforts Y/N. Harry’s not as upset as she thought he was. He’s still her Harry. “That’s not fair of me, is it?”

All Y/N can do is shake her head, lower lip jutted out. She knows if she tries speaking she’ll start crying, and she doesn't want to cry. All she wants is for Harry to understand. Harry however, knows her too well. He knows the look she gets on her face when she's trying really hard not to cry and he knows she goes silent because she doesn't trust her voice not to come out shakey. He decides to continue talking.

“I should've called you and let you know I’d be late- or told you we needed to reschedule. I’m sorry I left you hanging, darling.” He pauses, selecting his next words very wisely. Harry knows his wife is sensitive. The last thing he wants is for her to think he's blaming her for anything. “...but it seems like this is about more than me missing our lunch. Which, again, I'm very sorry about. I'm taking you wherever you want for dinner tonight and I'll make you dessert when we get home. Let's talk more about this though, yeah?”

“You also have to be in charge of picking up after Hershey for a month,” Y/N responds with a small smile on her face. Hershey was the couple’s tiny brown poodle who was the cutest puppy in the world. “Thank you.”

“Mmm,” Harry hums, knowing his wife was trying to keep the conversation lighthearted since she hated confrontation. Since being with Harry her communication skills have improved tremendously since he was so good at it and wanted to talk about everything, but healthy communication clearly still didn't come as easily to her. “Talk to me, angel. What’s this about?”

Harry’s in front of her now, arms wrapped limply around her waist. He walks her backward until the small of her back hits the counter then he tells her to, “jump” so he can lift her onto the counter. Once she's situated he settles himself in between her legs and places his arms back on their place on her waist. Harry looks intently into Y/N’s eyes and she knows she won’t be leaving that spot until she tells him what's bothering her, so she just says it.

“I want a baby.” 

Harry raises his eyebrows in quick surprise before breaking out in a wide grin- the kind that causes his nose to scrunch up and wrinkles to form around his eyes. 

“You want a baby? W’ me?”

Y/N doesn’t return his smile, which quickly makes Harry’s turn into a frown.

“Why don’t you look happy?”

Y/N sighs, her eyes avoiding Harry’s. He gently places his index finger under her chin and pushes it up, forcing her to look into his eyes. He’s desperately searching his wife’s eyes, trying to figure out why she isn’t more excited about coming to this big decision. Harry has been ready for years of course, but he never wanted her to feel pressured.

“You’re never here, Harry. I don’t want to feel like a single mom.” Y/N looks down again and Harry doesn’t lift her chin back up this time. In fact, he doesn’t say anything. It’s silent for what feels like a couple minutes but is actually maybe only twenty seconds, the faucet leaking being the only sound heard throughout the whole house.

“Y/N…love,” Harry inhales a shaky breath, removing one of his hands from her hip to run his fingers through his curls. “I never want to make you feel like you’re alone. Not just with this, but…with anything.” Harry gently knuckles away a stray tear falling down Y/N’s cheek. 

“I know you don’t mean to make me feel this way, H. I guess it’s just what I signed up for when I married a popstar, yeah?” Harry can tell Y/N is trying to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t like that he’s the reason for he feeling this way.

“You didn’t “sign up” for anything, love. I’m your husband and you’re my wife and we’re supposed to be there for each other through it all, good and bad.” Y/N opens her mouth to say something but Harry gently pinches her hip, muttering for her to let him finish. “I want a baby with you. I want everything with you, Y/N. I want to be here for everything. I’m going to be better about being here.”

“H…I love you and I know you’ll try, but you’ve said this before-”

“I’ll take a break, babe. Cancel everything,” Harry’s talking faster now, excitement about his plan evident in his voice. “We’ll focus on ourselves and start our family. Go out of the country and leave my bloody phone here, if you’d like.” Y/N giggles at that, which makes Harry give her a big, dimpled grin.

“Will it be okay? With Jeff and everyone?” Although Y/N’s sure people on Harry’s team won’t be happy with his sudden change in plans, she can’t deny how charming the idea sounds. She could already picture them at their favorite villa in Italy, the one Harry purchased as a wedding gift to her and where they spent their unforgettable honeymoon. In all honesty, she’s surprised they didn’t get a baby out of that trip.

“Let me worry about that. You just worry about buying yourself some new bikinis, yeah?” Harry places a lingering kiss to Y/N’s jawbone. “Perhaps a few things for me to rip off you too, hmm?”

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hooray for happy endings :')

[amaranthineghost]

can u do a charles leclerc x reader but the reader is like alexandra’s older sister pls pls pls i love my girl alex so much

HIS HEART THAT LIES WITH THE OTHER GIRL ( charles leclerc. )

charles leclerc x mleux!reader

charles and alexandra are good friends and feelings are starting to develop, but her older sister happened to be the one to catch his eye instead.

warnings: google translate french (please feel free to correct anything that's wrong)

authors note: the request was a little vague so I took some creative liberty, which honestly I enjoyed very much so THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST <333 I love alexandra so much too, she's so gorgeous!!! also taking a break after this because of my thumb (I do have a verstappen imagine already written so that's going to be out soon enough)

BEING AN OLDER SISTER MEANS MAKING SACRIFICES for your younger siblings. she had felt throughout her life that maybe she had been a little too selfish. it felt at times like she was the baby of the two because she didn't act as her role model. moments growing up that she should've taken the fall for alex because that's what it means to be an older sister, but she didn't. she hadn't thought of her younger sister as much as she should've. not a day went by that she hadn't felt guilty for developing feelings for the guy alexandra liked, the guy her sister fell for first.

alexandra had known him for longer than she had, yet she would realize his attention was elsewhere. his frequent trips to the house they both thought were originally because he really liked alex and wanted their parents to like him.

but alexandra was oblivious to where his heart really lied.

stolen glances from across the room, eyes lingering longer than they ever should've to begin with because maybe that's why it started in the first place. his damn, green eyes half-lidded and fluttering lashes every time he blinked, and leaning his head on his hand just staring at her from the other side of the room. a glance over her shoulder told her all she needed to know as she saw the monegasque driver eyeing her up and down. all she could do was turn away and hope alexandra wouldn't notice.

and she wouldn't, for the moment. waving her hand in front of the brunette’s face, he blamed it as being lost in thoughts about strategies for the next race. they laughed, simply joking it off and talking about how he should take a rest from thinking about his career.

but his attention kept slipping back to her. though he tried not to get lost in her appearance, he would fail greatly every time he was even near her. he didn't even have to be in the same room for him to be dazing off, thinking about how she would look better by his side. but he also felt the guilt she had, maybe not the same because he wasn't alexandra's older sibling developing feelings for the guy she liked.

but he had felt guilty. he would be lying if he said that he didn't like the girl at first. she was pretty, for starters, her magnetic smile and radiant personality was what had originally drawn him in. he felt bad to say that wasn't the reason he decided to stay.

it was no doubt alex was a nice girl, in fact the nicest he had ever met in his life and the most welcoming family was right behind her. and that's when he first saw her. after hanging out various times around monaco, occasionally sneaking back to his place, they decided it was time they met her side of the family. only then did alex not realize the mistake she was about to make.

when the door opened, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head, alexandra had no clue at the time, but her sister did. she nervously laughed it off as she stepped aside so alex could pull charles inside with her. the day they met was the closest they ever were in proximity as he walked past her holding the door. the addicting perfume he wore wafted by as he was pulled along into the living room where their parents were.

throughout the whole evening, he struggled to keep his gaze away from her. alexandra wouldn't notice for a long time, and by a long time, she meant it was months.

months of stolen glances, slipping into the kitchen alone with her just to help with dishes because he was ‘such a gentleman,’ but really all he was doing was just an attempt and excuse to get close to her. grazing arms as they stood next to each other despite her assuring him it was fine. every time it occured, which was more often than it should've been, he would somehow get closer.

she didn't mind because over the course of those few months, she had grown quite fond of his gaze on her, or exchanging slight touches whenever they would pass dishes between one another. when he would've acted oblivious to how to clean them when he had first offered to help, sharing laughs that only grew louder every interaction. it had evolved from awkward explanations and silence, to small talk and then casual conversations in their native languages.

but one day, everything changed. a normal conversation turned into something different when he grabbed her wrist with his cold hands covered in water and suds from the dish soap.

his face was serious and she almost didn't hear him when he uttered the words, “je t’aime bien.” (I like you).

“charles.” she only managed his name as she froze with his words, her heart dropping in her chest. this couldn't, shouldn't, be happening. he should like alexandra, not her.

“je sais,” he started as he watched her mouth part, but no words fell from her lips, “mais je t’aime beaucoup.” (I know, but I like you a lot).

“mais ma sœur,” her other hand covered his that held her to him, pursing her lips before continuing, “Elle t’aime bien.” (but my sister, she likes you.)

he nods, muttering in french under his breath stuff that she couldn't hear. she shook her head, slipping her hands from his grasp, going back to the dishes in silence, as did he.

from the door frame, unknown to them, alexandra watched with her arms crossed. when she first saw them together, she was happy they were getting along because she didn't want animosity between the pair, and her older sister never liked the guys she dated before. but she realized far too late the way charles looked at her. the way he looked at her sister was different from the way he looked at her. a spark in his eyes and more creases when he smiled. it was genuine interest as he multitasked the dishes and listened to her talk like he could do it forever. she understood, her sister was like a magnet of different energy, one that alexandra possessed, but not on her sister’s level.

the sight, and hearing his words, in front of her confirmed what she had been suspicious of for weeks. she had finally followed his gaze to her, whether she was sat across the couch from the two, or if she had sauntered off to another room. whenever she would fold laundry with them in the room, how charles would always offer to help. she didn't notice a lot the first time, how her sister gazed between her and charles like she was going to notice his behavior. how bad his folding was, so much so that she had to take the clothes from his hands and show him how to properly do it, and how gentle he handled every item.

it wasn't like he wasn't sweet with alex, but she began to notice how much care he put into his actions that involved her. while it hurt at first because she was so deeply involved with him, she realized that maybe, just maybe, that her sister deserved him more than she did.

because from her view, her older sister gave up everything for her baby sister. even if she didn't recognize it herself, alexandra knew that over the years, she had done more for her and she didn't know how to return the favor at the time. she didn't know what could match the level she set herself.

but seeing the way they genuinely clicked, she knew that this one time, she would be the one to have to make a sacrifice. it didn't mean that her older sister was no longer mature, it just meant that she had a way to pay her back for all she had done. if that meant giving up the guy she had begun to love, she would do it. she would do it to see her sister happy for once because this was the first time in a while that she was. she wanted it to stay that way.

so when early morning came the next day, when charles had long walked out the door the previous night and sent a small smile they thought alex didn't notice, she sat down at the island. arms crossed on the cold granite counters as she sat on the cushioned barstool, watching her sister dance about the kitchen making breakfast.

she knew if she didn't speak up now, she would never, and their love story would've never had the potential to bloom.

“je sais.” (I know).

“que veux-tu dire?” (what do you mean?) her sister chuckled as she poured a glass of orange juice, looking at her with her brow raised as she turned back to the fridge.

“je sais que charles t’aime bien.” (I know charles likes you). she froze, the cold air leaking from the fridge as she stood with the orange juice jug in her hands before regaining composure and continuing on with her actions.

“je lui ai dit non, je sais que tu l'aimes bien,” (I told him no, I know you like him). she stood in front of alexandra, fearing that her sister had grown angry with her, but she knew she couldn't control charles’ feelings, and neither could her sister.

“tu aurais dû dire que tu l'aimais en retour,” (you should have said you liked him back). alexandra leaned closer, her hand raising in a gesture to her that she made a mistake by shying away, “j'irai bien.” (i will be fine).

she shook her head, the glass of orange juice on the counter clutched in her hand, “ce n'est pas juste pour toi.” (it's not fair to you).

“mais il te rend heureux,” (he makes you happy though). she sighed with a small smile, leaning back in the barstool, “dit lui.” (tell him).

“okay,” she threw her hands up in exasperation, reaching for her phone across the counter to text charles and tell him to come over, “il est en route.” (he's on his way).

“bien.” she smiled, standing up and leaving her in the kitchen.

her heart was racing. was she really going to do this? she had turned him down less than a day ago and now she was going to simply accept his abrupt confession. she rubbed her fingers to her temple and sighed, leaning down against the counter as she ate.

she didn't have to wait long to hear a familiar knock pattern he did to alert anyone that it was him.

she walked to the door slowly, like she could lose her balance if she went any quicker. cracking her knuckles with anxiety, she hesitantly opened the door to see his smiling face as if she didn't reject him.

say it. say it.

it repeated in her head as she took a deep breath while he stood confused. her face began to flush and he was wondering when he was going to be let in.

one last deep breath did the trick.

“je vous aime aussi,” (I like you too). she blurted out so quickly, he looked at her with a confused smile and a tilted head.

“qu'est-ce que c'était, chérie?” (what was that, darling?) his voice was teasing and she knew he knew what she said because now he was just messing with her.

“je vous aime aussi.”

“bien,” his hand wrapped around the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hand while their lips collided. her eyes widening in shock as her hands met the sides of his face, teetering on the edge of his hair.

when they finally parted, deep breaths being the only thing heard as they simply smiled giddily at each other like teenagers. he twirled her hair on his finger as he looked at her with such deep admiration, more than she would've ever thought. the sacrifice her younger sister made paid her back ten times over, and the only things she could do was either just hug her in appreciation, or set her up with one of charles’ friends.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @thearchieves

proofread by @foreveralbon <3

[augustinewrites]

“let me take you to dinner tonight.”

you look up from the handful of tulips you’re binding with twine to meet reo’s expectant gaze. 

“no.”

“come on,” he grins, taking the bouquet and placing it with the others. “we eat together all the time. in fact, we’ve already shared one morning coffee and one afternoon picnic. that’s basically two dates.”

“you mean the morning you brought me an overpriced coffee and the afternoon you almost fought a pigeon over french fries in front of my flowers?” 

he doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with your statement, nodding fervently. “yeah. we’ve covered morning and afternoon. the next natural course of action is to have dinner together.” 

he must read the hesitation in your expression, placing a hand over yours. electricity zips through your veins, but you don’t pull away. 

“hey, no pressure. no expectations,” he tells you softly. “just think of it as dinner between friends.”

“can i at least think about it?” 

“of course.” he checks his watch. “you have about ten hours to decide because i kind of already made a reservation.”

of course he did. because for all of your banter, he knows you could never say no to him. 

“okay, fine, i’ll go out with you. but only because you’re cute when you beg.” you decide, rolling your eyes when he does a quick fist pump. 

“i am cute, thank you. and i know i said to think of it as dinner between friends, but if at any point you feel the overwhelming urge to kiss me, you have my complete consent.” 

“go to work, reo,” you laugh, gently pushing his shoulder. 

“i’ll text you the details!”

_____

reo isn’t sure why he’s so nervous. he’s always been great at first dates– better than average, some might say. but something’s different this time around. maybe it’s the restaurant’s lighting, or maybe it’s the fact that it’s his first date with you. 

he’d come a little early and ordered a bottle of wine, knee bouncing under the table as he scrolled through his phone in an attempt to chase his nerves away. 

thankfully it’s not long before he spots the hostess leading you to the table (a few more minutes and he certainly would have spiraled). he’s quick to stand, walking around the table to greet you.

“hi,” he says, handing you a bouquet of roses before pulling your seat out for you. 

“these are beautiful, thank you,” you say, reo beaming as you gingerly hug the blooms to your chest.

once you’re both seated, he sneaks a glance at you before opening his menu. you look a little nervous, restlessly shifting in your chair and shifting your gaze around the room. 

“i’m sorry,” you blurt, curling in on yourself as if you’re embarrassed. “this place is– i probably should have googled it first. i’m so underdressed, i feel like everyone’s looking at me...” 

“of course they’re all looking at you. you’re the prettiest person in the room.”

(and, oh man, the way you look at him when he says that…it was like being bathed in soft sunshine. he could sit there and bask in it all day.)

but you lift your menu to hide your bashful expression and reo reaches across the table to pour you a bottle of wine, just to give himself something to do with his hands. 

“everything’s so expensive,” you murmur. 

the restaurant he’d chosen was one he was familiar with, customary for business meetings. he supposed it was on the higher end of the price range, but it only added to his ability to impress. 

money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy you a nice dinner and a pretty good bottle of wine. 

“i asked you out, i’m paying.” 

“we can just split it–” 

“it’s fine,” he waves off. “but if you insist, you can just cover the next one.”

you look up from your menu, amused. “we just sat down and you’re already asking me on a second date?”

he meets your gaze, grinning. “can you blame me?”

_____

despite the initial shock you’d received upon entering the restaurant, you slowly feel yourself begun to loosen up. maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the fact that reo is…admittedly a really good date. 

(not just because he’s nice to look at, in a nice shirt with the two topmost buttons undone and trousers that hug his rear perfectly)

as the night wears on, you tell him a bit about yourself. about the things you like to do in your free time, your pet at home, how you ended up running a flower stall in the concrete jungle of downtown tokyo. he listens intently when you talk, asking questions here and there to convey his interest.

though he mostly keeps the conversation focused on you, he tells you about himself too. he talks about the recreational league he plays with on the weekends and the roommate that’s been his best friend since high school. he even talks about the charity gala he’s going to next weekend, representing his family’s business (it’s legit, you can google it! he laughs).

you actually know of the gala he’s talking about. it’s an annual fundraiser, and the order they’d put in at the flower shop you used to work at was one of the most expensive you’d ever seen. 

he insists on ordering dessert, the two of you sharing a piece of cheesecake as the night draws to a close. but before it does, you have to ask, 

“why did you ask me out?” 

he looks at you, seeming genuinely confused by your question. “what do you mean?”

you set your fork down, shrugging. “i’m not really your…type.”

“i have a type?” 

“influencers, ceo’s daughters, models…” you say, to list a few.

“you did google me when i was in the bathroom,” he laughs. he doesn’t seem offended, just amused.

you did google him, which is how you know he’s had a string of high profile relationships - and eventual breakups.

“your last date,” you remember. “why didn’t you see her again?”

he takes another bite of the cheesecake, chewing thoughtfully before answering, “nothing was wrong with her. she just weren’t right for me.”

“but i am?”

he pauses, then answers confidently, “i think you might be, yeah.” 

“is this the part where you tell me that we’re soulmates?” you tease, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours under the table. you’re trying to maintain a cool composure, but your heart is doing somersaults in your chest.

“no, because i’m a businessman,” he answers, nudging you back. “i believe in free will. when i see an opportunity, i just go for it. i’m not going wait for the universe to decide when i’ll get to be with my one true love.”

“so you believe in the human experience. subjective and objective choices. what about fate?”

“isn’t fate just a result of everyone’s choices? something inevitable, unavoidable.”

“description’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” you counter. “think of it this way, i chose to set up my stall outside the restaurant, but it was fate that you were heading into it that night, which led to me being in this moment with you.” 

“one could argue that was just coincidence,” he points out. 

“you could. but maybe it was serendipity.” 

“now you’re just making up words,” he laughs, prompting you to throw your napkin at him. 

then he leans his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers and resting his chin atop them. “to put it simply— i am here right now. it wasn’t some inevitable thing because i chose to be here. with you.” 

influencers, ceo’s daughters, models. he could be with anyone else in japan, but he chose to be here with you. at the beginning of the night, you weren’t really sure what to expect from him, judging from your brief encounters at your flower stall. you’d known he was decently charming, sure, but tonight you’re getting the full picture. 

and the way he looks at you now…it was like you hung the moon and stars. 

“i like when you say it like that,” you admit, feeling heat bloom across your cheeks. 

“the philosophy course i took in university is paying off then.” 

you’re about to do something completely stupid like kiss him when you realize just how quiet it is in the restaurant. you’d been so distracted, so enamoured with the man in front of you that everything else had blurred into the background.

you lean back to look around. it’s completely empty, save for the waitstaff and hostess. 

“did we stay past closing?” you frown, wondering how you’d lost track of time. 

“it’s fine,” he assures you, reaching across the table to place a hand over yours. “i told you i made a reservation.”

“for the entire restaurant?!”

again, he doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with your statement. “what did you think i meant?”

[alotofpockets]

Not scared | Mary Earps x Reader

Where Mary isn't a fan of horror, but you love a good horror game

A/n: This was requested with reader playing FNAF, which I have never played. So, if the little game play I wrote is wrong, blame Google :)

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

-----

Horror was your go to genre. Movies, shows, games, if it involved horror you would check it out. Your girlfriend never liked horror, though she tried for you. She had watched a few horror movies with you at the start of your relationship, but she ended up crawling into your side for comfort and closing her eyes most of the movie. Not that you minded of course. Horror wasn't for everyone, but she tried for you and that was enough for you.

When you started living together, you decided that you would watch and play your horror stuff when Mary was out of the house. So, on your days off while Mary would be training, you were often found watching a horror movie or playing a horror game.

Your latest obsession was Five Nights at Freddy’s. The only game you had been playing for weeks. Just when you started the game up for the day, you heard rain drops hitting the window. “Perfect.” You thought, the rougher the weather outside, the more intense anything horror was.

The rain had started out as a slight drizzle, but quickly escalated into a full rainstorm. The rain came pouring down and hitting your window loudly. You were loving it in combination with your game, but you hoped for your girlfriend that they would be able to train indoors today.

That thought was quickly answered as a soaking wet Mary walked through the front door of your apartment. “Oh love.” You instantly paused your game and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel for her. 

“I take it you weren't training inside then?” She gratefully took the towel you handed her and dried off her face. “They were doing some construction in the gym today, so we kept training outside. The weather update changed and warned of an approaching thunderstorm, so they sent us home just to stay on the safe side.”

Before Mary was able to take her shoes off, a loud clash of thunder sounded outside. “Well, there it is.” You joked. “I’m glad that you are safely back inside.” Mary smiled, grateful as well. She looked over to the tv, “Go continue your game, I'm gonna take a hot shower to warm up a bit.” She pecked your lips before she rushed to the bathroom. After you quickly dried up the water drops that Mary left in her trail, you plopped back down on the couch.

The intensity of the game quickly pulled you back in, and you didn’t even hear your girlfriend approaching. The moment you saw movement in your peripheral vision, you jumped up, making the both of you laugh. “Now you know how I always feel.” Mary said with a big grin on her face.

You went to close off the game, but Mary stopped you. “You can keep playing.” You thought it was kind of Mary to let you keep playing even if the game scared her, but you had also decided that you wouldn’t bother her with horror stuff, not wanting her to be scared. “Are you sure? I don't mind turning it off.” She nodded, “Yeah, just because my plans changed, doesn't mean yours should too.” She sat down beside you and watched you play. 

Your focus returned to your game where the dim flickering lights didn't help much to lighten up the security office your character was sitting in. The comfortable sound of a low humming fan in the background filled your surroundings. But then a loud screech, followed by mechanical laughter filled your living room. Mary, who had been fine up until now, quickly moved closer to you and hid her face into your shoulder, just like with the movies in the early days of your relationship. You smile at the familiar feeling of her tight hold on your arm, and the way she slowly peeked over your shoulder from time to time.

The sudden change in the sound made you check the security cameras, only to catch Chica’s unsettling grin spreading over the screen. The moment it flashed on the screen, you felt Mary getting scared as she jumped up a little.

“Darling, I can turn it off.” Mary sat up and shook her head. “No no, keep playing. I'm not scared.” You chuckled of course she wasn't. You pressed play again and the eerie scene continued. Mary really tried to be brave and continued to watch by peeking over your shoulder from time to time.

As the security footage didn’t help much, because Chica filled the screen, you stepped away from the footage again. The moment you did that the lights that were once still flickering, turned off completely. No more shadows, only the mechanical noises getting closer and closer. The suspense was building up and before something could happen in the game, the sound of a loud thunder filled your home.

Mary jumped up and screamed at the top of her lungs. You chuckle, “Not scared, huh?” You pause the game once again. This time you put the controller to the side and bring your girlfriend in for a hug. As funny as it was to see her react this way, you also didn’t want her to be scared. 

“Alright, how do you feel about a comedy movie?” Mary clung to your side, her heart still beating rapidly. “I don't want to keep you from your game.” You thought it was sweet, but also you weren't going to frighten your girlfriend just to play a game. “And I don't want you to be scared, so we're going to do something together that we both like.”

Mary seemed at peace with that and let you save your game and open up Netflix. You scrolled through the comedy section together until you found a movie you both wanted to see.

The thunder kept rolling around and lightning flashes kept lighting up the room, but the comedy on the tv made it a little less scary. Still Mary was cuddled up to your side, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! 💗

[suckerforblondeathletes]

Comfort Calls - Ingrid Engen

Ingrid Engen X Fem!Reader

Summary: Comforting Ingrid after the... rather unpleasant... game when she was in Norway

Warnings: Had to use that picture of Ingrid lol, Sad Ingrid and reader, use of Norwegian, translations into English listed! If the translation is wrong don't blame me, blame translate on google.

Authors Note: Find of short but hope you enjoy!

You felt your heart shatter when the game whistle blew, Norway had lost a very important game, a devastating loss was felt all over Norway, and the team.

Your thoughts immediately get to your girlfriend, the beautiful, kind Norwegian who you gave your heart too on December 16, 2022.

You knew she would be upset, everyone would.

Your questions were answered when the tv cut to a clip of all of the Norwegians crying on the pitch, your brunette girlfriend being one of them.

You felt tears prickle your eyes just watching her cry, hours away, you couldn't do any thing from Barcelona but watch her cry.

Unable to wrap your arms around her until she feels better.

After the match, and about 2 hours after, you decided to call her. Knowing you gave her enough time to calm down and go back to the hotel.

The phone rang for 3 second before being picked up. You could hear sniffles in the background, signaling she had been crying in her hotel room.

"Hey baby, are you okay?" Your voice calm and comforting, knowing that she is in a vulnerable state and very upset.

"Yeah, just disappointed." Your heart breaks again hearing the sadness and quietness in her voice, you aren't not used to hearing your happy and bubbly girlfriend so upset.

"I wish I could be there with you right now, babe." The words getting stuck in your throat, and your throat starting to burn by holding back tears.

"I wish you could be here too kjærlighet, very badly." (Love) She breaks out into tears mid sentence, making you start to cry as well.

"Its okay baby, you can cry as much as you want to." You never wanted to jump through the phone and kiss and hug someone so badly as you did right now.

You both sat there for a couple minutes as she calmed down and she spoke again.

"I tried really hard, I didn't want to disappoint you." She says the last sentence quieter, almost hard to hear but you caught it.

"Love you didn't disappoint me at all. You never could do anything to disappoint me. Never, do you understand?" Seriousness is heard in your voice, the voice you rarely use with her but you wanted her to know you were serious.

"Yes, jeg elsker deg så mye" (I love you so much) You could hear a smile in her voice, she always smiled when she said she loved you. She didn't know why she did, but she couldn't hold back a smile when she would say the words.

She also almost never said it in English. not that she couldn't, she just wanted you to know she seriously meant it when she used her mother tongue."

"I love you too baby, get some rest my love and I will see you soon."

"Okay, goodnight kjærlighet, you get some sleep too," (Love) You hear another smile in her words and smile to yourself at the sound.

"Yes of course, goodnight babe." You make a kiss sound into the phone and she mirrors it before hanging up.

When the call ends you smile before putting the phone away, you always knew after hard away games, all she needed was a comfort call from her girlfriend, and she would be just fine.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[sorchathered]

I can love you through the dark

Pairing- Jake Seresin x OC (Savannah Monroe-Seresin)

Warnings- language, angst, mentions of death, pregnancy, ptsd

Summary- sometimes the past keeps Jake up at night, but she is always there to bring him back from the dark.

A/N- an old WIP I found deep in my Google docs that I thought could use some love. Not beta read.

———————————————————————————-

Jake Seresin had a short fuse. He’d been working on that.

He kept his composure as Rooster threw that cheap shot at him, brushing it off despite the shock all over everyone’s faces by the pool table. “The only place you’ll lead someone is an early grave.” It rang in his ears later that night, Coyote was too damn perceptive as he watched his friend from across the shitty barracks room they were assigned to.

“I’m fine” Jake grunted as he stared at the ceiling, trying to will the thoughts away.

Two years. It’d been two years since his former wingman Torch had lost his life in a field exercise gone wrong. Jake had been cleared of any wrongdoing but he knew; if he’d watched his teammate’s back like he should have Torch would still be alive.

He’d worked his ass off to prove he was the best ever since, and refused to let anyone else in again after that day. Maybe that’s why he was so frustrated with Rooster, he cared too much where Jake refused to care at all. The mission was what mattered now; not making friends. All getting close to someone guaranteed was that you had more to lose, and Jake couldn’t bear to lose anything or anyone else.

“How are things going?” The soft voice filtered through the speaker of his phone as he paced the halls, another night full of nightmares and no sleep.

“It’s going. This is a big one, everyone who’s anyone is here and I worry that they aren’t taking it as serious as they should.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face, he shouldn’t be on the phone with her right now, one of them at least needed to get some rest.

“You need to take care of yourself, and try to be a team player-“

He barked out a laugh at that and he could just see her shaking her head and sighing, she knew he couldn’t afford to get close to someone like that again, no one knew better than she did.

“Jake. I need your head in the game. I can’t do this without you, I- I need you to come home ok?” She was crying, he’d promised he’d do everything he could to never make her cry and here she was getting upset over him again.

“Sweetheart I’m not going anywhere, but you need to rest ok? I’ll be good, I’ll be the very best. Take care of yourself and our little angel. I love you Savvy, fuck- I love you so much.”

They said their goodbyes and Jake slept for the first time since he’d gotten back to Miramar.

Savannah “Savvy” Monroe had been Torch’s high school sweetheart, she’d followed him wherever the navy took him until that fateful day when his plane had gone down. She’d always seemed like an unstoppable force until then, and Jake watched one of his best friend’s crumble and turn into a shell of the woman she’d been. It seemed obvious to everyone but him that they would seek solace in each other, no one blamed them for how they chose to stitch themselves back together, and while they started a new life together Jake couldn’t help but struggle with the guilt.

She’d dragged him to therapy after a big fight, he’d walked out her early in their relationship; determined to prove to her that he didn’t deserve her love and push her to hate him as much as he hated himself. 6 months later he’d finally found himself again, only to find out that Savvy was pregnant. He couldn’t help but wish Torch was here, and his therapist told him it was not only normal but expected. He’d made an honest woman out of her quickly after that, life had proven to be too short and they wanted to start their new life with all the bows tied up nice and neat.

When the call came up to head back to top gun they were nearing the 7th month and he wanted her to stay in Texas with his mom where he knew she’d be safe and taken care of. Now he was here and all he wanted was to hold her, especially after Rooster managed to get under his skin. No one really knew that he and Sav were married, except for Javy and his wife and he wanted to keep it that way. Rooster knew Torch would always be a sore spot, and he’d pressed just the right buttons to bring Hangman to the surface. He filed that rage away for the right moment and when the time came he was ruthless, he knew it was wrong to cut Bradshaw down like that but Rooster had thrown the first punch.

When he got reduced to spare and Rooster got promoted to wingman he was almost relieved, he had too much to lose and it was easy to get caught up in the competition. He wanted to be the best, but he had to think of his family.

Mission accomplished and successful, everyone had survived and made it back to Fightertown safely. As he stepped off the carrier he heard her shouting his name and shook his head in disbelief, he should’ve known better than to think her stubborn ass wouldn’t be here waiting for him to return. She couldn’t run bless her heart but she waddled across the lot as fast as she could with a giggle as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her deeply and then dropping to his knees to talk to his baby boy.

Rooster watched from a distance, realization striking him as he took the scene in. He’d met Torch’s wife before, years ago when they were in flight school. Heat burned his cheeks as he realized that maybe- just maybe he was just as much of an ass as Jake Seresin, and maybe his judgement had been too harsh. Coyote clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, nodding his head in their direction as he watched Jake pepper kisses to her cheeks, he treated her like she were made of glass as he escorted her across the lot to his truck.

“Now you know a little something about Hangman, he wants you to think he’s a pompous ass; but the man couldn’t be more of a marshmallow. I hope to God we never have to live through what they did, don’t you agree?” Javy Machado didn’t wait for an answer, just left Rooster to ponder that thought.

He thought of his mother, broken over the loss of his father and felt a cold chill, he’d find a way to thank Hangman someday, he had saved his life after all.

———————————————————————————-

Tagging- @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @seitmai @sebsxphia @mynameismckenziemae @sailor-aviator

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Mystery of love

Previously / next chapter

a/n I was not gonna write anymore of this but some of you wanted to read more and fuck do I miss them myself. I will probably go and make a proper series masterlist so it would be easier to navigate through the chapters. Happy reading!🫧

summary: when two lost souls meet at their mutual friend’s party sparks fly, the question is if whatever they feel can actually bloom into something more? But that’s the mystery of love.

warning: toxic ex, arguments

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was one of your college friends' engagement party. As a good friend you were supposed to celebrate her but all you could think of was Noah. The boy with tattoos had managed to slot into your consciousness, taking up a daily spot there. You had stayed up for quite a couple of nights thinking about that almost kiss. About the fact that you had wanted it to happen. Had felt disappointed that it didn’t.

It scrambled with your brain. You had tried to avoid Noah as much as you could but he was relentless. Every day at six sharp he would be parked outside the bookstore waiting for you. “Go away Noah, there’s an Uber on its way to pick me up”, you grunted, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. “Yes, ma’am that would be me”, he saluted from his car, waving you over. “Don’t you have a job? Anything else to do?”, rolling your eyes you stepped closer. “Oh, I do, one of them is a part-time driver”, he smirked leaning over to open the car door for you.

You always gave in. Blaming his sad and tired eyes. Fearing that your no or a firmer push would send him tumbling down a hill. At least that’s what you told yourself. You weren’t ready to admit that you felt better yourself with him. It all felt better when Noah was around. And while you craved that safety blanket he provided without realizing it, your brain screamed at you for wanting to depend on his comfort.

“Sooo, how are things?”, Emmy pushed a drink over the bar your way, snapping you out of your train of thought. “Things?”, you asked, frowning. She gave you one of those looks before rolling her eyes, “Oh stop it, YN, you can’t fool me, girlie”. Her and Matt. Cause if she wasn’t there to see you and Noah, then Matt happily did a daily report for her. “Are you still going on a trip with Matt?”, you asked, changing the subject. It was a cheap move, but you didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it made it real. “You’re changing the subject”, Emmy chirped, “that means I’m right”, she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

You scowled at her, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Fine”, you lifted your hands in surrender, “We hung out a couple of times”. You hoped that would cut it but she just looked at you waiting. “And”, she motioned for you to continue. “And nothing, that’s it”, you shrugged. But it wasn’t nothing and deep down you knew it. It had been weird ever since the near kiss you two shared. You had made a big deal out of it. Not to mention that meeting your ex was also the cherry on top. Ex who no doubt had googled who Noah was from the relentless amount of messages he had sent. The times he had come over knocking.

“He’s a sweet guy. I would say pretty distant but he’s a good guy”, Emmy mussed, “We don’t know each other that well, I don’t want to impose but he’s been nothing but kind to me”, she swirled her drink looking at you. “Your judgment is much appreciated”, you tapped her hand in fake appreciation making her push you back slightly as she grunted. A light smile slipped onto your face. Falling immediately when your eyes caught a glimpse of the upper stage. As cold sweat chilled your body. “What’s wrong”, Emmy asked turning back. “Like a fucking rock at the bottom of my shoe”, you grumbled l, turning away in hopes that luck was on your side this time. “I’ll claw his face out”, your best friend pushed the bar stool back, ready to charge over but you clasped her upper arm, “Em, don’t you fucking get close to him, he’s unstable”.

More often than not Noah found himself thinking about the little things you two had done together. It played in a loop in his mind. At night when he couldn’t sleep he would go back, trying to ground himself in the moments he spent with you. Even now, he was supposed to listen to Jolly, which had proven to be harder lately. They were trying to put the cancellation dates in motion. But he had zoned out completely. Feeling the bone-rattling tiredness wash over him.

Dragging himself back to the little coffee not date you two had the other week. “Soo, this place make all the syrups at the house”, you had been referring to a family-owned coffee shop downtown for some time now. The destination was not comfortably reachable after work. Meaning that it would be more of a burden and time waste to go there in rush hours. So you rarely went there. But now Noah was glad that he had chosen to sit in traffic for an hour. The look on your face made it worth it.

You had practically jumped out of the car, reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers through Noah’s and while you didn’t seem to notice, Noah felt as if his whole body was on fire. It felt so right that he could sit down and cry. So he only gripped your hand tighter. “What do you want?”, you looked up at the menu, eyes scanning all the possibilities. But Noah was looking at you, “You pick”, he muttered. “No, Noah…”, you grunted, glancing at him, “Pick, I don’t know what you like, maybe you have allergies or some shit”. But he simply shrugged, before muttering a quick, “I trust you”.

You grunted, shaking your head before smiling at the lady waiting to take your order, “Hey, can I do one cold brew with wiped creme brûlée foam on top and one with your brown sugar almond glaze. Plant-based milk for both. That would be all thank you”, you smiled at her, turning to reach for your purse only to find Noah already paying. “Noah”, you grunted, “That’s…”, but he just chuckled pressing his lips to your temple.

“Okay, tell me what you think”, you two had found a nice table outside, the autumn sun warming your cheeks. Your legs were draped over his thighs, his fingers drawing shapes on your legs as you handed him one drink after the other.

“This one is nice”, Noah tapped at the cup in your hands, “Creme brûlée?”, you raised your eyebrows, taking a sip yourself. “it’s really good, I like them both though”, he hummed in approval. The funny thing was that he couldn’t give two shits for coffee but it seemed like whatever you liked he couldn’t help but enjoy as well. “Well now you know a nice spot for drinks”, you smiled at him, tilting your face towards the sun.

“I’ll know where to get you coffee from”, he corrected you, chuckling when you threw him a death glare he had already learned to love. “Absolutely not”, you protected. “Absolutely yes”, Noah nodded, biting his lip as he watched you. “Noah”, you grunted in warning but he simply shrugged, “I like it when you say my name”, you gasped, pushing his shoulder slightly, “Oh fuck off, you flirt”.

He was smiling to himself when his phone buzzed. Out of second nature, he turned his screen over. Only to tap his screen twice again.

Y/n 🤍: You’re busy?

Y/n 🤍: Sorry, hey

Y/n 🤍: Are you busy?

Noah: Everything’s okay?

He typed out, moving to sit up immediately. A frown creeping onto his face. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his guts.

Y/n 🤍: Can you ask Matt to check his phone.

“Matt”, Noah called out immediately, “Check your phone, dude”. He was up and walking towards the soundproofed booth. Fingers moving over the keyboard.

Noah: What’s going on Yn?

He watched the little three dots pending before disappearing. “Fuck”, Matt grunted, pulling his headset off. “What’s going on?”, Noah leaned against the door, watching his friend scrambling for his things. Matt halted for a moment as if calculating his next words. They never left a meeting unless something absolutely important happened. If Matt was up and ready to go that meant that Noah’s gut feeling was right.

“Yn ex is at the bar they are in”, nine words were enough to make Noah’s brain both shut down and restart again. He turned himself, reaching for his stuff before turning back, “I’m going with you”. “Noah”, Matt shook his head in disapproval. “I’ve met the dick already, let’s go”, Noah motioned for Matt to go to the doors. “Do you maybe want to enlighten us too?”, Jolly called out, arms crossed over his chest. “Man this is some serious shit”, Matt shook his head. This all could get real messy, Noah was more than aware of it. “We’ll talk about it, give me time”, Noah promised before, walking out the studio door.

“I’m not going anywhere with you”, you pulled at Dan’s hand firmly. Trying to get away from him after having to take the heated conversation outside. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene. “Stop fucking fighting”, he gripped tightly, pulling your arm further up, making you wince in pain. “Let go you asshole”, Emmy huffed, throwing her heel at him. Hitting him square in his head. You would have laughed honestly if it wasn’t the fact that his grip only got firmer.

“Back off bitch”, he snarled at Emmy, stepping forward to spook her. “Em”, a voice sounded behind you, you watched as Emmy nearly sagged in relief against the damp brick wall, “Matty”, she called out and even your body washed over with relief. One that was short-lived as Dan’s hand wrapped around your middle pushing you forward, “Come here”, he mused against your ear making your body shiver in disgust.

“Man let her go or I won’t be responsible for my next move”, you felt like crying in that moment when realization finally hit you. Matt didn’t come alone. “Noah…”, you whispered, turning your head to see his angry face. You weren’t sure if you felt happy or embarrassed then. You didn’t want him to see this. Didn’t want him to know about your past poor choices.

“We got back together man, so mind your business”, Dan cupped the side of your face, pressing his lips to your cheek. Your palm found his face then pushed him further back, as you grunted, “We did not”. “Let go or I will break your hand”, Noah stepped closer, he was way taller than Dan. Quite frankly all Dan had was a fancy suit and sparkly watch to hide behind. “Security is on its way Daniel”, Matt called out, Emmy standing behind his back, one of his hands making sure she stayed exactly there, “Your choice man. Walk away or ride in the back of a police car”.

Dan watched you all for a moment. And if not for the back doors creaking you knew that he wouldn’t have let go. “Fuck you”, he spat towards Matt, pushing you forward as he flipped you all off. “Not my first time with you, dick”, Matt threw back at him. Noah’s arms reached for you instantly but you caught his wrist, keeping his body away from yours. “I want to get out of here”, you muttered. “That’s what we will do”, Noah promised, trying to look you over. “I’ve got her”, Emmy muttered, wrapping her arm around your shoulders, and throwing Noah an apologetic look. He wanted to be the one to comfort you but he knew that there was a limit to how far you were willing to let him in and Noah had a feeling that two run-ins with your ex had maxed it out.

He watched you through the rearview mirror the whole way back to their house. Watch that cold mask of indifference slowly replace the genuine fear he had seen moments ago. So he wasn’t all that surprised when you had thrown Emmy a smile after stepping out of the car. “Come on, we’re sharing a room”, Emmy tugged at your hand but you instantly pulled back. “I’m going home, Em’s, you all go inside”, you muttered, squeezing your friend's hand. “Yn, they don’t mind. Tell her Matt”, she turned her pleading eyes on her boyfriend. “I said it more than once, YN, our place is your place”, Matt hummed in approval. Making Noah frown slightly. He had a feeling that Matt knew more. Had been involved in all of this somehow. The question was how deep it ran. “I appreciate it but I rather go home”, you smiled politely. “I’ll drive you back”, Noah cut in, “I was gonna pop into the city anyway”.

You wanted to protest but Emmy cut you off, “At least drive with Noah, I would be much calmer knowing that he dropped you off”, so you simply nodded. Not having enough energy to fight anyone on anything. “You don’t have plans in the city do you”, you asked glancing out of the window once Noah had started his car. “I don’t”, he admitted. You simply nodded at his answer, wrapping your arms around yourself.

And it had been fine. You had managed to keep it wrapped up till he offered to walk you up the stairs. Waiting for you to unlock your door as he leaned against the side wall. Your hand halted as you pushed the key through. It was one look at him. The look of concern in his eyes. It was the silence he left between you too. Not pushing to fill it in. Leaving it there as an option for you. A chance to speak up if you wanted to.

Your shoulders quivered as you clasped your hand over your mouth, trying to silence the sob that slipped past your lips. Noah pushed back from the wall instantly. Offering his hand but not pushing his embrace upon you. Giving you a chance to choose this. Choose him.

You turned to him. Arms reaching for his neck as you pushed your body against his. Feeling a tremble run through your chest. “I’m here”, Noah muttered, “Let it out”. His hands moved up and down your back, as he soothed you. “I’m so scared”, you crocked out, “He…”, you shook your head. Eyes burning from tears. “He’s a dead man walking”, Noah cupped your face, “He will not get to you, I won’t let him”, he nodded and you followed his action. “Stay”, you pleaded, holding onto his upper arms as you pressed your face against his chest. “I wasn’t going anywhere, love, might have napped outside your door if you hadn’t invited me in”, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, “Let’s get you inside. Marsh is probably demanding to be fed anyway”, taking the keys out of your hands Noah, unlocked them, pulling the door open before ushering you inside.

•••••••••••••

@broken0mens @supersquirrel1996

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Monopoly is capitalism's gerrymander

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

You don't have to accept the arguments of capitalism's defenders to take those arguments seriously. When Adam Smith railed against rentiers and elevated the profit motive to a means of converting the intrinsic selfishness of the wealthy into an engine of production, he had a point:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

Smith – like Marx and Engels in Chapter One of The Communist Manifesto – saw competition as a catalyst that could convert selfishness to the public good: a rich person who craves more riches still will treat their customers, suppliers and workers well, not out of the goodness of their heart, but out of fear of their defection to a rival:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/19/make-them-afraid/#fear-is-their-mind-killer

This starting point is imperfect, but it's not wrong. The pre-enshittified internet was run by the same people who later came to enshittify it. They didn't have a change of heart that caused them to wreck the thing they'd worked so hard to build: rather, as they became isolated from the consequences of their enshittificatory impulses, it was easier to yield to them.

Once Google captured its market, its regulators and its workforce, it no longer had to worry about being a good search-engine – it could sacrifice quality for profits, without consequence:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

It could focus on shifting value from its suppliers, its customers and its users to its shareholders:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/15/they-trust-me-dumb-fucks/#ai-search

The thing is, all of this is well understood and predicted by traditional capitalist orthodoxy. It was only after a gnostic cult of conspiratorialists hijacked the practice of antitrust law that capitalists started to view monopolies as compatible with capitalism:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/20/we-should-not-endure-a-king/

The argument goes like this: companies that attain monopolies might be cheating, but because markets are actually pretty excellent arbiters of quality, it's far more likely that if we discover that everyone is buying the same product from the same store, that this is the best store, selling the best products. How perverse would it be to shut down the very best stores and halt the sale of the very best products merely to satisfy some doctrinal reflex against big business!

To understand the problem with this argument, we should consider another doctrinal reflex: conservatives' insistence that governments just can't do anything well or efficiently. There's a low-information version of this that goes, "Governments are where stupid people who can't get private sector jobs go. They're lazy and entitled." (There's a racial dimension to this, since the federal government has historically led the private sector in hiring and promoting Black workers and workers of color more broadly.)

But beyond that racially tinged caricature, there's a more rigorous version of the argument: government officials are unlikely to face consequences for failure. Appointees and government employees – especially in the unionized federal workforce – are insulated from such consequences by overlapping layers of labor protection and deflection of blame.

Elected officials can in theory be fired in the next election, but if they keep their cheating or incompetence below a certain threshold, most of us won't punish them at the polls. Elected officials can further improve their odds of re-election by cheating some of us and sharing the loot with others, through handouts and programs. Elections themselves have a strong incumbency bias, meaning that once a cheater gets elected, they will likely get re-elected, even if their cheating becomes well-known:

https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/congress/gold-bars-featured-bob-menendez-bribery-case-linked-2013-robbery-recor-rcna128006

What's more, electoral redistricting opens the doors to gerrymandering – designing districts to create safe seats where one party always wins. That way, the real election consists of the official choosing the voters, not the voters choosing the official:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/REDMAP

Inter-party elections – primaries and other nomination processes – have fundamental weaknesses that mean they're no substitute for well-run, democratic elections:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/30/weak-institutions/

Contrast this with the theory of competitive markets. For capitalism's "moral philosophers," the physics by which greedy desires led to altruistic outcomes was to be found in the swift retribution of markets. A capitalist, exposed to the possibility of worker and customers defecting to their rival, knows that their greed is best served by playing fair.

But just as importantly, capitalists who don't internalize this lesson are put out of business and superceded by better capitalists. The market's invisible hand can pat you on the head – but it can also choke you to death.

This is where monopoly comes in. Even if you accept the consumer welfare theory that says that monopolies are most often the result of excellence, we should still break up monopolies. Even if someone secures an advantage by being great, that greatness will soon regress to the mean. But if the monopolist can extinguish the possibility of competition, they can maintain their power even after they cease deserving it.

In other words, the monopolist is like a politician who wins power – whether through greatness or by deceit – and then gerrymanders their district so that they can do anything and gain re-election. Even the noblest politician, shorn of accountability, will be hard pressed to avoid yielding to temptation.

Capitalism's theory proceeds from the idea that we are driven by our self-interest, and that competition turns self-interest into communal sentiment. Take away the competition, and all that's left is the self-interest.

I think this is broadly true, even though it's not the main reason I oppose monopolies (I oppose monopolies because they corrupt our democracy and pauperize workers). But even if capitalism's ability to turn greed into public benefit isn't the principle that's uppermost in my mind, it's what capitalists claim to believe – and treasure.

I think that most of the right's defense of monopolies stems from cynical, bad-faith rationalizations – but there are people who've absorbed these rationalizations and find them superficially plausible. It's worth developing these critiques, for their sake.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/18/market-discipline/#too-big-to-care

[rainbowsky]

I can't help it, I have to critique this.

Disclaimer: I'm about to rip this logo to shreds. If that's is going to offend you, don't read on. Especially don't read on and then get pissed off at me, because you will only have yourself to blame. 😅

I also want to start off by saying that this has absolutely nothing to do with who designed it (or didn't design it), or who it was designed for. I love GG and DD, but ultimately my reaction to this logo design has absolutely nothing to do with either of them.

I have to say it couldn't be more disappointed with this logo. I feel that it fails on every level. Here are a few of the reasons why:

It is devoid of any personality. I guess I've been spoiled by the cool panther logo that we have known and loved, but I would have preferred to see something with more street style to it. Something with more individuality - something connected to Yibo and his aesthetic. This doesn't scream 'Yibo' to me. It just looks very conservative, like something designed for a brand (which it was, I guess). That's not to say the illustration isn't well done, because it is, and it does do a decent job of bringing in some automobile elements into the snakehead design (the geometric scales, the flames under the eye), but no matter how well illustrated something is, it's not going to make a good logo just because it's pretty. Logo design is actually a complex process that requires a lot of skill and experience, and a solid background in communications and design. Being able to draw well is only a very small part of that skillset. In fact, there are some outstanding communication designers who can't draw very well at all.

It fails as a logo design. The number one thing any logo needs to do is communicate. This doesn't communicate anything at all. It doesn't even immediately read as a snake. In fact there's really very little snake-ish about it, and all of the coolest elements of a snake - its long winding body, its forked tongue, its glassy eyes - none of those features are incorporated here. It also doesn't read as an 85, it could be an 89. Terrible - a truly inexcusable error. For a racing logo, there's really nothing speedy or fast being communicated here at all. The snake looks like it's about to fall asleep. Even the kinetic energy that could have been communicated through the position of the snake's tail is wrong. The tail is pointing in the opposite direction it should be, and the snake does not look like it's moving forward, it looks like it's draped over the logo, exhausted, and like the entire snake is maybe 5" long.

The designer doesn't seem to have respected the spirit of the original design. They should have used that original design as a starting point and built upon it rather than go in their own direction and then paste what they did on top of the existing logo. As a result the overall look is disjointed and unharmonious. It just doesn't crackle with the exciting energy that comes from a well-designed, well-balanced, aesthetically strong logo design.

I really can't stand it. Yes, the snake itself is beautifully illustrated, and the illustrator is talented, but they have failed as a logo designer in this particular case.

I love the idea of the snake being incorporated into a racing logo, but everything that makes a snake cool, everything that makes a snake well aligned with a racing brand, everything that conveys speed and energy is just completely lacking here.

Just to give you an example of some more dynamic snake logos, here are a few just from Google image search (and I'll put the Evisu one here again so you can compare). I'm not saying that I love these designs, but they are much more energetic and dynamic than this logo:

And I find this one pretty inspiring simply because it gives me ideas about creating a snake with a tire tread underbelly, which would be so cool.

And if you look at the classic Ford Shelby logo, compare that with the Evisu one you can see how much more dynamic and unique and distinctive and exciting the snake is in this one, even though its position is more static and it's not as smoothly rendered. It has style.

There's a part of me that feels a little bit bad for ripping into Yibo's new logo, but I'm angry on his behalf, because I feel like he deserves a lot better than this.

And all the designer would have needed to do to make this a more exciting logo and one that communicates what it needs to communicate is to make the snake head a little bit smaller so it's not blocking the number 5, give it a more dynamic pose where its mouth is open and its fangs are showing and its tongue is sticking out, and expand its body so that its body is visible behind - or even winding around - the numbers, and where you can see the curls of its body, and its tail is facing in the correct direction to make the snake look like it's moving forward.

Edit: here's what I mean:

I still don't feel that the illustration style is compatible with the original logo design, but I could overlook it if it was actually making any effort at all at communicating a racing theme.

Just my two cents. It's possible I will warm up to it more when I see it on the car. Placement and context can make a big difference.

I think it's cool that Yibo wants to use that green bamboo snake for a logo, I just wish it had been better designed.

Edit: more on this here.

[apeachty]

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀marriage struggles

⠀⠀⠀yeonjun x reader x kai | yeonkai x reader

genre : fluff, tiny bit of angst & slice of life

warnings : yeah, well, it's throuple/poly, i admit. yeonjun is jumping to conclusions and trying to distance himself sometimes (that time too), but it's barely angst.

wc : 0.9k.

notes : i once again have nothing to say except that i blame @biteyoubiteme for always encouraging me to write more of those silly little fics. ily (and i hope it's not too ooc when it comes to yeonjun)

and coming up with titles sucks. i hope it's at least close to what's happening in the fic...

the evening was quiet—just a regular dinner in the apartment you shared with kai and yeonjun. well, maybe too quiet. kai was absorbed in his phone, scrolling through social media as usual, while yeonjun sat lost in thought, staring at his plate. you didn’t mind kai’s silence—he could spend hours on his phone without a care—but yeonjun’s behavior was a little unsettling. he seemed more focused on pushing a cherry tomato around with his fork than actually eating.

you debated whether to ask him what was wrong. on one hand, he had promised to share anything that concerned him with you and kai, and he’d been making an effort to do so. but on the other hand, everyone has things they’d rather keep to themselves, and the three of you had always respected that boundary.

you shook your head, deciding to trust him. he’d talk about it if he wanted to.

“you two should get married.”

your neck almost snapped with how fast you looked up at him, while kai choked on his chicken, coughing violently. neither of you could find words appropriate enough to say without breaking your self-imposed “no cursing this month” agreement, but judging by yeonjun’s expression, he got the hint anyway.

“we can’t all get married, so if either of us marries you, it should be kai,” he said with a shrug, his attention back on his plate as he stabbed the poor cherry tomato with his fork.

silence fell over the room, heavier than before. you could handle yeonjun being like this sometimes. after all, he had insisted that you share your first kiss with kai because kai hadn’t been kissed either, and at the time, it had made sense. kai took your virginity—the reason was the same. but yeonjun also had a bad habit of drawing unnecessary lines between himself and you two, even when there was no reason for it.

it didn’t happen often, and he thought he was subtle about it. but you and kai always noticed. whenever he acted like that, you made it a point to include him, sometimes dragging him along if necessary. it had been more frequent when you first started dating, but he hadn’t done it in almost a year—until now. and this time, it felt like he spent all these months to come up with the biggest attempt yet to separate himself.

you cleared your throat, shifting your focus back to your plate. “no,” you said softly but firmly. “i’m not marrying either of you, because it would exclude the other.”

yeonjun placed his fork down and looked at you. “we’d still live like we do now. it wouldn’t change anything.”

you shrugged. “then i’m marrying you,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the turmoil in your chest. “what’s the difference? it wouldn’t change anything, right?”

kai, catching on to what you were doing, nodded. “right. it makes sense.” he glanced at you and then at yeonjun, shrugging. “might as well decide with a coin flip.”

yeonjun’s eyes widened as he glanced between the two of you, disbelief written all over his face. “are you two serious? a coin?!”

“or rock-paper-scissors,” you said, ticking options off on your fingers. “or rolling a dice. i could even google a fortune wheel and we can decide right now.” you grabbed your phone, unlocking it to show you weren’t bluffing, mumbling under your breath as you typed the search.

yeonjun let out a long, frustrated sigh—the “no cursing” rule was clearly testing his limits—and snatched your phone, placing it screen-down on the far side of the table. “you’re being ridiculous.”

you narrowed your eyes. "first of all, it’s 'you're being ridiculous, baby'," you corrected, noting how his lips twitched despite himself. kai caught the small shift too, and you both knew your silly comment had helped relax him just a bit. “secondly, you’re the one being ridiculous. marriage isn’t even that important.”

yeonjun scoffed, his tension returning. “oh, it’s not? then why is your 'inspo' pinterest board full of wedding photos, white dresses, floral decorations, and—”

he didn’t get to finish because kai burst out laughing with one of his alien-like laughs. meanwhile, you buried your face in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. suddenly, everything made sense. yeonjun had seen your pins and jumped to conclusions, but explaining the truth felt unbearable.

“look—” you started, scrambling for the right words. thank god, you had kai who would always come to your rescue, without you even having to ask.

“her sims legacy heir is getting married, and she wanted to plan the perfect wedding,” kai explained between fits of laughter.

you groaned again, wishing the ground would swallow you whole. “this was such a bad idea,” you muttered, referring to the cursed no-swearing rule.

yeonjun nodded slowly, clearly processing the explanation. “so… you’ve been obsessing over a pixel wedding?”

"yep," kai nodded. "she has."

“lo-o-ok,” yeonjun began after a beat of silence, his frown melting into the mischievous smirk you dreaded. it never meant anything good when he was starting to resemble that fox from 'zootopia'.

“oh god,” you whispered, already bracing for disaster as he propped his chin in his hand, giving you his “spill the tea, baby” look.

“do you have a polyamory mod? or like… wicked whims?” his smirk widened as his voice dropped conspiratorially.

you stared at him, then turned to kai with an apologetic look, grabbing a cushion from a nearby chair. “sorry, kai. i’m breaking the no-cursing rule.”

yeonjun ducked just in time, arms covering his head as he burst into laughter, already knowing what was coming.

“choi yeonjun, what the f—”

[winmance]

Swipe Right for Family Discount!

Damen looks at himself in his rearview mirror one last time, repositioning his hair correctly and checking his teeth to make sure no salad has gotten stuck into it. He’s not usually this stressed before going on a date, but he’s also not usually that interested. He hasn’t told Nikandros yet, refusing to see the disapproval on his friend’s face, but he thinks this may be it for him. He’s been talking to Laurent for less than a week and yet, he already can’t think of anything else. Every second of his day is spent thinking about him and even when he’s sleeping, his brain finds a way to bring Laurent in his dreams. Which is crazy, considering that today will be the first time meeting him.

Laurent is the one who chose the restaurant, and his choice surprised Damen, but he didn’t think much about it. Looking back, he probably should have questioned Laurent about choosing a family place for their dinner, but you don’t know what you don’t ask.

It doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to spot Laurent in the restaurant. It feels like a movie when the music starts to play and everything goes in slow motion. His hair is so blond that the light seems to reflect on it. His blue eyes are on Damen in an instant, deep and cold. He’s not wearing expensive clothes but he’s in all black, with not an inch of skin showing. He’s the most beautiful human being Damen has ever seen and he hopes Laurent is going to like him because there’s no way Damen will be able to live knowing that such beauty walks on Earth.

The slow motion stops the moment someone steps into Laurent’s personal space.

At first Damen frowns, until he realizes it’s a kid and then he thinks the boy must be lost but then - then Laurent’s eyes leave him and focus on the boy and he doesn’t seem to care that the boy is so close to him, that their feet are touching.

That’s when Damen realizes something is wrong.

“Hello Damen,” Laurent says.

“Hello Damen,” the boy next to him repeats.

“Hey, I… uh… You are…”

“This is Nicaise. My babysitter was sick. It says on your profile that you love kids.”

“I’m a kid,” the kid says.

“I do,” Damen says. “Nice to meet you. Both of you.”

He loves kids, yes, but on his first date? He’s not sure. Laurent’s profile didn’t mention a kid. Let alone a teenager. He’s not the best at math but even if Laurent had the kid at sixteen, it still would be impossible for him to be this big.

A normal man should have run. In fact, Damen is pretty sure that if he could google “What does it mean if your crush brings their kid that they didn’t tell you about to your first date?” he would find out that this is one of the biggest red flags ever.

But Damen is not a normal man and so he leads the way to their table and he pulls out the chair for both of them. Nicaise giggles while Laurent barely smiles. Damen tries to blame it on stress, but they’re barely two minutes into their date and Laurent is already holding his head, looking extremely bored, which is strange because they talked so much by text that Damen thought the conversation would go smoothly.

“I watched the show you talked about,” Damen says. His throat feels tight with how tense the situation is. “Into the fire? The documentary about the missing girl.”

“You did?”

Laurent seems surprised and for a few seconds, he even lifts his head to look at Damen.

“Yes. It was really good.”

“I thought you didn’t like true crime documentaries.”

“Yes but you said you liked it, so I thought I should watch it too.”

“Can I watch it?” Nicaise asks.

“Absolutely not. Do you hear me? It’s a no.”

“You may be a bit too young for that,” Damen says, and then he realizes he has no idea how young Nicaise is. He’s pretty, like Laurent, with big blue eyes and curly dark hair. He’s small, though, and slime. Damen has never been like that. He went straight from toddler to Viking, as his father used to say. At six, they were already dressing him with twelve years old clothes.

“Did you watch it illegally?” This time, the question is directed to Laurent. “So I can’t watch my favorite anime because it may give us viruses, but you can? You know that you can go to jail for that? And let me break it to you: orange is not your color.”

Damen never spoke like that to his parents and if he did, he wouldn’t be here to tell anyone about it. He should feel offended but he can’t, not when Nicaise’s words make him want to laugh.

“It’s on Netflix. He probably watches it here,” Damen says, trying to help.

“We don’t have Netflix anymore. The neighbor used to allow us to use his account but with their fucking new setting it doesn’t work anymore. Thanks fuck we can still use their WiFi!”

“Langage Nicaise,” Laurent says. “I watched it with Jord last weekend. Nothing illegal here.”

Damen has to force himself not to react. It would be disproportionate to make a fuss about a guy named Jord, who could very much be Laurent’s grandpa. In fact, he’s probably his grandpa. If Laurent forgot to tell him about his kid, he may have forgotten to tell him about his grandpa with whom he likes to watch true crime.

“Do you have Netflix, Damen?” Nicaise aks.

“I do, yes.”

“And Amazon Prime?”

“Yes.”

“What about Disney+? HBO?”

“Uh, yes. I think I got all of them? There was a deal when I bought my TV.”

Nicaise nods, as if taking notes, before focusing back on the menu in front of him. For some reason, Damen feels like he just gained some points and he smiles before turning back to Laurent, who’s looking at him with a frown on his face. He seems tense and Damen would like to blame it on the fact that it’s their first date, but he has a feeling it’s not it. There’s a hole in Laurent’s sleeves and he keeps playing nervously with it. It’s really cute.

“I read the book you mentioned,” Laurent mumbles. “I didn’t have anything to do.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was adequate.”

The book is one of Damen’s favorites. He read it when he was twelve and the loss of his mom was starting to creep into him. It’s a beautiful book about grief and he’s aware that only someone who had lost someone they deeply loved can appreciate it.

“You cried while reading it,” Nicaise says, his eyes still down on the menu.

“I did not.”

“Yes, you cried like a big baby and then you were like, all emotional and telling me that you loved me. It was disgusting. Damen, don’t recommend that kind of book again.”

“Notes taken. What should I recommend then? What kind of books do you think are appropriate for Laurent?”

“Erotics books.”

Damen bursts into laughter at the same moment Laurent shoves Nicaise away, his face turning a dark shade of red.

“What? It’s true! That would do you some good!”

“Focus back on your menu. You are not a part of this conversation.”

“We should order, actually,” Damen says, trying to distract Laurent again. “What does Nicaise eat?”

“You can ask me directly, you know,” Nicaise says.

“Oh yes, sorry. What do you want to eat?”

“I don’t talk to strangers.”

Laurent, having already forgotten the kid, can’t help but smirk and Damen is a weak man, so he does the same. He has a weird feeling in his stomach, something warm and familiar. He has to restrain himself from reaching out to hold Laurent’s hand.

“He’ll have a burger with extra bacon and a diet Coke.”

“Good choice,” Damen notes. “And you?”

“Cesar salad.”

Damen has never once ordered a salad while at the restaurant and he’s not surprised to see it’s the cheapest meal here. It does look good, sure. If you eat it while waiting for your burgers. Still, he’s smart enough to understand why Laurent chose it, and even smarter not to comment on it.

“I’ll take the burger too. They have onion rings and chicken wings that seem absolutely amazing so I think I’ll start with them.”

“You’re having all of that before your burger?” Laurent asks.

“Yeah, that may be a bit excessive… Would you be ok eating them with me?”

Laurent’s stomach is quicker to answer than he is, the noise reaching their ears before Damen’s sentence is even over. This time, however, Nicaise doesn’t laugh when he looks at his father and instead, a complex expression booms on his face.

“If you don’t mind…”

“Nah, I won’t be able to eat it all anyway.”

Damen quickly orders for them and they finally fall into an easy conversation after that. Nicaise helps a lot, throwing shades at his dad every time he can, and at some point, Damen thinks he insulted him but he’s not sure that he got it quite right. He hadn’t realized just how old he was until that moment, but apparently young people these days seem to have a whole new language.

“You should download TikTok,” Nicaise tells him. “I’ll send you videos to help you get some culture.”

“You’ll not,” Laurent says.

“Why?”

“It’s inappropriate.”

“Ugh, find. Damen, can I have your phone please?”

“Nicaise, that’s not-”

Damen unlocks his phone and gives it to him. Laurent looks at him as if he has grown a second head and it occurs to Damen that yes, giving your phone to a fourteen-year-old (Nicaise had told him he was eighteen to try and get a beer, to which Laurent had replied while pointing his real age) was quite dangerous. But he doesn’t care.

“Here. I added Laurent’s TikTok. He doesn’t post anything of course, but he’s always sending me those really not funny videos that I’m sure you’ll love.”

When they were texting, Laurent had told him he was not on social media. No Instagram, no Facebook and certainly no TikTok.

“Can I get a follow-back?”

“I… Yes.”

After sending a deadly stare at Nicaise, Laurent takes out his phone. The screen is broken and the phone seems like an old version of the one Damen has, but Laurent is still able to navigate through it, and like promised, he adds him on TikTok.

They get distracted again when the food finally arrives and after some convincing, Laurent helps Damen in eating all the things he ordered. It’s a nice family scene, Damen realizes. It looks like they’re just two regular dads eating with their teenage son who can’t keep his eyes off his phone. It’s domestic, the way they easily fall into silence without it being awkward. From time to time, Laurent will look at him with that weird expression on his face, but then he stays quiet or tells Nicaise to focus on his food. Each time, Damen smiles at him. Now that Laurent is more relaxed, he’s exactly like in his texts: sarcastic in a funny way, shy but not too much, interesting, and passionate when Damen finds the right subject. He loves true crime but also The Office. He lived in France for a while but has never been in another country outside of that. He works in a library, something he hadn’t told Damen before but that makes so much sense. He doesn’t talk about his family but when Damen talks about Kastor, both Laurent and Nicaise agree that he’s an asshole, which makes Damen laugh. They’re almost done eating when Damen realizes that he’s in deep trouble because there’s no way this was a one-time thing.

“So Damen,” Nicaise says once he finishes his burger. He cleans his mouth with the back of his sleeve, which earns him another complaint from Laurent. Unlike his dad, his clothes seem new. “What are your intentions towards Laurent?”

Laurent chokes on his water but Damen keeps it cool. He was expecting this question, for some odd reasons.

“They’re nothing but pure. Anything he wants, I’ll give him.”

There’s that deep blush on Laurent’s face again but he doesn’t say anything. They finish eating in silence, but it’s a comfortable one and when Damen’s fingers brush against Laurent's own, he doesn’t reach out but doesn’t push his hand away either.

Once it’s time to pay, Damen doesn’t let Laurent take his car out and immediately pays for the whole meal.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I did say in my bio that I was old school, didn’t I?”

They agree on a walk along the docks after. The air is fresh but not cold, just enough to make Damen sleepy. Next to him, Laurent shivers, which is no surprise because despite not showing any skin, his clothes are way too thin for the season. So of course, Damen takes his jacket off and throws it on his shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I can’t imagine what Nicaise would do to me if I let you get a cold.”

Laurent smiles fondly.

“He’s a bit protective, sometimes. But he’s a good kid.”

“He is, yes,” Damen agrees. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?”

“Bring the kid to a date so that you’ll get dinner for free. I’m not complaining, just so we’re clear. I had a really good night.”

Nicaise is in front of them, running after some poor birds to make them fly. Damen understood pretty fast during their date that he was just part of a scheme to get free food and while it did hurt his ego a bit at first, he can’t complain. Not when the night is so nice and Laurent is so close to him.

“I only did it once or twice,” Laurent admits after a while. “It’s not… Money gets tight sometimes and it’s fun. We’re not hurting anyone. The two times we did it, the men paid for the meal but didn’t stay with us. They kept apologizing but couldn’t stand to even try and have a conversation with us. It was laughable, I swear.”

“So you never mentioned Nicaise to any of them before the date?”

“No, but to be fair, you’re… I didn’t talk a lot with them, even through texts. We just chatted a bit and then they wanted to meet me right away. So it was easier to pretend like the question didn’t come up.”

“And with me?”

“I didn’t expect us to talk this much.”

There’s a strange feeling of pride booming inside of Damen’s chest and he’s smiling like a teenager, but it feels right to do so.

“You were not really looking for a boyfriend then?”

“No,” Laurent says. “I’m… I was not.”

“And now?”

Laurent stays silent for a while but his cheeks are red and he’s playing nervously with his hands. Still, when he turns towards him, his face is neutral.

“It was a great night.”

“It was,” Damen agrees.

They stopped walking some time ago. They’re standing in front of each other now, Nicaise’s presence not far away but not close enough to disrupt them. Damen won’t kiss Laurent, not now, but the way they’re looking at each other is better than any kiss he ever had.

“So, tomorrow at the same time?”

“I will have to bring Nicaise.”

And this time, he does seem sorry about it.

“Ah. See, it’s a bit awkward but it’s actually Nicaise I wanted to see… He’s really funny. But you’re free to tag along, of course.”

This time when Laurent laughs, he does so with all his chest and it’s the prettiest sound Damen’s ever heard. Well, almost, because then Nicaise, who has apparently been listening to the conversation, laughs too and the sound they make is the one Damen will be playing in his head on his deathbed.

“I want to eat sushi tomorrow,” Nicaise says. “Also, can we go and watch a movie before? There’s a new horror movie -”

“No horror movie for you.”

“What? You’re the one who gets scared! Not me! I’m sure Damen can hold you close so you don’t piss your pants.”

“Yes,” Damen says, “I’ll hold you close. Both of you.”

Damen has never been very lucky with love. He had a lot of girlfriends, including Jokaste, but none of them he felt deeply connected with. He loved them, to some extent, and they probably loved him back, but he always felt like he was searching for something else. Like his heart was made for more, and yet it always refused entry to any of the girls he dated. Like he had been made to love, fully, without any restraints, but without ever being able to do so. He remembers lying in bed with Jokaste and feeling like a fraud for not loving her more. He had thought that maybe something in him was broken. That his mother’s death, his father’s cold love, and Kastor’s hate had broken something in him, making him both craving and refusing love.

The moon is up in the sky. The stars are shining. Nicaise is taking a selfie in front of the water. Laurent’s hand is in his. And he thinks, for the first time, that finally his heart feels complete and opens.

Nikandros is going to give him so much shit for this.

[nova2kss]

Lip gloss

pairing: dominican!connie springer x black fem!reader

cumtent warning : Constance using his cum as you're lip gloss, blowjob, spit play,dirty talk, cursing, connie moaning like a lil bitch lmfaoao, some spanish (blame google translate if sum wrong), pet names, usage of daddy once, lmk if i miss anything

novas notes: MINORS DNI, this is 100% inspired by @cottonconnielvr , as always, its not proofread, support this blog , and support black writers.

"A-aughh shit" connie moaned out.

one of his tatted hands wrapped around you're throat, the other around the base of cock sloppily pulling his throbbing tip from the back of you're sore throat.

you licked under his tip looking him dead in his eyes

you watched as his face contorted into pure pleasure, as you went down as far as you can, gagging from all the saliva used to lubricate his dick, whatever you couldn't fit down your throat was being stroked by his hand.

his mouth went agape when you hummed against him, you felt his hand tighten around you're butterfly locs that he now had in a tight fist thrusting into your mouth.

you fucked him back with you're mouth watching him whine out

you released him with a pop before spitting all over his dick from tip to base.

" mhmm, i love t-thaa.. shit mamiii" he moanded with his head thrown back, he released your hair to grab the fabric behind him, desperately craving his release.

you looked at him while slowly running you're mouth down to his balls, you licked them before sucking on them which made him shiver

"yea..you like that" you responded to his admiring the fact that you had somone that was displayed as a hard ass gangster that most people feared whimpering for you right now.

he moaned thrusting into your mouth once again, he was getting louder by the second

"Esta v-viniendo"

" take it daddy....use my throat"

he grabbed the back of your head pushing you down his length making your nose touch his pelvis

"mumphh....auh"

" oh shit...oh shittt..Ohhh ahhh"

he pulled you up stroking his shaft

his eyes were closed as he muttered meaningless pleas, his hot spurts of cum landing straight onto your thick lips before spreading his semen all on your lips.

he laughed looking at you which made you laugh closed mouth since you didn't want it to fall off

" you look so pretty with your new lip gloss"