#been a while since i needed to use some of those

[finelinefae]

reaching out [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: just one moment out of very many of tennis!h pining over y/n before they teamed up.

word count: 5.5k

contains: enemies to lovers, pining h, angst, abusive parents, mentions of physical abuse, tennis rivals, fluff

a/n: very first tennis!h blurb omggg - i missed my babies so much!! For those who don't know, this is a blurb for my tennis!h series which you can read here !!

. . .

Harry stretched his legs, working his calf muscles, as people settled into their seats in the stands. Today was a big day, one that had drawn a large crowd, but he paid them no mind. Performing in front of a big audience never shook Harry’s confidence. When it came to tennis, his focus was entirely on the game.

It was the county cup semi-final. Harry had competed in the same event last year, finishing in second place behind Henry Waver, who took home the gold before heading to rehab a month later for using performance-enhancing drugs. Harry had come a long way since then, and he was determined to make it to the final and claim first place.

Some might have thought Harry no longer needed to compete in these smaller events, given his path toward qualifying for the Olympics, but he couldn’t stay away. Maybe it was the rush of winning, or perhaps the quiet focus that settled over him when the game began—just him, his opponent, and the swift rhythm of the ball being hit back and forth between them.

He walked over to his bench, some people cheering as he walked onto the court. He was wearing all white, a towel around his shoulders and his racket bag hanging from his shoulder. He reached for his water bottle, pouring it into his mouth. 

His eyes scanned the growing crowd, but there was no sign of his parents—not that he had expected anything different. He caught a glimpse of Mitch chatting with a few girls from their year group on the stairs, but Harry's focus shifted immediately to the center of the stands, only to find it empty.

A frown tugged at his lips, the first sign of emotion since this morning. He glanced around, searching for the one person his heart longed to see, but before he could spot her, his coach clapped him on the back.

"Remember what we worked on yesterday—don’t overstep the baseline and make sure to follow through," his coach muttered, his tone more routine than encouraging.

Harry barely registered the words. He shrugged off his coach’s hand, distracted. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he mumbled, his mind still preoccupied with trying to figure out why she hadn’t shown up yet.

The opposing crowd erupted into cheers as Lionel Boyce stepped onto the court, raising a hand to acknowledge their applause. Harry barely spared him a glance. He had crossed paths with Lionel plenty of times in his tennis journey and knew the truth behind the polished exterior—Lionel was an arrogant opportunist, desperate for sponsorship deals.

Harry took a swig of water, his grip tightening on the bottle as he set it down and reached for his racket. The game was drawing closer, but the empty seat in the center of the stands—the one he had been watching all afternoon—remained vacant. His chest tightened at the thought of someone else filling it. He wasn’t sure how he’d play with a stranger sitting there instead of the person he was hoping for.

The umpire climbed into his seat, and the announcement for the game’s start echoed across the court. Harry felt a firm pat on the back from his coach as he stepped forward.

“Go show him what you’re made of,” his coach said with a nod.

The crowd erupted as Harry walked onto the court. Most of the cheers came from the Crestwood supporters, and while it wasn’t the loudest reception, it was enough to steady his nerves.

Across the court, Lionel sauntered into position, basking in the applause. Harry couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling as Lionel flashed his best grin to the crowd. He didn’t miss the way a group of girls in the front row seemed to swoon, whispering excitedly among themselves.

The umpire adjusted the microphone and cleared his throat, his voice carrying over the murmuring crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, play shall begin. First set—Harry Styles to serve."

Harry stepped into position at the baseline, gripping his racket tightly. As always, he raised it and pointed toward the center of the crowd—a ritual that steadied his nerves and granted him good luck for the game.

But this time, his breath hitched.

There she was, sliding into the seat he’d been watching all afternoon. Y/N.

Her eyes found his almost instantly, and for a fleeting moment, the world around him fell away—the roaring crowd, the pressure of the match, even Lionel’s smug presence on the other side of the net. It was just her, sitting there with that familiar stoic expression.

A small smile tugged at Harry’s lips. She was always like this at his matches, focused and intense, watching every move with the same concentration as if she were playing herself. Her unwavering focus sent a spark of determination surging through him.

He adjusted his stance, exhaling slowly as he prepared to serve. With her gaze burning into him, he played to win the entire thing. 

. . .

Mitch had thrown a party to celebrate Harry’s victory over Lionel, just as he always did whenever Harry won anything. It was a tradition Harry had grown fond of, even though he often found himself dreading the expectation to win every time he played. Victory wasn’t typically celebrated in his world—it was expected. But his friends? They always found a way to make a big deal out of it, and Harry appreciated that, even if the attention wasn’t his favorite part. Being around his friends was.

Harry stood in the kitchen, holding a cup of something he couldn’t identify. Mitch was across the room, chatting animatedly with Sarah. Harry was pretty sure Mitch had been infatuated with her ever since she’d transferred to Crestwood four years ago. Watching them, he wondered if Mitch would ever work up the courage to act on it.

He couldn’t help but glance around, hoping to spot someone else. He knew Sarah’s best friend and roommate might be here, too, but there was no guarantee. Unlike Sarah, who thrived on Crestwood’s social gatherings, her quieter counterpart was more selective about where she spent her evenings.

“Hi, Harry.” He turned to see Astrid approaching, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her skin glowing with a fresh tan from her recent holiday in the Maldives. He’d only known about it because his mother, after scrolling through Facebook, couldn’t resist mentioning it during their last phone call.

“Hey, Astrid,” Harry said with a polite smile. He didn’t mind her company, but unlike most of the guys in their year, he didn’t feel attracted to her in the same way they did. Sure, she was stunning—legs for days, an effortless smile—but their shared interests barely went beyond tennis and the fact their parents were friends. Friends who, annoyingly, had been dropping hints about the two of them dating for as long as Harry could remember.

“Congrats on the win. You were amazing out there,” she said, her voice smooth and practiced.

“Thanks. I heard you did well at the Championships the other week,” he replied. He hadn’t actually seen her match but knew through their coach that she’d won.

“Yeah, I’m hoping to qualify for the Australian Open,” she said, her grin widening.

Harry nodded, letting the conversation drift until his gaze caught something—or rather, someone—in the living room. His heart skipped a beat.

There she was.

Her smile lit up her face, radiant and warm, eclipsing even the moonlight streaming through the large windows. Her hair spilled to one side, leaving her neck bare, and she was wearing a sleek black maxi dress paired with chunky heels—an outfit so out of the ordinary for her that it was almost disarming. Harry’s eyes lingered on her longer than they should have, but he didn’t care. He’d been hoping she’d come.

His smile faltered when Adam appeared beside her. Harry’s stomach tightened at the sight. He knew Adam had a soft spot for her—he’d admitted as much—but assured everyone he wasn’t looking for a relationship. Still, seeing them together made something uneasy churn in Harry’s chest.

“Harry?” Astrid’s voice snapped him back to reality. He blinked, realizing he hadn’t heard a word she’d been saying. She followed his line of sight and spotted Y/N. Her tone shifted, tinged with something that wasn’t quite approval.

“Oh, Y/N’s here,” Astrid remarked flatly. “I’m surprised after…everything.”

Harry’s head whipped toward her, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, her surprise seeming genuine. “One of my friends was at the Country Club a couple of weekends ago. She got lost trying to find the bathroom near the pool and overheard her dad yelling at her—apparently for getting a bad grade on her report card. She said he slapped her.”

Harry’s stomach dropped, cold fury replacing the unease. “He what?”

Astrid shrugged, completely unbothered. “I’ve always thought her family was messed up. My dad had a horrible experience at their Country Club—almost sued them after Mom got food poisoning there.” She kept talking, but Harry wasn’t listening anymore.

His attention snapped back to Y/N, watching her closely. Something was different. To anyone else, she probably seemed the same, but Harry knew her too well. He noticed the way her fingers twisted together, fidgeting nervously. Her smile, though bright, didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her makeup seemed heavier than usual; she rarely wore much or applied it sparingly, but today, it looked as though she was trying to mask something—maybe a shadow or imperfection on her cheek, though he couldn’t be sure.

Harry’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. If what Astrid said was true, there was no doubt in his mind—he’d track down her father and make him regret it in ways that didn’t bear sunlight. But first, he needed to talk to her, to make sure she was okay. The problem was, Harry knew her well enough to realise she wouldn’t just open up if he asked. They weren’t even friends. In fact, Harry was pretty sure Y/N didn’t like him at all. 

It wasn’t really a surprise, considering how they’d met—and the fact that he’d spent most of his days tormenting her just to get her attention. It was childish, he knew, but it was easier than admitting how much he actually cared. And he did care—more than he should, more than she probably realised. Beneath all the teasing and arguments, she mattered to him. So, if she was hurt, none of that other stuff mattered. He just needed to make sure she was okay.

When Harry saw Adam walk away, he seized the opportunity to sneak in. As if she could sense his presence, Y/N looked up, her smile immediately fading, and her jaw tightened. Harry couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. There was something exhilarating about her reaction, the way she shifted from neutral to visibly irritated, even if it was driven by nothing but disdain for him.

“I’m surprised you were willing to show up, love,” he said, his voice carrying the familiar, mocking tone.

Y/N’s eyes flashed with irritation at the nickname, her posture stiffening even further. Harry had always loved calling her that—it was almost like a reflex, especially since she absolutely hated it. He relished in the way she bristled, every time.

“Not so willingly, as a matter of fact,” she shot back, her arms folding across her chest. “I’m only here because Sarah wanted me to come.” She still hadn’t taken a sip from her drink, Harry noticed, as if it were some kind of shield between them.

“Excuses, excuses.” He clicked his tongue with a grin, leaning casually against the edge of the table. “What did you think of the match?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his question. “You care what I have to say?” she asked, a slight edge to her voice.

“No,” Yes. he replied, his eyes gleamed with a spark of challenge. “But I know you’ve got something to say anyway.”

She gave him a wry smile, the faintest hint of a laugh on her lips. “Well, it wasn’t one of your best, that’s for sure. Your tracking was terrible. You were lucky Lionel cared more about his appearance than his technique.”

Harry couldn’t suppress the chuckle that escaped him. He knew she wasn’t wrong—tracking had been off, and Lionel had certainly played a little too carefully. The dig was unsurprising to say the least but he took it all on board.

“You always have such charming critiques, don’t you?” Harry smirked. “Should I be worried about your career in commentary?”

Y/N’s replied, the sarcasm was back in full force. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just stick to calling it how I see it. You wouldn’t last five minutes with me in your corner, would you?”

Harry leaned in a little closer, their banter familiar and comfortable despite the tension. “You’d be too distracted by my charm to focus,” he said with a grin, savoring the challenge in her eyes.

Y/N scoffed but couldn’t entirely hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “Right. I think you’d find me too busy pointing out all the flaws you refuse to see.”

“Sounds like a good time,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t look away, the intensity between them palpable in the silence that followed.

“So,” Harry started, the tone shifting slightly, more serious, “what else? What else did you think of the match?” He genuinely wanted to know—part of him knew her critique might actually help him. But the other part of him just liked the way she made him think.

Y/N seemed to hesitate for a split second, the walls she kept up around her cracking just enough for him to notice. “Your footwork was off, too. You were slow on some of your returns, and—”

Harry laughed, cutting her off. “I thought you said you weren’t a fan?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not. But I’ve watched enough matches to know when someone’s not giving it their all.” Her gaze flicked to his eyes, sharp and clear. “And I know you can do better.”

Harry’s smile faltered, something unspoken passing between them, something that felt almost like respect. He had a feeling she wasn’t just talking about the match anymore.

“Well,” he said after a beat, straightening up, “I guess I’ll have to show you just how much better I can be, then.”

Y/N didn’t answer right away, her lips pursed as if she were weighing her options. Finally, she shrugged, that same familiar look of defiance in her eyes. “We’ll see.”

Harry’s eyes lingered on her for longer than he intended, “What about you?” He took a sip of his drink. 

She frowns, “What about me?”

“I haven’t seen you training recently,” He said. 

Y/N’s expression faltered, her eyes flashing with something like hurt or fear. “I haven’t had time.”

“What do you mean? I don’t think I’ve spent a day where I haven’t seen you on the court.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Harry’s brows furrowed as he studied her. There was something about the way she shifted on her feet, the subtle way her fingers tightened around the cup in her hand. It wasn’t the first time he’d sensed something was off, but hearing her say she didn’t want to talk about it made his curiosity spike. It was rare for Y/N to hide anything, especially from him. He’d spent enough time observing her—dissecting her every reaction, every word—to know when something wasn’t right.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, leaning forward, his voice losing its usual teasing edge. “You know you can talk to me, right?” He almost regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Not because he didn’t mean them, but because he knew she wouldn’t believe it—not after everything.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, Harry thought she might brush him off entirely. Instead, she let out a soft, almost bitter laugh. “Yeah, right,” she muttered, not meeting his eyes. “Since when?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. She was right—he had never given her much reason to trust him. But right now, as much as it pissed him off that she was shutting him out, he couldn’t help but feel... protective. There was something going on with her, something more than she was letting on, and it was like a switch had flipped inside him.

“Y/N,” he repeated, his voice softer now, “I’m not gonna push you, but if something’s going on, you don’t have to go through it alone. You know that, right?”

Her eyes finally met his, and for a brief moment, Harry thought he saw a crack in her tough exterior—a flicker of vulnerability—but it was gone in an instant. She shook her head, her gaze hardening.

“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

Harry didn’t buy it, and he didn’t think she expected him to. He knew he was on dangerous territory—one misstep, and no doubt she would lash out at him for putting his nose into business that was nothing to do with him. But something in him refused to let this go. He couldn’t just sit there, watching her shut him out.

“Come with me,” he said, motioning for her to follow him, the command in his voice surprising even him.

Y/N glanced at him, confused, her arms still crossed defensively. “What?”

“I’m taking you outside,” Harry said, already standing and grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. He could tell she was about to protest, could see the hesitation in her eyes. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of something—determination, maybe, or a mix of things he couldn’t quite name. “You need a break. You’re tense as hell, and I don’t like seeing you like this.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Harry cut her off. “Trust me. It’ll be good for you.”

For a moment, Y/N seemed like she might just walk away, but then she sighed, as if giving in to the inevitable. “Fine. But don’t get any ideas.”

Harry smirked, fighting the urge to laugh. “No promises,” he teased, already walking toward the door.

Outside, the late afternoon sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the empty tennis courts. Harry tossed her a tennis racket, watching as she caught it awkwardly. He was doing this for her—for whatever was weighing on her, for whatever had her retreating behind that wall. He wasn’t sure if tennis was the right call, but it was something he knew they both shared, something that might bring down some of her defenses.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious about this?”

“Dead serious,” Harry replied, stepping onto the court. He grinned at her.

She hesitated before stepping onto the court, but when she did, Harry could see a flicker of something else in her—the tension in her shoulders loosening, just a bit. She wasn’t fully on board yet, but the corners of her lips twitched upward, and that was something.

They began to rally, hitting the ball back and forth with the kind of casual ease that came from years of practice. Y/N’s form was sharp, fluid, and Harry couldn't help but be impressed, as he always was. But it wasn’t just the way she played that had him captivated.

It was the way she laughed.

The sound was light, unguarded, a sound he hadn’t heard from her in so long. It was like the weight of everything had lifted for a moment, leaving behind only the carefree side of Y/N he rarely got to see. She had a natural smile, the kind that reached her eyes and made them sparkle with a mischievous glint. Harry couldn’t look away.

Her laughter filled the air, echoing across the empty courts, and for a fleeting second, everything felt right. Harry’s heart skipped in his chest as he watched her, the way her eyes shone with a genuine sense of freedom. It wasn’t just the way she looked in that moment—it was how she felt, and how much he wanted to be the reason she smiled like that.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. He had always known he had a thing for her—he didn’t even try to deny it anymore. But this was different. He wasn’t just in awe of how she looked, or the way she challenged him to be better—he was infatuated with her.

The thought hit him hard, and he tried to push it aside, to focus on the game. But with every smile, every laugh, Harry found himself falling deeper, in a way that he couldn’t control. There was something about her—the way she made everything feel effortless, the way her presence seemed to fill up the space, making everything more vibrant. She was everything he wasn’t—bold, unafraid, untouchable in some ways. And Harry was starting to realize how much he wanted to be the one to reach her.

When Y/N hit a particularly good shot and spun around with that radiant smile, Harry felt a flutter in his chest. He swallowed, his throat tight, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he could handle being this close to her without completely falling apart.

“You’re not half bad,” she teased, breathless from the rally.

Harry grinned, the praise warming him in a way he hadn’t expected. “I know. You should be honored to play with me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite suppress the grin tugging at her lips. “You’re insufferable.”

And there it was again—her laugh, the way she made everything feel lighter. Harry caught himself smiling at her, not the cocky, playful smile he usually wore, but something more sincere. Something that spoke volumes of how much he was starting to feel for her—how much he had already felt.

They rallied for another few minutes, the sun dipping lower as the evening air turned cooler. But Harry wasn’t paying attention to the time, or the way the game was unfolding. All he could focus on was the way her hair caught the last of the sunlight, the way her eyes gleamed with happiness—and how damn beautiful she was.

“You’re good,” Harry finally said, his voice quieter than usual, almost like a confession.

Y/N gave him a curious look, then smirked. “You finally noticing?”

He wanted to say more, to tell her exactly what he was thinking—but it would only complicate things. Instead, he just nodded, watching her carefully, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I’ve always noticed,” he said, his voice a little too soft, betraying the quiet ache he felt inside.

Y/N paused, her expression softening for a brief moment before her usual mask of sarcasm slipped back into place. “Well, I’m glad you finally decided to admit it.”

The smile she gave him in return was genuine, full of warmth. And for a moment, Harry forgot about the rest of the world, just watching her, heart in his throat, wondering how he had gotten so lucky—and so lost in someone who would never even look at him the same way.

Y/N took a few steps back, wiping a hand across her forehead, trying to shake off the intensity of the game and the weight of the conversation that had been hanging between them. Harry still stood there, watching her, his breath a little heavier from the rally but his focus unwavering. It was as if he was waiting for something to break, for her to say the words he didn’t want to hear but somehow feared.

She didn’t look at him for a moment, her eyes scanning the ground like she was trying to find some way out. But then, when she spoke, her voice was softer than usual, almost reluctant. "You were right earlier... about me being tense," she said, barely above a whisper.

Harry tilted his head, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. His heart rate picked up, and he took a tentative step toward her. “What do you mean?”

Y/N hesitated, clearly at war with herself, as if saying the words out loud would somehow make them more real. But Harry could see the way her fingers curled tighter around her tennis racket, the way her shoulders were drawn up protectively.

“Something happened... with my dad,” she finally admitted, the words slipping out in a rush, like she couldn’t stop them once she started.

Harry’s chest tightened, but he kept his expression neutral, unwilling to push her too much. "What happened?"

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes redder than usual, her face more vulnerable than he'd ever seen it. "He... slapped me," she said, the words a simple admission but heavy enough to make the air around them thick with tension.

The air in Harry’s lungs seemed to stop for a moment. His chest tightened, fists clenching at his sides as the words echoed in his mind. Slapped her.

He was careful not to let the anger build, though it was hard. The thought of anyone hurting her—let alone her father—lit a fire of fury inside him, but he knew he couldn’t let it show. Not now. Not when she was looking at him like that, so fragile and raw.

“Y/N,” Harry said softly, stepping closer. His voice was low, almost as if he were afraid the words might break something inside her. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head, her lips trembling slightly. “You don’t have to apologize,” she murmured, her voice thick with something he couldn’t quite place. “I don’t want your pity.”

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry replied quickly, his gaze steady. He took a slow, steadying breath. “I’m angry, though. At him. But I’m not pitying you, Y/N. You’re... you’re strong. You don’t deserve that. You never have.”

She blinked, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to steady herself. Harry could see her fighting it—fighting the tears, fighting the emotions that were threatening to spill over.

“I got a low grade on my report card this semester,” she whispered after a beat, her voice so small it almost hurt to hear. “My parents think it’s because I spend too much time playing. They threatened to stop funding my schooling if I didn’t quit. Not that I’m going to quit, but I have to lay low for a while.”

Harry’s heart broke at her words. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take, the thought of her in such a difficult situation, but he forced himself to stay composed. She was so strong, but there was only so much someone could take.

“Does he…” Harry hesitated, the words feeling too heavy to speak, but he forced them out anyway, “Does he do that often?”

Y/N opened her mouth to speak but paused, her gaze dropping to the ground for a long moment. The silence stretched between them, and Harry felt that pit in his stomach grow deeper with each passing second. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

“It wasn’t the first time,” she said, her voice faltering. “But he doesn’t do it often.”

Harry’s eyes darkened with barely-contained anger. His hands clenched at his sides, a reflex he couldn’t control. “Y/N, he shouldn’t be doing it at all,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and tight. He wanted to reach for her, to pull her close and hold her, but something held him back. He knew she wasn’t ready for that, and he didn’t want to push her further away.

“No man should ever lay a hand on you,” he added, his voice raw with emotion. “Not ever. You don’t deserve that. No one does.”

Y/N stayed quiet for a long time, her face a mixture of exhaustion and something else Harry couldn’t name. She looked up at him, eyes glistening, but there was no hint of softness in her expression. She had her walls up again, already rebuilding what little had cracked.

“I don’t want your sympathy, Harry,” she said firmly, her voice regaining some of its usual sharpness. “And I don’t need you to protect me. I’ll deal with it.”

Harry’s chest tightened, frustration bubbling to the surface. “But you don’t have to do it alone,” he said, taking a step closer, his voice softer now. “I can’t just stand by and pretend like nothing’s wrong. You shouldn’t have to carry this by yourself.”

She shook her head, but this time, there was no bite in it—just a sad resignation. “You don’t get it,” she muttered, her eyes darting to the side. “I’m not some fragile thing that needs to be protected. I don’t want your help. I just want to get through this on my own.”

Harry could feel the walls she’d built between them—walls made of pain and pride—climbing higher, and the instinct to break them down was strong. But he knew, deep down, he couldn’t force her to open up, especially not when she wasn’t ready.

“I’m not trying to save you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice tinged with something like regret. “I’m just here. Whenever you need someone to listen, or... whatever else you need. Just know that.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, but he could see the smallest tremor in her shoulders as she exhaled. Finally, after a long pause, she spoke again, her voice quiet but firm.

“I don't need help,” she said, her words like a wall being slammed shut. “I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need anyone to try and fix me.”

Harry’s heart dropped, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he wanted to admit. But he understood. She was trying to keep control of a situation that was already slipping through her fingers. And maybe she wasn’t ready to let him in, no matter how much he wanted to be there for her.

“I’m not trying to fix you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper now, the weight of his emotions slipping through despite himself. “I just... I care about you, Y/N. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Her eyes flicked to his, sharp and guarded. “I don’t need help but I’ll keep that in mind.”

Harry’s chest tightened, but he didn’t let his gaze drop. “Alright,” he said softly. “But I’ll be here. Whenever you need me.”

Y/N didn’t respond, and Harry didn’t push. Instead, he stood there for a moment longer, looking at her, wishing he could say more—do more—make her feel safe, but knowing it wasn’t his place to force anything. For now, all he could do was wait.

And somehow, that felt worse than anything.

“Want to go another round?” Harry asked, his voice lighter, searching for a way to ease the tension.

“I think we should probably head back. Sarah might be looking for me.” Y/Ns expression softens.

“Right” the last thing Harry wanted to do was leave this pocket of space they were in together. He savoured any rare moment of time he had with her alone and this was one of them.

They walked side by side, the silence between them not uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken truths. As they approached his flat, Y/N glanced at him, her voice quiet but firm. “This doesn’t change anything, you know. I don’t want you to look at me differently just because I couldn’t defend myself against my dad. I’m strong—it just… it caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Harry stopped, turning to her with an earnestness that made her chest tighten. “Y/N, this doesn’t change a thing. Not about how I see you, or what I think of you. You’re still the strongest person I know.”

Her lips quirked in a small, tentative smile. “Good,” she said softly. Then, with a playful glint in her eyes, she added, “And you better win the final.”

Harry chuckled, his own smile breaking through. For her, he would.

For her, he’d do anything.

. . . 

Harry walked into the school the next day with his tie askew, shirt unbuttoned just enough to show his white t-shirt underneath, and his blazer slung casually over his shoulder, hooked with his middle finger. He had no particular reason to look so disheveled—he just liked the chaos it seemed to cause.

As he passed Mitch’s locker, he caught sight of Y/N walking down the hallway. Her eyes were trained straight ahead, like she was in her own world, but Harry couldn’t resist. He flashed a smirk and called out, “Hey, love.”

She immediately paused and turned to face him. Her expression was unreadable for a moment, then the corner of her lips twitched slightly, but her eyes were all ice.

“Seriously?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, seriously,” Harry teased, not backing down. “You got something against me saying hello?”

“Not really,” she replied dryly, her arms crossing over her chest. “But I’m guessing you’re doing it just to get a reaction.”

“You know me too well,” Harry said with a grin. “But still, can’t help it. You just look... irresistible when you’re pissed off.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement hiding beneath the irritation. Without saying a word, she lifted her middle finger and gave him a quick, deliberate flip-off. Then, as she turned to walk away, she allowed herself to smile, just a little—just enough for Harry to catch it.

He watched her walk off, his smirk fading as something tighter, warmer, filled his chest. He had always loved the way she carried herself—so confident, even when she was annoyed with him. He liked that she never made it easy. But right now, as she walked away, all he could think was how much he was falling for her.

"God," he muttered under his breath, watching her disappear down the hallway. "I’m so screwed."

[biancadoes1]

FAVE ANON HERE 😏

It’s been a minute since I’ve submitted but after the vitriol I have seen on Twitter this weekend, I felt the need to speak…

First things first, all of us are brought here with one definitive common thread - we are all fans of Bridgerton. If we were not, we would probably not find ourselves in this fandom at all.

With that being said, if you’re on this blog you are probably a fan of both Nicola AND Luke. More than likely, you want them to be together romantically or believe they already are. And if you don’t want any of that, I don’t know why you’re here reading this posts. This is how you become a troll.

You are allowed to be a fan of one and not the other. This is not a dictatorship and no one is holding a gun to your heads. But this is the point where it is VITAL for me to remind you how many times Nic and Luke have a real love for each other and at the core are best friends. WHAT THIS MEANS IS you cannot call yourself a fan of one of them while simultaneously spreading hate and contempt and overall nastiness about the other one all over social media.

Now I have approached the topic of the RUMORED insignificant others. Did you know that there is no general rule of fandom that states if you are a fan of a character performer that you must also become a fan of any performers they may date now or in the future? WHAT THIS MEANS IS THAT no one is required to become Jake’s #1 fan just because the rumor mill wants to say Nic is dating him. Hell no one has to become his #1 fan if Nic herself came out and said she was dating him. Again, there is no need to speak with malice about his looks or his talent all over the internet but you do not have to be a fan. Same goes for the dancer who shall not be named (I know it’s a trigger for many around here). And if they act in deplorable ways - such as the dancer has displayed in the past - you are allowed to speak out on it while using decorum.

This is ultimately bringing me back to why I wrote this today. Tell me why I’m seeing tweets talking about how Jake is a more successful and more talented actor than Luke. Tweets saying Luke can’t act and how amazing Jake is. These tweets are from Bridgerton “fans”. These tweets are from Nicola “fans”. Based on everything I’ve written up until now, the math ain’t mathing on the word “fan”.

I’m not spreading hate to Jake. Fact of the matter, he’s a 24 year old kid almost fresh out of drama school. He has had one season of a failed show on a streaming network riddled with failed shows. He now has a small part in a movie that probably is not even recognized yet out of this fandom and extreme movie fans - if we’re being honest. Luke is 31 and is on his 4th season of one of Netflix’s top shows. He was the male lead last season and the season broke records. He was on a Disney channel show when he was younger. He was on multiple stage shows on the West End. He’s had many other roles in smaller projects and just picked up a lead role in a new film. While it is considered an independent film, it is a LEAD role.

With that evidence laid out, how can anyone actually say with their full chest that Jake is the better and more successful actor? Oh right they can’t. What it comes down to is the fact that the “Jakola shipping” movement is not based on anything more than being an Anti-Luke Newton movement and it is GROSS. No matter what they tell you, there was no “relationship” being universally talked about prior to late summer. On August 25 those festival pictures were released and some very twisted narcissistic people in this fandom took them and ran with them. They created a narrative to help dictate what and who people in this fandom are allowed to discuss online. They’ve bullied creators off of TikTok and Twitter and gaslight the hell out of everyone when called on it. A 24 year old gay man (OMG I SAID IT) is being bullied on the internet and the blame is fully being put on “Lukolas” when the truth is that no one would be paying any attention to him if this narrative wasn’t perpetuated in the first place. (Side note: if you’re sending hate to Jake on behalf of being a Lukola, please stop. Please treat him like you treat every other one of Nic’s male friends. No one should be getting hate.)

The majority of the hate and toxicity in this fandom stems with the Jakolas Jackholes and those who blindly follow and defend a certain creator. I’m not going to say her name because I know how much she gets off on people talking about her (even when it’s bad) AHAH. This is the shit that everyone else is afraid to say out loud but it’s true. And for those of you in that discord reading this to report back, hiiii!

Oh and if anyone has a problem with this and wants to call me out for being on Anon, let me know and I’ll DM you because I’m not afraid. I’m grownup.

Xx

Finally seeing people with common sense!

My fave anon pulls through yet again.

Everyone say thank you fave anon.

[ramhaiba]

𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗋, 𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝗍. 2

Pairing- Yandere Rintaro Suna x Reader

Masterlist . . . Part one

"For what it’s worth, princess, if the devil is real. It’s me.”

Contains- Serial Killer! Suna, oral (f receiving), dubcon, semi-public fingering, groping, choking, biting, manhandling, riding overstimulation, marathon sex, mentions of necrophilia/noncon, implied somnophila, baby trapping(?) A/N- sorry for the long wait guys, writer's block can be a bitch

Sleeping with him was the biggest mistake of your life-

No. letting him ‘help’ you was the biggest mistake of your life. 

Ever since you two had sex, he’s been sleeping in the same bed as you. You did attempt to persuade him to sleep on the couch once again but he simply responded with

‘We both saw what happens when I sleep on the couch, sweetheart. Besides, sharing the same bed might bring back some of those ‘dear’ memories you lost.”  As you predicted, it would be challenging to sneak out of your room at night, especially when Suna’s arm is wrapped around your waist, his chin tucked on your shoulder, and his stern back against your chest.

You thought about lying to him, telling him you’re getting up from bed to use the bathroom but really you’re planning to find his car keys and drive away from this nightmare. But what if you take too long and he gets suspicious? Last time you got lucky when he misunderstood your attempt to steal his car keys.

You hate that you spent the entire week with him, pretending to be in a loving marriage, kissing him sweetly, and sometimes bathing with him. But he hasn’t fucked you since the first time- well with his dick at least. 

If he thinks you look too cute in a nightgown- which you always do, he’ll push you down on the bed, scrunching up your silky slip-on onto your breast and shamelessly make out with your cunt, fingers holding your thighs down and apart to keep you from squirming away. He never fails to give you an intense orgasm. You're so addicted to his touch that you don’t know how you’ll be able to cum again once you escape from him...While on the topic of escaping, you’re finding the idea of freedom too difficult to obtain by yourself. You’re gonna need help.

“ So- I remember you mentioned before that we were still friends with twins from high school” You blurted out while having dinner with your ‘fiancé.’

“ Yeah, Osamu and Atsumu. What about them?” Suna asked nonchalantly. “Well, I think you should invite them over. I think it’d be good for me to meet someone from my past” you suggested.

“ It’d be hard to contact them because the service in this place is horrible” Suna claimed, leaning back in his chair. You let out an instant “oh” with a noticeable pout on your lips.

Then you heard Suna sigh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Okay. There is this part of the house where the service is somewhat usable. But it’s on the roof so I don’t want you following me there. Your body is still sore which makes it difficult for you to stay up there without falling” Suna pointed out.

He’s right. You’ll probably hurt yourself if you try going on that roof. So the idea of stealing his phone to call for help isn’t possible.

“You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you, Rin” You complimented. “ Yeah well, I gotta keep my wife happy” Suna got up and kissed your forehead before retreating upstairs.

You waited impatiently for Suna to come back down. A sick part of you wishes that he’d accidentally slip off the roof, breaking his neck because then you’d be freed from this nightmare. But he only takes twenty minutes to come back down, placing his phone back into his pocket as he walks towards you.

“So? Did they say yes?” you questioned. “They said they would love to stop by. But I had to make Atsumu promise he wouldn’t bring another hookup over. I better start cooking dinner because those two guys know how to eat- especially Osamu” Suna replied, giving you an endearing pat on the head as he went to prepare for their arrival. 

--

You hadn’t seen any pictures of the twins prior before they arrived, so it was quite intimidating when two muscular tall men stood at your doorstep. The dark-haired one holding a classic bottle of wine. While Atsumu opened his arms to you, giving you an unwelcomed hug.

“There is our Y/n. It’s been too long since we saw ya” The bold twin one cooed, his arms around you tightened.

“You’re one foot in and already flirtin’ with my fiance- don’t you have any shame, Atsumu?” Suna replied, subtly informing you of the difference between the twins.

So if the blonde, somewhat pervy, twin was Atsumu. The other one must be Osamu.

“I ain’t flirting. I was just being friendly to a friend who’s gotten into a terrible- just terrible accident “ Atsumu pouted.

“I decided to tell them your situation. I hope you don’t mind” Suna commented, smiling innocently.

It’s unsettling.

They’re completely lying to you- you’re not friends with them. How are they so eerily confident then? How can these two lie straight to your face and pretend that you’re Suna's fiancé?

Because you’re not. You’re not his fiancé. 

Right?

Dinner with them made you even more confused. They’re doing the same thing that Suna did. Reciting old stories about your so-called past together. It’s getting more difficult to distinguish what’s the truth or not. Yet Atsumu’s words manage to slip you back into reality.

“You should really be thanking me. If I set you two up in college- y’all would not be getting married.. at least Suna wouldn’t be” Atsumu teased.

“I thought we started dating in high school?” You spoke up, pointing out Atsumu’s mistake. Rather than Atsumu getting embarrassed for making such an innocent mistake. 

Atsumu got nervous.

If you weren’t already so superstitious during dinner, you wouldn’t have noticed how he blinked away, how forced his laughter sounded, and how his brother deadly glared at him.

“Would you pardon us? I think I have to remind Atsumu about some manners” Osamu asked, seeming all friendly while his jawline clenched, a fist under the table. 

Suna clicked him, glancing at a nervous Atsumu and then back at Osamu.” Go ahead,” Suna replied.

You were left alone with him once again.

You and you’re fiancé-no he’s not your fiancé. You and your demon.

“You’re lookin’ a bit nervous, sweetheart. Are you feeling okay? Just say the word and I can get these idiots to leave any time” Suna suggested. “No- they don’t need to leave. I just need to go to the bathroom to freshen up. That’s all” Your laughter sounded a bit too forced, sweaty palms pushing you up out of your seat. “Don’t take too long” Suna mumbled, watching you march quickly out of the dining room.

This is your chance.

You can ask- no- you're going to beg the twins to help you because surely, they wouldn’t want to risk being an accomplice for a serial killer.

You followed their distant voices, words too unintelligible to understand. Eventually, you ended up in front of the door connecting the garage to the summer house. Luckily, they left the door slightly ajar, allowing you to hear their conversation clearly.

You were about to walk in before you heard Osamu say

“Are you a fuckin’ idiot, Tsumu? At this point, Suna not gonna let either of us have a turn with her” Osamu argued with his brother.

“Shut up- shut up. I’m a fuckin’ volleyball player not an actor” Atsumu huffed. “Yeah and I own a restaurant but I know how to keep my story straight,” Osamu remarked.

“I don’t even know why Suna cares s’much about keeping up this whole game” Atsumu commented.

“he’s just gonna kill her like the rest.”

Your heart is racing because your last hope of escaping this n nightmare just revealed they could care less about your life- fuck they could be worse than Suna. Instinctually, you step away from the door, wanting to be as far away from them as possible. But that’s when you feel a stern chest against your back, stopping you from backing away. You slowly turn your head and notice Suna behind you, his eyes glued on the view of the twins arguing about whether they’ll still get a ‘turn’ with you after Atsumu’s mishap.

“Rin-“

“Quiet. It’s always amusing to watch the twins argue, right? “ Suna replied, his hand tilting your face to watch the twins, his chin resting on top of your head, forcing you to watch the truth unfold.

“You know he does sadistic shit like this all the time. Just try to have fun with her while she’s still alive” Osamu huffed.

“I didn’t come here to play an actor. I just wanna fuck her before Suna finally cuts her up or whatever sadistic shit he plans to do with her” Atsumu groaned.

“ Yeah, well, there's no way in hell he’s gonna let you have a turn with her if you don’t play along correctly. You’d be lucky if he even lets you fuck her corpse” 

Atsumu hummed, his once annoyed attitude slowly disappearing as he looked lost in thought- until he made the comment

“I wouldn’t mind that at all actually.”

You want to stop listening but Suna won’t let you. “Please, just let me go and I won’t- I won’t tell anyone” you muttered, voice cracking. Suna laid his forehead on your shoulder, you could feel his smile on his skin.

“What about our wedding?” he cooed, voice teasing, his hands wrapping around your waist, tips of his fingers sliding under your waistband.

“Rintarou, please- I-I don’t want to die. I’ll do anything just don’t hurt me” you begged. 

“I don’t like when you call me by my first name, it makes me feel like I’m in trouble” Suna commented, a soft pout on his lips. This time his hands are traveling further down the inside of your pants until his fingers are tracing over your covered slit. You wish you could fight his touch but you’re too scared to upset him.

“Rin, I don’t wanna pretend anymore. I just wanna go home” You’re starting to cry and he doesn’t need to look at your face to know that tears are pouring out of your eyes.

You act like you’re strong but the second you’re faced with a challenge, you crack like glass. So easy to read. Maybe that’s why he likes you so much.

“You wanna go home? Go ahead and ask the twins for help. But I don’t if they’ll be that compliant” Suna suggested. He’s right. He’s always right.

“I like you. I don’t think I’ve ever been so infatuated with a person like this before. So I’ll give you two choices. You could either go beg the twins to take you away from this ‘hell house’ or

you can become my pretty wife”

 You don't want any of that. You want to run far far away. But he’ll catch you like he did the first time and then he might actually kill you.

“So, what will it be, princess?” He repeats, forcing you to break from your silence. That nickname, it always appears when his true colors are shown. You're starting to hate that word because now you associate it with danger.

“How do I know you won’t kill me,” you ask, in the quietest voice, afraid of his answer. He chuckles at your question, raises his head from your shoulder, and smiles.

“Because I'll never get bored of you.”

That’s all it takes. You nod your head, not wanting to hear yourself agree to stay. To be his, forever.

He leans over, lips almost touching yours, narrow eyes with an unwearying stare forcing you to look at him. 

“You know how to keep quiet, don’t you Mrs. Suna?”

That’s when his wandering fingers finally slip beneath your panties and you’re reminded that Osamu and Atsumu are right behind the door in front of you. “Rin, not here” you begged, squirming to get out of his grip, only for him to hold you tighter.

“Why not? Atsumu would probably wanna hear, that fuckin’ freak” Suna laughed. Just as you were about to utter an argument, you’re cut short by the painfully slow pumping of Suna’s fingers, thrusting into your cunt. You feel weak.

Instead of telling him to stop, your words cut into a breathy moan and Suna is forced to lean over to your ear.

“ Careful, princess. You don’t want them to hear you.” He whispered a reminder, tongue poking out of his mouth to lick a stripe down your neck, causing you only to tighten around his long thrusting fingers. 

“ Try to argue with me but I can feel how wet you are. Maybe you’re the crazy one huh? Or maybe it’s both of us. Guess we're soulmates then” he’s talking more than he usually does. Maybe because he knows you're scared to get caught.

Or maybe he’s drunk on the success of your agreement to your engagement. Doesn’t matter because he’s only getting more confident, pulling down the neckline of your shirt as long as your bra with his other hand, groping the soft skin of your breast all while his thumb is massaging your clit.

Fuck- you’re so close and he’s so fucking hard, forced to grind his painful erection against your back.

You feel pathetic when you're uncontrollably humping his ruthless fingers, chasing your high. 

When you hear him chuckle from behind you, most likely realizing your movement- he has no right to sound so fucking sexy.

“Can’t believe you were begging me to stop, aren’t you just the prettiest liar.” He mumbles.

And you’re finishing on his fingers, legs shaking, eyes tearing up, your hands covering your mouth muffling uncontrollable moans.

Suna slowly pulls his hands out of your pants, bringing his drenched fingers into your mouth, disgustedly making you clean his fingers, tasting yourself. 

He spins you towards him, leaning over to wipe off your smeared make up, fixing your appearance for you because you are all too stunned by what has just occurred.

Just on time, Atsumu and Osamu are opening the door, both surprised to see you.

“ Holy fuck- how long were you two standing there" Atsumu called out. You both turn around to look at them, Suna wrapping one arm around your shoulder, pulling you to his side.

“We just walked in actually” Suna lied for your sake.

“ Well…Wow! look at the time- “ Atsumu said, checking his watch, pretending to read the time. “It’s getting late, ain’t it? I’m a bit too tired to drive…guess me and Osamu gotta stay over the night” Atsumu whistled.

Holy fuck- Atsumu and Osamu still think they have a chance with you. 

You’re beginning to tremble at Suna’s side, fully not trusting him to protect you.

“I’ll call you two an uber,” Suna says blankly.

You could see Atsumu grit his teeth, not knowing why he wasn’t getting rewarded for  his ‘efforts.’

“Well- can we at least visit tomorrow” Osamu questioned, trying to hint if they’ll at least have a chance to fuck your dead corpse.

Sick mother fuckers. Just like Suna- maybe even worse.

“Next time we’ll see you is at our wedding” Suna smiled passively aggressively, knowing he just pissed off the twins.

Atsumu is about to open his mouth, most likely attending to spoil the truth because Suna ruined all of his ‘fun.’ But Osamu stops him by gripping the back of Atsumu’s shirt.

“ No need to argue with an old friend. We’ll leave… just call us next time when we’re allowed to come over” Osamu sighed.

Then they proceed to leave. Not without Atsumu forcing you into a hug, his hand dangerous lying on your lower back, a final act of perversion. They leave and you’re left alone with Suna and his narrow eyes are locked on yours. 

“Could fuck you here or on the bed. Pick one”

There is no option to deny him. He is going to be your husband after all.

“Bed.”

He’s not even letting you walk there, probably thinking you’ll move too slowly for his liking. So he's picking you up effortlessly because of his muscular arms, delivering you to the bedroom before and tossing you onto the mattress. He’s on top of you in a heartbeat, his hands tugging off your clothes, not caring if you’re telling him to slow down because they’ll rip.

He’ll buy you a new one- fuck he’ll buy you anything you’d want as long as he gets to fuck that tight pussy of yours.

Your heart is slipping at the sound of his belt unbuckling, too nervous to look at the sight of him sliding down any of the clothes covering his hard cock.

“Fuckin’ you raw, yeah? Doesn’t matter anymore since we’ll be married soon” Suna clicks his tongue, holding his heavy cock in his hands, pressing his leaking tip against your hole.

You shake your head frantically, “Don’t please Rin- don’t do that to me” you shuttered.

“ What? Ya afraid you’ll conceive the devil’s reincarnation? For what it’s worth, princess, if the devil is real. 

It’s me.”

Without another argument he’s forcing himself into your shameless cunt causing a gasp to slip out of your mouth, not waiting for you to adjust until he’s fucking you into the bed. You’re holding onto everything but him. And he doesn’t like this- it’s not wife behavior is it?

So he leans over and painfully bites into your collarbone, “ hurt me back.” He commands.

And you give him exactly what he wants, slipping your hands under his shirt, digging your nails into his toned back, causing him to only get fuck you harder like it a competition on who can break the quickest.

You’re not holding back your moans- thankful for the lack of people near you, only giving Suna the privilege of hearing them.

Once you orgasm for the second time that night, he’s switching positions and forcing you to take him on his lap, his back resting on the bed frame.

You know what he wants you to do but you’re already so tired, you drowsily shake your head, hoping he’ll stop, and let finally you sleep.

Except all you do is annoy him, hissing under his breath as his hands grip your hips, forcing you to bounce on his cock, overstimulating your insides.

“ Slow down, Rin-“ you asked, knowing he won’t let you stop but at least the idea of slowing down seems possible.

“You wanna go slow, princess? Then you gotta do it yourself” he commented. You hesitate before nodding your head, thinking it’s a better option than letting him fuck you relentlessly.

His hands go behind his head while yours leans over on his thigh, slowly pushing yourself up, sucking in your breath and you sink back down.

Suna whistled at the sight of you fucking yourself on his cock, acting like the perfect wife. 

He’s moving the hair out of your face before wrapping his hands around your neck, freaking you out as he lightly squeezes the sides of your neck. The action is causing you to stop your movement.

“Did I tell you to stop?” He asked, tightening the grip around your neck, making it harder to breathe, a growing light-headed.

Your hands are shaking as you’re lifting yourself up and down on his cock. It’s humiliating, knowing you’re getting off because of him- how easily he has control of your body

“Say you’ll stay” he pants, chest heaving, feeling your cunt squeezing on his cock because of his husky voice.

“ Say you’ll stay forever. Can’t ever leave my side, princess. Dont think I can live without this pussy” he asks, face flushed.

“ I’ll stay—Rin” you managed to croak out with the tightness around your neck.

That’s all he needs until he’s leaning over to your torso, hands moving to grip your waist,  forcing you to stay still on his cock, cumming deep into your pussy.

You think that’ll be it for tonight until he’s pulling back and kissing you, tongue slipping into your mouth, hands moving to grope your breast again until he’s hard once more.

He’s manhandling you until you’re on your hands and knees. He's behind you, watching your legs shake as he guides his cock back into your stuffed pussy, fucking his leaking cum back into you.

You’re screaming from overstimulation, tears soaking the bed sheet under your eyes, hands gripping onto the bed sheet. You feel like you’re being crushed when he presses his chest against your back, his arms wrapped around your lower stomach, cock bullying your insides.

He’s never this energetic.

And you’re also never this honest, finally admitting to knowing the truth behind this charade. But you tell him you’ll stay isn’t something he believes in.

“ Bet you’re thinking about leavin’ when I’m asleep, yeah?” He huffed against the nape of your neck.

“You’d probably find a way to kill me first though. You’re not dumb enough to think I won’t find you” he uttered, talking to you as if he’s not fucking you into oblivion.

“ Doesn’t matter if m’dead or not. I’ll always be with you- every second til the day you fuckin' die, you'll be thinking about me. dreaming about me. haunted by me. So don’t you dare test me. Just be good and I’ll be good back. I fuck you good as well” he adds, his finger rubbing your swollen clit while his hips are forcing you to the edge, squeezing his cock so hard he can’t pull out to cum- not like he was going to do in the first place.

Suna lifts himself and rolls you to the side, admiring your fucked out expression, how you’re staring at the ceiling, chest heaving as you recover from your intense orgasm.

“ Maybe if fuck a baby into you. You wouldn't be able to leave,”Suna commented, the lack of playfulness in his tone suggested to you that he was actually serious about the idea of knocking you up.

“ I'm not - I not planning on leaving— I won’t do it, Rin. I’m telling the truth” you babbled, crying at the idea of going another round, hands frantically wiping down tears that felt never-ending.

Suna chuckles because for once, he believes you. He leans over and kisses your cheek sweetly.

“I’ll be nice and give you a morning-after pill I got laying around somewhere afterward, yeah? I’ll take care of you, but you gotta take care of me,” he cooed.

You are too cute. So much more innocent than Suna is- never committing the horrendous crimes he’s done. And he thinks you begging him to spare you from sex is so much more exciting than you begging him for your life.

But to you- it feels like you’re begging for the same thing. You’ll die if he fucks you again- that your body is too overstimulated and exhausted.

That doesn’t stop him- nothing will really, from getting hard, thrusting into you again. You don’t know when he stopped fucking you- was it after you passed out the third time? Or did he continue ever after that? When it’s over, you’re half awake, back leaning on his chest, his hand ushering you to take the suggested birth control in his hand. Then slowly tilt the glass of water down your mouth. While you manage to drink the refreshing liquid, you get a glance of the mess between your spread legs, cum shameless dripping out and you wish you never met him.

You’re awake and you don’t feel physically dirty, the evidence of cum wiped off your legs by Suna while you were sleeping. 

If he hadn’t marked your body with his teeth and hands, you’d almost pretend last night was nonexistent. Plus the aroma coming from him cooking from the kitchen downstairs only ruins the fantasy even more.

Maybe you’ll run away one day and get away with it. But you can’t say you could ever truly escape, Suna.

Because that would just make you a liar.

taglist @fynn1issshh @kodsuken

[memori662]

KIAN vs ALEXA (my two dear snipers...)

Spoiler: they end up as besties

And sorry if the P.O.V. is strange. Idk why sometimes they're written in first person and another times in third person.

Bang!

Alexa dogdes the bullet just by a hair.

Bang! Bang!

Now, what the fuck?

“Hey, to whoever is trying to kill me: I'm sure I have no debts. And if you're looking for any debts my parents might had...” She smoothly takes out her hand-gun. “I'll make sure you don't get your prize.”

Her eyes search for any strange movement. Any sound. Anything. And they land on a green fluffy ball (?) on one of the buildings.

The green fluffy ball (?) must've noticed her eyes on ‘itself’, as ‘it’ —in an abnormal velocity— changes placement.

“It's a solo sniper? Snipers don't usually attack alone. Or it's a very good sniper or there's more enemies.”

Shit. She has lost sight of ‘it’.

“Are you being a coward?” Maybe provokating whoever that might be lure ‘it’ out. “I mean, if you're a sniper that some dark organization hired to kill me, I'd feel honored to be such an important figure.” For fucks sake, I sounded just like Memori or Mimi...

It doesn't work. Bang!

Oh, they're good.

Alexa isn't one that works in dodging —unlike a particular blonde girl named Memori—, she's also a sniper. And she recognizes a good job done —thing that Memori definitely wouldn't...— Wait, don't think of her everytime??! Maybe those are things that happen when you're a competitive person and is paired with someone who enjoys remarking ‘how much better she is at everything’. But anyway, as I was saying— Bang!

“We're gonna be bad blood...” she mutters.

Her red eyes scan the place quickly, taking notes of anything she could use at her advantage and anywhere more enemies could been hiding. I should probably ask for help— Bang!

She would've been already dead if it wasn't for her quick thinking. She's been doing this practically since her birth.

I should confront them directly. Snipers usually don't have good hand-to-hand combat skills.

And with a quick and quiet running, she luckily makes it to the top of the —gladly not too tall— buildings without being shot.

She knows the green fluffy ball —that now takes the shape of a young adult probably with her same age, that wears a fancy mob-like suit that which would give off an intimidating aura if it wasn't for his puppy-like expression— allowed her to actually come closer, because he clearly isn't a normal human.

“Wow,” the puppy-looking boy speaks, “it's been a while since someone succesfully dodged my bullets.” His voice doesn't have any venom, just genuine interest. “You're good.” He smiles.

“I know I am good.” As she speaks she fires her gun. “No need to remember me.”

“If I shoot now, you cannot dodge.” The green-haired boy smiles slyly as he easily dodges the bullet. “Are you sure it's wise to keep attacking me?”

“Who said I couldn't dodge?”

“It's basic knowledge. You're so close to me that if I fire right now, you wouldn't have time to dodge.” he speaks lightly with a sing-song tone.

“Are you suggesting we chit-chat this over? Because I'm no diplomat.”

“Neither I am.” Even though his voice and overall appearance were so soft and puppy-like, the sniper in his hands right now says the contrary.

He probably isn't half bad in hand-to-hand neither. I need to be careful for any ambushes or hidden trap.

“Are you thinking about my skills right now, Alexia?”

“It's Alexa.” Oh no, this man is giving me déjà vu...

“I think Alexia sounds cuter, don't you think so?”

... Definitely déjà vu.

“Hehe, but I think Alexia suits you better, don't you think so, Ale~xia?”

Ugh, get out of my head, you fucking egocentric bitch—

“My name doesn't have anything to do with being ‘cute’. And how do you know my name?”

“Your name?” He widens his eyes —so fucking adorable—. “I thought you'd know me!”

Nope. This guy's on drugs.

“I'm Kian. K-I-A-N!” If he had a tail, it'd be swinging happily right now. “And you're Alexa. A-L-E-X-A.”

Why is he spelling the names again...?

“I asked you a question.”

“Memori is your Boss or something like that, right?”

Of course.

“You know her?”

The glimpse of sadness in his eyes disappears as quick as it appeared. “Yes.”

“What's she to you?”

“...” He seems to be struggling to find the correct words. “We- She was a close friend.”

... Is this some sort of pattern? Thinking of all the similarities...

Being unclear as fuck, acting as if everyone should know what you're talking about, being in your own world, switching personalities as a light switch, loud, child-like, asking how your name's spelled... There's definitely some patterns.

“Are you implying she hired you to kill me?”

“I'm not,” he whispers to himself. “It was just because.”

“Just because? Nobody hired you, no ‘a higher power demanded me to’? Nothing?”

He nods with apologetic eyes. “Memori seems to like you very much.”

Hell yeah she does and doesn't even try to hide it.

“You're asking why Alexa has to go with me?” She asks with a nonchalant expression. “Obviously because she's better than you all.” Her words are often impossible to understand if they're seriously or not. But it wasn't the first time that she admited a clear favoritism with Alexa.

“But Alexia, what do you man with a high—”

“Dude, did she reject you or what? You look so hopeless always talking 'bout her.”

“No?? I don't see it.”

“Ya sure?”

“Sure. She's like my sister.”

“... Really?”

“Really. She's like a black cat.”

What. Definitely no.

“Uh-huh,” I continue. “Why did you think it's a good idea to attack me?”

“Well, since Mori bullies you—”

“She doesn't.” Mori.

“—she must like you very much! And I wanted to see what it is that she likes about you so much!”

“You're nuts.”

“I'm not a nut- I'm not an aliment!”

“I know you're a real human.” He recoils just a bit when I call him a real human. “I meant you're crazy.”

“Ohh!” He has fangs. “That's what you meant!”

“Are you four or what?”

“I'm the same age as you!”

“Really? I don't think so. And how the fuck do you—”

“Ah, sorry for this,” he says as he lowers his sniper.

“No worries.” A total weirdo after another weirdo. “And where ya from? Your work, I mean. You look too fancy to be a normal sniper. Don't tell me you're a blue-blooded rich?”

“Ah, that is... Hm.”

“Very helpful,” irony fills my words. “So ya aren't a rich?”

“Ah, you could say... Kind of rich. My work pays me well.”

“Are riches becoming more and more common by the time?”

“People are getting better and better at finding suitable jobs!” He exclaims with optimism.

“I don't think Memori's your friend.”

“She's an angel! Who wouldn't be her friend?”

“An angel, you say?” She asks skeptically.

“She may be nicknamed sinner now, but I mean it as her personality—”

“She's nicknamed sinner now?! Since when?”

“Ah, between a circle of rumours,” he half-lies smoothly. “Nothing big, really. Some people simply resent her for her former job.”

“That chick was probably in some illegal trade. Tell me otherwise,” she rolls her eyes in exasperation.

“You don't know where she used to work?”

“At least me, no.” She looks at the sky. “She's a real mistery among us. Classic rich person behaviour. How delightful.”

“You don't have a very limited vocabulary!” He seems oddly excited about it. “I thought you wouldn't know words like ‘delightful’.”

“It's not a bad thing.”

“Why the hell wouldn't I.” No, this man right here? He's also a total fucker.

“Uh-huh.” Of course it is a compliment. Of course. Very obvious. Totally expected.

He suddenly grabs my hand and shakes it with both of his hands with a bright smile, but quickly stops after what seems like remembering etiquette. As if there is an etiquette for shaking hands. There isn't, right? ... Not that I would know, anyway.

A little late, no? “Alexa. Pleasure's mine. Is that what I'm supposed to reply?” I ask genuinelly this being the first decent handshake I've ever had.

“Excuse me,” he apologies with a smile as he lowers up his right-hand and looks at me expectanly.

??? What does he wants me to do?

“Uhm... What do I do?”

“Ah, nothing,” he dismisses.

Oh, a headshake.

I offer my left-hand to him. He stares at my hand, as if it was strange. Fuck, do headshakes have some etiquette I'm not aware of? “Am I doing something wrong?”

He focuses his attention back to my eyes as he accepts my headshake also with his left-hand. “It's not a big deal. Usually, handshakes are with the right-hands.”

So it does have an etiquette.

“Oh. I'm left-handed. I didn't know.”

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it.” He replies as he shakes his hand four times, completely different from how his behavior was a minute ago. “My name is Kian. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Mhm, maybe a little bit more formal, but yes,” he chuckles and nods. “You are cute. Like a mouse.”

Like a mouse. That's new.

“And you're like a dog.” It's an implied insult.

“Why, yes! I get told that often.”

“Figures.” I stare at this green-haired man with disbelief at his obliviousness.

“Welp, I need to go now.” He adds, “Boss expects me...”

Boss? So he does work for someone, huh?

“Bye-bye, Alexia! It was nice to meet you!” He waves his hands with excitement.

“... Nice to meet ya too, I guess.”

And with that, he jumps swiftly away.

Huh, what a strange man.

Randomly pick 2 OCs. Make them fight. How will it go?

[2amriize]

.ᐟ RIIZE scenario: babysitting ༉‧₊˚.

req: can u do babysitting with riize members? like babysitting a little cousin or something along the lines of that i guess? anton and eunseok with those kids makes me ☹️ it’s so cute!!!!!

pairing: bf!riize x reader —masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

Shotaro had never taken care of such a small child before. At first, he wouldn’t really know what to do and would get a little (okay, very) nervous, letting out constant nervous laughs while asking every five seconds: “What should we do now?” After watching you struggle for a while trying to get the child to stop crying, he’d step in to help. He’d start making funny faces, quickly getting the child to laugh. You were surprised by how fast he managed it and how well they seemed to get along.

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

Even though you didn’t expect it from him, Eunseok is actually really good at babysitting. It’s probably because he has a younger sibling and a lot of experience with them. You couldn’t stop staring at him every time he played with the child, carried them, or soothed them—which, for some reason, he was particularly good at.

"I thought you already knew I’m good at everything."

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

He wouldn’t stop smiling and watching the child. Every little thing the kid did would make him grin. To keep everyone entertained, you decided to bake cookies together, but Sungchan got distracted for a moment and spilled the entire mixture on the floor. You didn’t expect that, seconds later, after a brief silence, the three of you would be starting a food fight, laughing uncontrollably.

"Just so you know, you’re cleaning this up, babe," you’d whisper in Sungchan’s ear once the chaos was over.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

It would be pure chaos. Even though Wonbin finds little kids adorable, he has no idea how to interact with them. He wouldn’t know what to talk about or how to keep them entertained, but he’d keep trying new things to grab their attention, even attempting to teach them how to dance. That said, if the child started crying, you wouldn’t find him anywhere near.

"That’s all you," he’d say, pointing at you.

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

Things would start off pretty smoothly, but you knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to leave them alone. You’d only be gone for three minutes to use the bathroom, but when you returned, Seunghan and the child would have completely turned the living room upside down. Cushions and blankets would be scattered everywhere. According to Seunghan, he’d built an obstacle course to see who could complete it faster (and of course, he’d let the kid win).

⭑.ᐟ sohee

You’d spent the entire afternoon playing with the child, and it had been challenging for both of you since it was your first time babysitting. When bedtime rolled around, the child refused to go to bed no matter how much you insisted. That’s when Sohee came up with the idea to tell them a story and sing a lullaby. You were amazed at how quickly Sohee invented a tale about a princess named “y/n,” who needed to be rescued by the great knight “Sohee.”

⭑.ᐟ anton

He loves kids. In fact, he adores them, and he knows exactly how to take care of them. You, on the other hand, would feel completely lost. Even though you wanted to help out or spend some time playing with the child, they always ended up gravitating toward Anton. It wasn’t intentional, and you found it sweet to watch the two of them together, but deep down, you felt a little bad that the child kept choosing him over you. Anton noticed and told the child to go hug you and plant a kiss on your cheek while you were sitting on the couch, which completely made your night.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess

[artificiallita]

i got bit by the butch wolverine bug and trust me im in lov w her BUT have we considered futch deadpool???

(headcanons and upcoming fic snippets under the cut)

working on a big silly fanfic about this hot mess boinking logan in the odyssey. here’s some headcanons while the story finishes cooking.

- so. kept her first name as wade. i’ve seen a few alt names floating around for f!deadpool (big love for the winnies, winonas, and wandas of the ladypool extended universe) but genderfuck ‘not rlly a name’ just fits my vision for her. her parents were weird idk.

- deadpool is a woman in all variants except one in my personal headcanon. he is called dudepool. also her corresponding nicepool is male gaze-ified pre-mutation wade. she’s bleach blonde and her suit has a titty window.

- ex special forces turned mercenary whose life shit the bed when she was diagnosed with cancer. tried to be proactive about it long enough to get a mastectomy, then found out said cancer was pretty much everywhere else, and we know the story from there. since this predates her healing factor, she’s permanently single-boobed. has padding in her suit to even her out since it doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, wears big t-shirts and ignores it in her civilian life.

- bisexual disaster zone. spent many years in a very happy and deeply perverted relationship with a male stripper named van carlysle, until that went down the toilet. a solid 70% of the casual sex she has is with women.

- dresses like the shitshow nightmare we know and love, loves an awful t shirt and a pair of crocs. put little to no effort into her appearance pre-mutation and that hasn’t really changed, had a brief phase of screwing around with makeup and wigs and then decided it was basically - to use a line of internal monologue from the pending fic - rolling a turd in glitter.

- speaking of, has a real complex about the changes to the way people perceive her post-mutation, namely that they seem to find her super fucking irritating and odd in a way that they very much Didn’t when she was still conventionally hot. between her military background and the general company she keeps, she’s quite often the only woman in her circles, and has always been a dysfunctional mess of adhd and unfiltered word-vomit, but that was generally read as mpdg ‘cool girl’ behaviour prior to her transformation, and now people seem to just think she’s a lunatic. less ‘oh god im hideous’, although she *absolutely* has those moments too, more ‘oh god everyone i know has thought i was a weird pain in the ass this entire time and only tolerated me because they wanted to fuck me’

- wears a lot of poorly applied eyeliner and purposely sleeps in it because she thinks it looks cool. it does not.

- had absolutely zero plans to snitch to cassandra about johnny’s rant, right up until the ‘bald hell’ line. she took that shit personally (almost definitely didn’t need to but whatever. i support women’s wrongs.)

and some snippets from the fic, all of which are me wade objectifying logan. technically spoilers but also what else did anyone expect

[soleilapproves]

catalyst - chapter 1

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex-boyfriend. (Sukuna x reader)

Notes: fem!reader

fanfic masterlist / main masterlist

Gravel crunched underneath your sneakers as you dragged them along the pavement. You had been running around the city with tired limbs and a resume in hand, trying to get a job after getting your last rejection letter from one of the medical schools you applied to.

Thank you for expressing interest in our medical program. Upon evaluating your transcripts, credentials, and extracurriculars, we regret to inform you that you are not eligible to join this year’s class. We will gladly consider your application for next year’s class if you wish to reapply. You may contact the admissions department for questions regarding the next application cycle.

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes again. You had been crying about your future for the past week. With all the hard work that went into all those volunteering hours, internships, and research assistantships, you were sure to get in.

But no, not in the system set up in this day and age. There will always be someone more qualified and well-connected than you. And even if they aren’t, they will always benefit from nepotism. 

Your feet dragged themselves till you couldn’t take it anymore. You broke down, ass landing on the curb in front of a random convenience store in the middle of some no-name neighborhood. Tears spilled down the apples of your cheeks as they drenched your chin and neck. The sky roared, and rain began to pour down. 

You wailed harder and tried to drown out the noise by yelling curses at the sky. You thought of all the tests you studied for, all the diagrams taped up on your walls, and all the money you spent on your applications. You had spent so much time and effort preparing for medical school that you couldn’t invest in a plan B. You needed a job to fund yourself, at least until you could get back up on your feet and figure out what you wanted to do, but to your misfortune, no one was hiring.

There was nothing more agonizing than being led astray from your original path. You began to question your abilities. Maybe if you had just paid attention in that class, you’d have an A instead of an A minus, or if you had just volunteered more, you’d seem more competitive. 

But it was all useless. What’s done is done. You groaned into your pruned hands. 

Then, all of a sudden, you could hear the muffled sounds of raindrops hitting canvas. “Funny, you seem different from how he described you.” You looked up to see a white-haired figure holding an umbrella over your head. “Uraume. No last name. Please come with me.”

You looked behind the figure and saw a sleek black Range Rover with tinted windows. It looked like it didn’t belong in this neck of the woods. Great, you were rejected from almost all the vacant positions in the city, and you were about to be trafficked for the benefit of wealthy people.

“I have a mace, so get away from me,” you said while walking away, not putting away much of a fight.

“Sukuna Ryomen. I’m sure you know him,” Uraume continued. “He needs you.”

Since when did traffickers start doing background checks on their victims? Your stomach churned as you began to walk faster, trying to outrun the chalky white-haired person who was now hot on your heels. However, having not eaten all day, you barely had the energy to pick up your speed, so you pulled your phone out to call the police, which, to your misfortune, was dead. You began to sob as you slowed down, and you noticed that the Range Rover was trying to catch up with you. 

It began to slow down beside you when its window rolled down. “Hey, it’s me, Yuuji!” 

You stopped, and so did the vehicle. Yuuji, your ex-best friend’s little brother, was smiling at you. “Just hear us out.” The boy (well, now a man) said with the most sincere eyes you had ever seen. Uraume walked towards you, covering your now-drenched body with their umbrella. 

-

You couldn’t believe your eyes- the once scrawny little kid you knew was now a tall man. Yuuji’s facial features had changed significantly. His round face was replaced by sharp angles (much like his older brother’s), and he also sported a few new scars (the ones beneath both his eyes being the most noticeable as they looked identical). He walked you through everything that had happened in Sukuna’s life since you both lost touch, while Uarume guided you both through the VIP area of the city’s most prominent hospital. They also casually added that they had a private investigator look into whatever you were up to in the past month, which freaked you out. No one wonder they knew way too much about you. 

It turns out that after you two lost touch, Sukuna became a famous boxing champion. He didn’t bother getting into the details of how it happened, but as far as you know, Sukuna never really expressed any interest in it whenever you were around. Yuuji pulled his phone out to show you his latest fight- the reason why he’s so battered up. 

You winced as you watched the clip, having a hard time trusting your eyes. There were many things you didn’t know about the martial arts world, but it was still shocking that you had no idea your ex was a famous and skilled fighter. It was apparent he had a knack for getting into fights with how he’d defend you whenever a bully charged towards you or a creep so much as to even looked your way. It never occurred to you that his punches were just that precise and had less recoil because he was training to be a professional fighter.

Now, here he was, on Yuuji’s phone screen, being beaten and battered like a piece of rice cake being pounded by a human mallet. “I thought you said he was good.” You mumbled. “He is, but he’s been burnt out and has refused any kind of treatment for it.

You raised your brow as the three of you stopped in front of a large wooden door. “And I’m here because?” 

“We have tried everything. Yuuji has to return to his classes soon, and I have never been able to connect with that man emotionally enough to support him through such a tough time. Even his therapist says he’s a lost cause because he refuses to cooperate.” Uraume says as they open the wooden door to reveal a large, dark hospital room. 

It takes you a while to register what’s going on, with the only source of light being the skyscrapers visible through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows on the opposite end of the room. In the middle of the room, against the wall, was a large hospital bed with a few monitors surrounding it. In it, you could see a mop of pink hair. 

Sukuna Ryomen- professional boxer and ex-boyfriend in the flesh. The steady rise and fall of his chest told you that he was asleep. The sight led to an invisible lump forming in your throat. The last time you’d seen him in person was when you both had your biggest fight together. A shiver went down your spine as you remembered all the hurtful words you had spat at each other. In that moment, neither of you could believe you could’ve been that hostile.

You’d only ever seen him sick with a fever, and he was horrible enough to deal with during that time. You couldn’t imagine how he was feeling right now. 

“As his manager, I’d like to hire you as his… well, I’m not sure what I’d call this position, but you’ll be making sure he gets better and is up to date with all his treatments and training,” Uraume said as they took you and Yuuji out the room. 

You sighed. “You want me to be his nanny?” 

“More like a personally involved manager, but we can have Sukuna’s doctor come up with a better name. Something to do with your field of interest. Her name is Dr. Shoko Ieri, and she’ll also be sure to refer you to all the good schools in the country so you can enroll in the next session.”

You didn’t know what to focus on first- the fact that you were offered a job (albeit a nanny for an adult) or that your idol, Shoko Ieri, was ready to refer you for your next applications. You had only ever seen her present at research conferences, all while you both had a common link this entire time. You felt lightheaded- the feeling of hope finally returning after a week of non-stop anxiety fits.

“So, do we have a deal?” Uraume extended their hand. 

But then again, things aren’t so good between you and Sukuna. At least from how you see things. Your relationship with him ended on a sour note, and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you did resent him a little for simply abandoning you and never making an effort to reach out again as you did. What if you failed? What if this whole thing ends up being one giant dumpster fire? 

You hesitantly looked at the pale hand in front of you. But then again, there was no way to go from here. What would you do anyway? Your paid internships never led to any full-time positions, and you barely had any money to get by after paying your rent for the next month. You also needed to pay for all the new applications and supplementary courses for your resume. 

“You should do it. They don’t like shaking hands with people, so this is major.” Yuuji whispered in your ears.

You gulped as your heart raced. In different circumstances, you would’ve said no, but you have nothing to look forward to besides getting a part-time job, which you knew wasn’t worth it with an offer like this to compete with it. You placed your hand in Uraume’s cold ones. They quickly shook your hand and pulled away like you had the plague (“They have a small case of germophobia,” Yuuji said later).

“When do I start?” you ask.

“Immediately. Since this job requires a lot of monitoring, I’ll have a few movers get your things and take them to Sukuna’s apartment. You’ll be living with him until he gets better” 

You didn’t know how to feel at that moment, chest still tight with the uneasiness from before. What you did know for sure was that Sukuna probably wouldn't be happy seeing you so at home in his personal space. 

[applenicoshifts]

Personally, as someone who has mini shifted to these realities- and knows countless people that have shifted to a fewof these realities too, I only have to say: While its perfectly fine and GOOD to spread awareness about trauma, people don't remember that every person has different limits. I wonder; Why don't we say this about hogwart shifters? There's a freaking war going on in sixth year-seventh year? People die? What if you're friends with cedric? Or why do we only focus on those drs that are KNOWN as dangerous, but not the ones ppl don't usually know? I do agree in how it can be terrible but, let me bring an example. I have a friend who often shifts to JJK. She says, yes, it is not a nice experience to shift if you're unprepared. But, if you think you can handle it and are prepared: This reality is so worth it. The people and connections overcome anything. And yes! She has seen people die. A lot. She has exorcised curses. I myself happened to mini shift to the rumbling. And a thing I didn't mention in my post was how the smell of blood was also present. It doesn't haunt me, but it existed and I acknowledged it. It is incredibly sad some people truly get traumatised even back here (because, yeah you bring trauma back but, its genuinely relative from the person who shifts from OWN experience and FRIENDS experience.) after the things they have done or went through. But people with different moralities and different strengths can handle different things. While I am an aot shifter and a jjba shifter for example, I know bad things will happen but I also know I can handle them after what I've lived. It is NOT ok to shift to somewhere if you think you'll be genuinely hurt. The awareness spread by these posts is great! but please, lets focus on all kinds of drs--- and specially, those that are seen as less dangerous. Because mha and hp are as dangerous as aot and kny even if less shocking. Aot can be beautiful due to the people, specially with some script adjustments even if I'm a full canon shifter usually. So can KNY , so can jjba, so can jjk,and hell, so can a fame dr. Anything can be traumatic, but anything can be beautiful. Some people also go thereto heal their traumas related to what they've been through, so it makes sense they don't script out things. For example, I have a dr where my partner dies. And I've experienced that in this reality. And you'd say, I don't want to experience that shit again. But I need somewhere where I can mourn without being judged. And somewhere where I can be there for him in his last moments. That can be very taxing, but also healing. Not saying same thing about friends dying and shit, but, its always different for others and we need to remember that. I DO NOT condone literal kids going there though. No matter what they're not prepared. Nothing against OP since I think awareness is important and their trauma is valid and real. Im just using this post to share mi opinion

honestly shifting trauma is so overlooked its crazy

I agree. Like I know not a lot of shifters want to talk about how fucked shit can get but like it gets scary out there and I feel like it’s so irresponsible to pretend it’s all glitz and glamor.

Like genuinely I feel like a lot of people don’t understand just how real it is. Like obviously it’s as real as ours but it’s a really difficult thing to fully comprehend until you’ve actually done it. I worry so much for people shifting to places like Attack on Titan. Like are you prepared to see your friends get eaten alive in front of you. “Oh I knew that they were gonna die so I’ll be fine” these are real people you’re going to be in close proximity with you’re most likely going to get attached to in some capacity and even if you’re not it’s difficult to watch people die in front of you. And that goes for anywhere with any kind of violence. In Demon Slayer I almost threw up hearing and smelling demons, humans being devoured, etc. and it’s going to stick with me forever. I might not always think about it but when I do it fucks with me. The violence I’ve been forced to commit on other people because my life was on the line in most of my DRs fucks with me too.

I feel like we should talk about it more and we just don’t and it’s really upsetting cuz now I feel like I’m crazy for being so shaken about it, or being devastated by a friend’s death. Why should I feel weird for not being over the fact I was fucking strangled. Idk it just upset me that everyone wants to act like it’s got no flaws

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 19

Masterlist Shortly after Danny and the boys had left everyone gathered in the cave. Those who hadn’t known about the Phantom/Danny situation were filled in so they could discuss what they’d learned that night as well as summon Phantom to tell him what they’d found. Dick was listening intently. Despite reading the files shortly before their company arrived, Dick wanted to be sure he had all the facts.

“So,” Steph frowned. “We’ve got a ghost king who’s claiming a branch of the American government called the GIW has been trying to experiment on and kill his people, a law called the Anti-Ecto-Acts which means it’s legal for them to do said experimenting and killing, and Danny who supposedly knows the ghost king and is affected by the law that makes him legal property of the government?”

Bruce nodded. “We are still trying to understand Danny’s connection to all of this and how it is that he’s affected by this law- as far as we can tell he’s entirely human. We aren’t sure how he would have come into contact with enough ectoplasm to deem him a ‘ghost’ but-”

Jason cleared his throat, effectively cutting Bruce off and silencing everyone in the cave. “I… may have left out… some details.”

“Oh no,” Tim cuts in. “Tell me you didn’t know.”

“Know what?” Bruce sighed, already clearly tired of this back and forth.

Tim crossed his arms and glared at Jason. “That Danny’s died before?”

That set everyone off. Dick himself didn’t know what to do with that information. He’d watched all night as Jason smiled at Danny, thinking no one would notice, and then he’d watched as Jason scolded the family for prying (he was right to do that they could obviously see Danny didn’t want to answer their questions) and chased after Danny when Santiago had dragged him off. They’d spent a lot of time outside before coming back in and everybody could tell something had changed. 

They were both more relaxed, stood slightly closer together, their eyes lingered on each other when they thought no one was looking, and Jason was actually laughing along with the family! It had been a long time since he’d seen little wing so happy and he wasn’t ashamed to admit; he’d gotten emotional about it. He didn’t want to think anything was up with Danny, he wanted to imagine Danny had a nice normal life, a good family, and a personality that would bring some happiness and normality to Jason’s life.

“What do you mean, Tim?” Bruce asked, cutting through all the other raised voices.

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “When Kon came over he- well he wanted to see if Danny was hiding anything on his person. I’d filled him in a bit about the situation and he’s heard me trying to figure out what Danny’s deal is for a while now so he used a bit of X-ray vision and that’s why he dropped the pie. ‘Cause Danny’s got an autopsy scar.”

The cave was silent, everyone that’d been looking at Tim promptly looked towards Jason, waiting for an explanation. Jason swallowed visibly. “I… didn’t know that.”

“That he died or that he had an autopsy scar? ‘Cause it sounds like he’s got a lot more scars than that, Kon was… Kon said he’s only seen scarring that bad on people like us- vigilantes.” Tim pointed out.

Jason sighed, sitting a ways away from the family- a habit he’d picked up after coming back and needed to physically distance himself from them when he got overwhelmed. Dick had always hated how far his brother kept himself from them, tucking himself away behind an immovable wall, keeping his real feelings and thoughts blocked off, for his and their protection.

But instead of remaining apart, staying at the table he’d first sat at- that they’d all avoided in order to give him space- Jason stood and moved closer, closing the circle the family had formed. “I’m friends with Danny in and out of the mask.” He started, crossing his arms to protect himself from the closeness. “He’s told Jason some things and he’s told Hood some things and I…. didn’t feel right telling you all of it.”

“We need to know everything you know about him Jay-”

“No. You don’t.” Jason says firmly. “I will tell you what I’m comfortable telling you and then we can summon Phantom. Maybe he will tell you more, maybe he won’t. Maybe if you show up at his apartment in your tall, dark, and gloomy costume he’ll tell you what you want to know- but I’m not telling you everything he told me in confidence just to satisfy your curiosity. Didn’t you learn anything from dinner tonight?”

And- yeah, that was fair. They hadn’t been as nice to Danny as they should have, and while it was obvious in hindsight that they’d backed him into a corner, Dick really had just wanted to get to know the man. Danny was an enigma. Someone who’d befriended Damian, who’d brought down Jay’s walls, who’d expressed interest in Tim and his life, Danny was a good guy. Dick wanted to know everything he could about that man.

Bruce sighed, relenting, and Jason started talking. “I don’t know about the scarring. I do know he… died a long time ago.” The room tensed, Dick tensed. “He came back different- like me. But not- not like me. He was confused when I asked about Pit rage stuff. After coming back he did the whole teenage vigilante for a while to protect his town. He gave that stuff up a while back, traveled for a while, and ended up in Gotham.”

“Do you know who asked him to come here?” Tim interjected, getting the room's attention. “He said he was here as a favor. He said a friend asked him to come to Gotham and help out and that’s why he’s here. Do you think it was Phantom?”

Jason shrugged. “Phantom said they knew each other, he’s the ghost king and Danny was an undead kid vigilante who fought ghosts to protect his town. It’s possible I guess.” 

Tim had returned to the batcomputer, typing quickly and looking for something specific. Dick noticed Jason’s hand was shaking, clinging to his bicep in an effort to stop it and keep people from noticing, but Dick saw it. He was no Bruce- certainly no Tim- but he was a good ass detective and he noticed a lot more than some people thought. Especially when it came to the emotional state of his family members.

(Call it being an empath, call it a trauma response to Bruce’s emotional constipation his whole life, whatever, Dick could read emotions in others almost as well as Cass could read body language. He couldn’t always interpret exactly what it meant, but he noticed the little things. Jason’s hands shake he’s angry- usually when he’s pit ragey.)

Clapping his hands together, Dick tried to bring the mood up a bit. “Well, should we all change and get ready to summon Phantom? Where better to get our answers than directly from the horse’s mouth?”

“And then he asked Jason on a date!” Santiago finished.

“Come onnnnn.” Miguel groaned, smacking his head against the headrest dramatically. 

Danny wasn’t sure why Miguel seemed so upset by this news or why Santiago was so happy about it but he tried not to think about it too much as he pulled the car onto their street and felt a pulling in his gut.

“I don’t know what you see in him, Danny-” Danny felt Miguel’s eyes on him as he cut off. “What’s wrong?”

Concentrating on staying where he was and getting the boys home safely, Danny began to sweat. He could refuse the summoning if he wanted, push it away entirely and get rid of the sickening tug, but he really needed to figure out what Hood had gotten done concerning the GIW. So instead of outright refusing, he delayed, speeding up the car. “‘M getting summoned.” He managed, turning another corner sharply.

“Now?!” Santi shrieked as the car took one more sharp turn into their parking lot and came to a sudden halt.

Shutting off the car and hopping out, Danny gestured for them to follow. “Come on, quickly.” The tugging in his gut was starting to hurt and he wondered why he hadn’t just given Hood his Phantom number the last time they’d spoken. Tucker made you a Phantom phone specifically for this purpose! 

Once he’d ensured the boys were in their apartment safely, he allowed his transformation and the summoning to sweep over him. Relief washed over him as he felt his body be swept away before settling into a dark cave. Looking around, he found computers, weapons, vigilante gear- was he in the Batman lair?

“It’s called the Batcave.” Hood snorted. “Hey Spooks, mind turning down the light show?”

Oh, right. Letting the bright light that appeared every summoning, Danny floated closer to the ground and took note of all the vigilantes around him. He hadn’t exactly expected… well, all of Gotham’s vigilantes to be there during his next summoning. “Anything for you, Hood.” He winked towards the crime lord, earning him a scoff from Robin. 

“King Phantom-”

“Just Phantom.” Danny cut Batman off- Ancients he interrupted Batman. “I’m not really into the whole formality thing.”

Batman dipped his head subtly. “Phantom, Hood informed us of your situation and to say I was shocked was an understatement. I have a meeting with the Justice League scheduled for tomorrow to relay everything we know and figure out a plan to repeal the Anti-Ecto-Acts as quickly as possible.”

Danny nodded slowly. “I must admit, I’m surprised at how quickly you’ve acted. Nevertheless, I and my people extend our gratitude.”

“Why wouldn’t we act quickly?” Nightwing asked.

Pursing his lips, Danny crossed his arms. “Batman is paranoid, untrusting, and hates metas in his city unless they’re Signal.” He pointed at the yellow hero lazily. “And technically? Ghosts aren’t even metas, we’re other. Different. Wrong. Wasn’t sure how you’d all feel about that.”

“Batman would never allow such crimes to continue!” Robin snarled.

Danny’s lips quirked up, he liked Robin, despite the kid's snark. It was part of the appeal really, he had strong opinions and wasn’t afraid to share them. He’d quite enjoyed sassing his rogues throughout his vigilante career.

“Robin.” Batman scolded.

Shrugging, Danny leaned back, still floating, hands behind his head. “I don’t mind, I like a kid who speaks his mind. But how would I know that? I’ve never met Batman before. I must do what’s best for my people.” He frowned, losing a bit of the lazy look and growing more serious. “Keeping them confined to the Realms is no longer the best course of action. And unfortunately, Scarecrow’s little stunt the other night has lit a fire under my ass so to speak.”

“Language.” A couple of the vigilantes chimed in, almost like it was a habit.

Danny frowned. Hadn’t he just heard that-

“Why has Scarecrow’s attack moved things up?” Spoiler asked.

How much did he want to tell these people? For now, he wanted his identity to remain a secret, too risky to reveal himself, but he wanted the GIW gone and for that he’d need to be as honest as possible. “Danny Nightingale,” he started, catching the shift in the cave’s atmosphere. “Is a… personal friend of mine. He’s been in hiding from the GIW for five years now. The attack has unfortunately… alerted the GIW and others to his location.”

“What reason does Danny Nightingale have for hiding from the GIW?” Batman asked.

Had… Had Hood really not told them? He knew Hood was a good guy, but to keep private the things Danny had shared with Hood even after everything that had happened… It warmed his cold heart. “Hood… did not tell you?”

Red Hood crossed his arms. 

“Danny died when he was fourteen.” Phantom tried for nonchalance. He hated talking about it- all ghosts did- but he didn’t want them to know he was uncomfortable. “He was brought back to life when, during his death, his body was flooded with ectoplasm. His body was killed and brought back until neither side won and he ended up half dead half alive.” He let that sink in.

“How the fuck-”

“That’s not poss-”

“Nightingale-”

“Enough.” Batman stated. Once everyone quieted down a bit, he turned to Phantom. “How is that possible?”

Phantom had touched down to the ground at this point, standing between Red Hood and Signal. He shrugged. “I don’t really know, it just is. The… electricity killed him but the ectoplasm kept him alive and afterward he remained alive and dead at the same time. Schrodinger’s boy if you will.”

“You know Shcrodinger?” Signal breathed, not really asking Phantom but more himself.

Phantom intended to answer the question, maybe with a joke or maybe just plainly, but he was stopped in his tracks by Red Robin’s next question.

“But what about his autopsy scars?” Red Robin said seemingly before he could stop himself.

Danny’s head whipped in his direction. “What?” He snarled.

Red Robin glanced at Batman, swallowed, and looked back at Phantom. “Um- a- a friend of mine- superboy, he accidentally used his X-ray vision and he… saw…” He trailed off, possibly noticing Phantom’s less than friendly air. 

He’d risen again, floating a couple inches off the ground and crossing his arms to hide the shaking in his hands. Maybe if he… if he told them… they’d understand just how bad the GIW was. The final nail in the coffin. He’d met a lot of these vigilantes before, they seemed nice enough, besides, how long did he really think he could hide the truth from them? As long as they didn’t know he was Danny, as long as Danny didn’t have to look them in the eye and pretend he didn’t know they knew, it’d be fine.

“It is not an autopsy scar.” Phantom managed to say.

Red Robin frowned. “But he said it was-”

“It is NOT an autopsy scar.” He said, pressing his eyes shut tight, voice commanding. Waiting for his rage to settle a moment, he continued. “It is a testament to how far the GIW will go to get what they want.” He looked each vigilante in the eye (sort of), waiting for it to sink in. “Autopsies happen after you’ve died. I assure you,” He inhaled sharply. “Danny was very much alive- and awake- when that happened.”

“What the fuck.” Red Robin breathed. Phantom waited, unsure of what was about to happen. Red Hood was frozen, his toxic ectoplasm signature flared as his fingers stretched for his guns.

Spoiler gasped. “That’s fucking-”

“Vivisection.” Robin finished coldly.

Everyone’s reactions were similar; anger, despair, confusion. Batman pinched the bridge of his nose, Robin lowered his katana, jaw dropped slightly, Red Robin was clearly having some kind of inner war, Signal and Spoiler looked between each other and Black Bat who had been staring at Phantom since he’d arrived, and Nightwing- was he crying? It was subtle, barely noticeable, but Danny was sure he heard a sniffle from the man’s direction.

“When-” Batman growled, clearing his throat. “When did this happen?”

Phantom considered him. Why did it matter? They couldn’t go back and make it unhappen. “Shortly before his eighteenth birthday.” That was all he needed to say. So why did he find himself continuing? Saying more than necessary? “He was discovered by some local ghost hunters, drugged, restrained, and experimented on for-” he caught his breath, hesitating only a moment, but Black Bat seemed to catch it. “For almost two months. The-”

“FUCK!” 

The group startled as something shattered across the cave. Startled, Danny turned to Hood who’d grabbed the nearest thing and thrown it across the room- hitting a glass window around what seemed to be a med bay. The man breathed heavily, his toxic ecto-signature continued to rise. 

“Hood-” Batman started.

Phantom cut him off. “Hood. Relax, Danny’s fine.” He pushed as much Safe-Protected-Healed-Calm-Relax into his words as he could and it seemed to work, the man’s shoulder untensed a bit and his hands stopped resting on his guns. Phantom could feel everyone’s eyes on him but he didn’t want Hood to feel them so he continued. “I’m not going to let anything happen to him, and if you lot do your job right, the GIW won’t be able to try anything ever again.”

It was touching that Hood was angry on Danny’s behalf, but he didn’t need it- not really. He wasn’t as naive as he’d been five years ago- wouldn’t let anyone close enough to trick him again. He’d warded the apartment he lived in heavily, no one with ecto-weapons could get inside, he’d warded it against specific people as well- Jack and Maddie, the GIW agents he knew of, Vlad, the list went on. 

“Who were the ghost hunters?” Red Robin asked, typing on the batcomputer furiously.

Danny wanted to be mad about the question (how dare he ask about them, the people who’d ruined him, who’d  taken all his trust and cradled it close to their chest with loving smiles only to crush it under their boot and cut into it and-) but it effectively took everyone’s attention away from Hood, allowing the man to calm down without anyone staring at him. Phantom closed his eyes and took a deep breath before admitting to a truth he’d run from for years. “His parents.”

~~~~~

Damian was having a good night overall. He’d invited Nightingale- well, the Nightingale’s, he supposed, over and got to spend a great deal of time with Miguel and Santiago. Santiago was a bit younger than Damian and  they didn’t have much in common, but the boy's love of animals allowed them to maintain conversation throughout the night. Todd had been acting strange throughout dinner and in the barn, but Damian had shrugged it off, it was Todd after all. He was fine.

Later in the night Drake’s paramour was also acting strange but Damian did not care. He’d enjoyed showing Miguel and Santiago around his home, introducing them to his animals, and talking with them extensively about the concept of vigilantes, heroes, and anti-heroes. 

When they’d all been called into the cave and he’d been filled in on the conversation with Nightingale at the dinner table, he’d felt confident that Phantom would be able to answer their questions. Nightingale had an aversion to talking about his past before Gotham, specifically his hometown and his parents, and while Todd made an excellent point about all of them having complicated relationships with parents, it made them all curious about what could have caused Nightingale’s complicated relationship with his parents.

After all, it was unlikely his parents were assassins, or circus performers who’d been murdered, or a supervillain, or had sold him out to the Joker who killed him so-

“His parents.”

Okay so the likelihood that his parents were in fact supervillains and had sold him to someone evil was actually very high. Throughout the entire conversation Damian had felt his blood pressure rising. Nightingale was one of the few respectable people he’d met since moving to Gotham. He was intelligent, kind, good with animals and kids, and respected those around him.

Who in their right mind would hurt Nightingale intentionally? He heard his sentiment echoed around the room as his family processed what exactly Phantom had just admitted. Drake’s incessant tapping on the keyboard had stopped, his jaw clenched tight in a way that mirrored father’s expression. And yet, despite how upset everyone looked- Richard’s expression made him wonder if the man might be crying- Cassandra looked sadder than them all.

Her ability to read body language was one he’d long coveted, but in that moment he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Phantom’s body language was saying. 

“You can look, but you’re unlikely to find anything about them.” Phantom continued. “I’ve had my best people wipe anything about Danny’s hometown from the internet. They built his new identity and he is here under my protection.”

“So you are the friend who asked Danny to come to Gotham and help out?” Brown asked.

Phantom gave a strained smile. “As a matter of fact, I am not. Danny does whatever he wants, I simply… gave him a new identity to do so. Not that I did the hard work, Technus and a friend of Danny’s did that.”

Damian wanted to know everything about Nightingale. He didn’t want to know anything about Nightingale. Two sides of his desire warred inside him. His desire to know everything about everyone at all times fought his side that wanted to believe someone as kind as Nightingale had never suffered such hardships.

He knew that sentiment was childish, he wasn’t a child, but why must every kind person he meet go through unimaginable pain? 

“We must bring his parents to justice.” Damian gritted out.

Phantom gave him a sad look. “Unfortunately, everything that both his parents and the GIW did, are completely legal. Due to Danny’s death he both produces and consumes ectoplasm. Until the Anti-Ecto-Acts are repealed and Ectoplasmic beings are protected, nothing can be done.”

“But once we do, we must bring his parents to justice. Who are they? What are their names?” Damian demanded.

Giving the same sad smile, Phantom shook his head. “Until the Acts are overturned and protection is given to all ectoplasmic beings I will not be giving out that information.” Damian started to speak but Phantom spoke over him. “I really must be going- I was in the middle of something when you called. If you give me your phone Hood, I can give you my direct line instead of my summoning line.”

Todd, who’d calmed down from his earlier tantrum, handed his phone over immediately and watched as Phantom typed in his number presumably.

“If you have more questions, message me.” He directed to Batman, handing Hood’s phone back. “And if you ever need something handsome, call me.” He winked before a swirling green portal opened behind him and he sank back into it as it swallowed him.

Once the portal had disappeared, Damian looked to his father who was deep in thought. Typically the entire family would start talking, petering, asking questions, all at once, but for once, they were all quiet, waiting for Batman to say something.

“I have a meeting with the Justice League tomorrow, we will discuss all of this including what we’ve learned tonight. Hood, if you wouldn’t mind giving me Phantom’s number so I can invite him to the meeting, I would appreciate it.” Father moved towards the computer where Drake was still working. “I want everything you can find on Daniel Nightingale’s original identity, where he’s from, his parents, everything.”

“B, I’ve been working on this for months I can’t-”

“Red Robin.” Father spoke lowly. “Do what you can. I want tabs kept on Danny Nightingale at all times, we have no way of knowing how fast the GIW will work to get him back. No one goes alone, we patrol in pairs until this is sorted, understood?”

Everyone nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Damian had to agree with their sentiment. He had no desire to be held back from patrolling his own route solo but knew there was no getting around his father’s paranoia. 

“Uh- I work alone.” Thomas said, raising his hand uncomfortably.

Batman considered this for a moment. “Check ins with Oracle every fifteen minutes- no exceptions.” 

Thomas sighed, nodding in agreement. “Yeah okay.”

“Father, this is ridiculous. Surely the GIW is not such a danger to us?” Damian understood caution, but this was a bit much- bordering on how he behaved when Joker was loose.

“Actually-” Todd scratched the back of his head, his helmet held under his arm. “Technically a lot of us probably fall under the GIW guidelines. I definitely do with the whole ‘dead then not’ thing, and you and Cass grew up around the pits- it’s pretty likely we all have a bit of an ecto signature or whatever.”

Father grunted. “Patrol in teams. Check ins every fifteen minutes. Do not approach unknown’s alone. Understood?”

“Yes, father.” Damian replied emotionlessly.

He’d find whoever had done this to Nightingale and he’d make them pay for it.

~~~

“Miguel? Santi? I’m back!”

Danny had portalled back to his apartment, changed into comfier clothes, and made the short trip across the hall to the boys’ apartment. They’d given him permission after the incident with their bio dad to walk into the apartment without knocking but he still made sure to announce himself when he did.

Something in the apartment was different though- colder- and dread settled in his stomach when he received no response.

“Boys?” He turned the corner into the living room. “I’m ho-”

“Oh hey, Danny, you look young- it’s like looking into a mirror. Ten years ago.”

Prev. Next

[sheerfreesia007]

Love Postage

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Word count: 1,986

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: You’re used to traveling a lot for your career and would often buy Minho souvenirs from the places that you travel too. But what happens when you find a new way to show him that you’re thinking of him on your travels? And what happens when he displays those gestures proudly in his apartment?

Jagi: Sweetheart

Walking through the departure gate of your flight you enter the Cairo International Airport and take in a deep breath of air, after being on your flight for hours you were more than happy to finally be off of it and able to stretch your legs and breathe in fresh air. You’re traveling on a work trip for a project that has been months in the making and a project that you were not only spearheading for your company but also very passionate about. You were helping the start up of the Egyptian branch of your company and couldn’t wait to see all of your hard work come to fruition, this would now be your third time in Egypt and you were finally becoming comfortable with the country and the area that the new branch would be in.

As you walked through the airport towards the exit where you knew your counterpart here would be waiting for you, something brightly colored caught your eye in one of the little shops in the airport. Turning towards it you saw a tall spinning rack full of postcards with different scenes of Egypt on them. You grinned softly as you spotted one with a zoomed in picture of a camel. But you gasped softly when you found one with a picture of the three pyramids at sunset and a duo of camels in front. You quickly plucked the postcard from the rack and brought it to the register to pay for it knowing that your boyfriend Minho would love it.

Ever since you started dating Minho almost a year ago you had formed the habit of picking him up little souvenirs from all the places that you would travel to for work. It was your way of showing him that you were thinking about him on your travels and always wanting to show him that you cared. But recently you started noticing that his collection of souvenirs was becoming too big for him to store comfortably so you had figured that you would have to find a new way of showing him that you were thinking about him. As you paid for the postcard you thought maybe this would be an easier way for him to see that you cared and thought about him while you were away.

*-*-*-*

Two days later and half way through your work trip you were met with some down time that you were able to spend going sight seeing around the city. You had managed to tour the pyramids for a few hours before returning to your hotel room where you would need to get ready for dinner with the employees for the Egyptian branch. Laying back on your hotel bed you grabbed your phone and sent Minho a text asking if he was free for a video call. When you quickly received a response you couldn’t help but smile at his eagerness before your phone began to ring.

“Jagi!” he cried happily as his face appeared on your screen and you beamed happily at him.

“Hello my love.” you cooed at him and he bashfully smiled at your greeting just as Jisung could be heard in the background calling out for you.

“Hi Jagi!” Jisung called out and you laughed as Minho rolled his eyes at his best friend.

“She’s my Jagi, not yours.” he scolded Jisung who butted his way into the video screen causing you to laugh at the two of them as they bickered back and forth.

“I miss you. Both of you but mostly Minho.” you told them around your laughter and the two men settled together with their faces pressed together as they watched you on the screen.

“Are you having a good trip Jagi? Are you eating well?” Minho asked curiously as his eyes darted around the screen.

“No, ask her if she’s seen any of the tourist sights there.” Jisung argued and you grinned at the two of them

“I am eating well, I have a dinner that I have to get ready for a little bit. But I wanted to call you and tell you about the Pyramid tour that I went on today.” you told the both of them fondly. “It was so amazing being able to walk through some of the pyramids! It’s cramped in there in certain places but other parts of the pyramids opens up and you’re able to walk at full height.” you explain to them and they nod their heads along to your words. “I can’t wait to bring you here with me Minho.” you say wistfully and he grins lovingly at you at your words.

“When your company has the opening ceremony for the new branch, I will make sure that I can come with you. I’ll clear it with the company and we can go visit the Pyramids together.” he promises you and you blow him a kiss which makes his ear tint pink with delight.

“I would love that. How are you doing? Are you able to relax or are you all super busy with work?” you ask worriedly and Minho shakes his head at your questions.

“We’re okay Jagi. No need to worry about us.” Minho tells you fondly as he smiles softly at your worry.

“Alright, I have to start getting ready for dinner. I’ll send you a picture of my outfit before I go, okay?” you tell them and Minho nods while smiling at you. “I love and miss you Minho.” you say softly to him with a dreamy smile and he blushes heavily at your confession while Jisung makes kissy faces at you before pouting. “Love and miss you too Jisung.” you say teasingly while rolling your eyes as the man cheers and exits the screen with a holler as Minho scowls at him. “But I love you most Minho.” you say sweetly and he grins at you sweetly.

“Love and miss you too Jagi.” he tells you before hanging up on the call. As you get up from the bed you spot the plastic bag from the airport that holds your postcard in it and you grin widely. Moving to the desk in the corner you take the postcard out of the bag and grab the hotel pen that they provide. You think for a moment before you put the pen to the postcard and start writing out a lovely letter to Minho. When done you grin down at the postcard and make plans to have it mailed out before you leave for dinner.

*-*-*-*

The next time you see Minho it’s after your work trip and you’ve returned home, he invited you to his apartment for dinner to welcome you home and you gladly accepted. When you arrive he’s in the kitchen cooking already as you let yourself into his shared apartment with Jisung. You walk into the kitchen and wrap your arms around him behind as you press your body flush to his back humming softly as your lips graze his neck gently.

”Hello, my love.” You coo at him and he chuckles softly as he melts back into you while still stirring the food in the pot on the stove.

”Hello, Jagi.” He responds fondly to you. “Dinner will be ready shortly.” He says softly before turning his head and pressing a kiss to your temple. You breathe him in with a quiet hum as you squeeze him a little tighter in your arms. “You alright?” He asks quietly and you nod your head before resting your forehead on his shoulder.

”Just missed you.” You say softly and he pats your crossed hands on his stomach.

”I miss you too Jagi.” He tells you and you smile fondly at him before kissing his clothed shoulder and then let him go.

”I’m going to go put my overnight bag in your bedroom. Then I’ll be back and set the table.” You tell him and he nods at you before you slip out of the kitchen and head to where you had dropped your overnight bag. As you pass the desk resting against the wall near the living room you spot Minho’s cork board that he always pins important things to and something catches your eye. You halt your movement and turn to the cork board before a wide smile blossoms on your face, there in the middle of the cork board is your postcard from Egypt pinned as if it was the most important thing on that board and you feel your heart thud heavily in your chest with love for the man.

After putting your bag in his bedroom and returning to the kitchen you can’t help but to tease the sweet man. You walk up to him as he stands at the stove and press a quick kiss to his cheek which makes him jolt in surprise before turning to you with slightly tinted ears and wide eyes. You chuckle at his reaction and he clears his throat to try and distract himself from your gesture.

”What was that for?” He asked curiously and you grin at him.

”You put my silly little postcard up in the middle of your important cork board.” You tease him gently and he scoffs softly at you as he continues to cook. You figure he won’t respond to you so you turn to the cabinets and begin to pull out bowls and silverware for the two of you.

”Of course I put it in the middle. It’s the most important thing on that board.” He tells you honestly and you whip your head to stare at him with wide eyes. He smirks at your reaction before explaining more. “I loved your postcard. It made my heart race when I received it in the mail. And then when I read all your wants of bringing me to Egypt with you to show me all the sights that you’ve come to love already, it made my heart feel as if it was there in Egypt with you. Like I was already there sharing those experiences with you.” He admits. “Whenever I pass the board and see your postcard there I’m reminded of my reaction to receiving it and it’s like I’m receiving it all over again. It’s a reminder of how you think about me and love me even when you’re countries away. I love that reminder.” He said honestly and you beam happily at him before setting the bowls and silverware down. He turns to you hurriedly already knowing your plan of attack as you near him quickly. He wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you close before his lips fall against yours lovingly. “I absolutely adore you and the love you hold for me is something I hope to never lose.” He confesses softly against your lips and you hum at him.

”You never will, my love. You’re mine and I’m yours for however long we deem fit.” You tell him.

”And if I want forever?” He asks breathlessly as his eyes search your own.

”Then I will give you forever.” You whisper against his lips before pressing yours against his lovingly. He sighs softly against you before the two of you fall into your kiss.

*-*-*-*

Over the years the postcard was swapped with different ones from different countries that you traveled to for work telling Minho about the sights that you would like to take him to. But as the postcards were swapped for new ones soon pictures of the two of you in each country at different tourist sights started to appear on the important board. Some pictures even featured an excited Jisung as well. Soon the important cork board turned into a cork board filled with love and while Minho had originally planned for it to be filled with important things that he would have to keep track of he was perfectly fine with its new evolution.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

[kooksvspogues]

Happy 1st Birthday Lilian!! 🥳

Part 4 -

Authors note: Let me know if y’all are enjoying the slow burn with this story or have any suggestions! Would love some more input from y’all ❤️❤️❤️

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

~~~~~ Drew’s POV ~~~~~

I know I told her I didn’t want anything more than to just be friends, but how could I not want more. The connection we had the night at the wedding was something I’ve never experienced before. She is something I’ve never experienced before. I thought I could handle being around her and keeping our deal, and I think I could’ve if Austin never showed this much interest in her. The way he talked about her when she was walking into the pool with my niece; “look at the ass on that girl, holy shit, and those boobs, jaaackpooot” he grinned putting up both his fist waiting for Chase and I to bump his, to which I just gave him a stern stare while Chase nonchalantly bumped his fist, trying to send a text.

“You know girls aren’t just a piece of ass, right?” I stared at him

“Well yeah, but it makes it so much better when they have one, ya know why I’m talking about Drew” he winks at me

“That’s my sisters friend, don’t do anything stupid” I plead

“I won’t do anything she isn’t about” Austin tapped my shoulder before getting up and joining Mack and Maddie in the pool.

I couldn’t help the pit that was forming in my stomach or the rage and adrenaline I was feeling in my entire body. I watched as she smiled up at him, but not the same way she smiles at me. She kept trying to keep her distance with him no matter what he tried, and for that, I was grateful.

Austin snatching her up before anybody could say anything to be his partner for beer pong, now that hurt. Beer pong was how we met at the wedding. She stepped up to be my partner since my buddy Paul had stepped away and she ended up being the best partner I’ve ever had in beer pong, plus, she was nice to look at too.

She had done changed out of her bridesmaid dress and into a short light yellow dress and had ditched her heels. Her curled dark brown hair was falling around her shoulders, and for some weird reason, all I could think of was the Disney princess, Belle. When I found out her name was Maddie and put it together that she was my sister’s roommate in college, I couldn’t help but me intrigued. I had heard so many stories and felt like I knew her personally but this was the first time we have been in the same area at the same time.

We won every round of beer pong we did. We laughed and flirted with each other like it was the most normal thing we’ve ever done. When we finally got done playing, we went upstairs to where the balcony was. I had untucked and unbuttoned my shirt to where it was just hanging, leaving the undershirt revealed. I sat down, leaned against the paneling,before pulling her down to sit in between my legs and lean back against my chest. Opening the bottle of champagne we snatched on the way up. That was the most comfortable I had ever been. We sat there for hours just talking about everything, what we wanted out of life, where we wanted to be in 10 years, family, kids, kid name ideas, dream vacations, just anything that come up while we just sat there playing with each others hands and passing the bottle back and fourth with the other. At one point she turned sideways and put her legs over mine while one of her hand planted itself on the wood behind us causing her to face me.

“You really are not what I expected” she admitted

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that, love” I teased smiling

“Just that, I have seen pictures of you, but just didn’t really expect you to be this hot in person, plus the fact that you’re insanely amazing at conversation.” She admits, her face turning a light shade of red when she makes eye contact with me

“I could say the same thing about you” I smile before leaning in closer to her, looking back and forth from her eyes to her lips. I reached up and placed my hand on the side of her neck, my thumb against her jaw just as our lips met.

“You are so beautiful” I whisper to her, feeling her smile against my lips, as she pulls her legs back to her before turning completely and straddling me, reconnecting our lips immediately.

The kiss was so deep, tender, gentle, rough, everything you could ever want in a kiss. What felt like would never end got cut short the moment I started kissing down her neck. She tapped my chest making me pull back and look up at her.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, your Mack’s brother” she says starting to stand up

“Maddie..” I say grabbing her hand

“No, let’s just pretend it didn’t happen, okay? For Mack?” She begs and I just nod slightly, watching as she takes a deep breath before running back downstairs.

Now I’ve had to watch Austin’s hand on the small of her back, lifting her up, her almost naked body against his, his hand so close to her ass and his face so close to her chest, then for him to have the audacity to place his hand on her leg right next to me.

I couldn’t do it, I can’t watch this, I can’t let her get away this time. I just need to make sure she still feels something on her end towards me before I do anything else. Which is why my feet quickly sped upstairs to her once Mack came back outside, telling everyone I had to run to the bathroom.

But, yet again, she ran away. But she also didn’t deny still feeling anything. Just gonna take some time to break through that wall, and I’m willing to do whatever I got to do.

~~~~~ Maddie’s POV ~~~~~

I walk into the downstairs bathroom, closing and locking the door quietly. Fanning my eyes, trying to keep myself from crying, but I fail quickly at that, feeling a tear fall from both eyes. I place my hands on the counter and look at myself in the mirror.

“I got this, it’s just a week of being around him, I can make that, I’m here for Lilian and Mack, that’s it” I whisper to myself before looking down at the floor shaking my head. I wipe the few tears away, open the door, and head back outside when I see Drew coming down the stairs.

“Maddie” he says

“Drew” I say opening the back door slightly

“Wait” he says just as I open the door completely and walk out “or not” I hear him mumble before walking out behind me, keeping the door cracked just incase Lilian wakes up.

Everyone else was back in the pool so I went to the edge and just sat down putting my feet in the water. A few minutes later, Drew walks over with two bottles of beer, offering one to me.

“Truce?” He asks as I look up at him

“…truce” I say grabbing the bottle as he goes to sit down next to me.

“I’m sorry” he whispers as we watch the rest of the groups playing beer pong

“It’s okay, I get it, that night was great, neither one of us can deny that, but me and you in any way, just can’t happen” I whisper to him

“Can I ask why?” He asks looking over at me with curious eyes

“Me and Mack made a promise, both of us have brothers, we knew at some point we’d meet them, and we promised that family, especially brothers were off limits cause we never wanted to jeopardize our friendship in any way” I explain quietly as he nods biting his lip, looking down at her hands right next to each other.

“I get that.. but is that real—“ He starts but I cut him off when I see Austin swimming over to us grabbing my legs, rubbing his thumb against them

“Hey gorgeous” he smiles up at me as I smile down at him slightly, “want to come be my partner again?” He asks me

“Nah, I’m good right here, I’ve done dried off” I say

“Oh okay, well if you change your mind, I’ll be waiting for you” he winked before getting called back over for his turn.

“Is that really gonna be a thing?” Drew asks looking over at me

“I don’t know… he’s sweet.. we’ll see” I confess

“Please don’t jump into something with him” he pleads

“I’ll be okay” I smile over at him

“I know, but still..” he says locking eyes with me as we just stare at each other.

“Why aren’t you looking away?” He asks me smirking

“Oh shut up” I say smiling, pushing him away making him laugh

“You can’t do that” he says in a warning tone

“Do what?” I ask furrowing my eyebrows

“Look at me like that” he states

“Like what?” I curiously ask

“Like you want me to just lean over and kiss you like we did their wedding night, like we’re the only two people that are here” he quietly explains keeping his eyes locked with mine

“Are you ever gonna give that up?” I tease him knocking my shoulder into his

“Not a chance sweetheart” he winks at me making me shake my head.

“You’re a headache” I laugh

“Just a man trying to be your headache, my bad” he throws his arms up laughing making me roll my eyes playfully

I catch Mack and Garrett in the corner of my eye looking over at us before whispering something to each other. I clear my throat and jerk the huge smile off my face looking over at the group of boys playing beer pong.

Me and Mack lock eyes and she has her arms crossed, an eyebrow raised, with a slight smirk on her face. I raise my eyebrows at her in curiosity and she just shakes her head, still smirking before looking away from me.

Great…

Chase and Austin end up leaving not too long after they got done with playing beer pong. Of course, Austin couldn’t leave without planting a kiss on my cheek. Which made me feel more weird than anything.

“Mack, can I stay here, I’m too drunk to drive home” Logan says a lot louder then needed as he wrapped his around around me planting his chin on the top of my head

“Yeah, that’s fine, Drew you staying here too?” Mack’s asked

“Yeah, might as well” he says

“Okay, y’all can take the other guest bedroom till mom gets here if you want or one can stay on the couch and the other in the bed, y’all choose.” Mack tells them, “you know where everything is, me and Garrett are going to bed” she said giving all of us a hug, “do you need anything before I go to bed?” She asks me when we she pulls away

“Oh no, I’m good, thank you though” I smile at her as she gives me a look that I can’t decipher before walking upstairs.

“Mads, can I just sleep with you, I want cuddles” Logan begs

“Why don’t you go cuddle with your brother” I tease

“That’s weird” he said making me and Drew laugh

“Here, let’s get you to bed” Drew says taking Logan’s arms off me before walking him to the guest room. I go to the fridge and grab a bottle of water before heading for the stairs.

“Hey, goodnight” Drew says at the door. I turn to face him, giving him a smile

“Goodnight Starkey” I say before going up the stairs and into my room.

I decide to go ahead and get a quick shower, wash off all of the stress from today. When I get out, I throw on a big shirt and crawl into bed. Leaning over to turn the lamp off is when I notice a note sitting on the nightstand. I grab it off the table to read it,

Maddie,

I know you say that we can’t happen and all I know as of right now is because of Mack. But, at any point you’re ready to give it a shot, I’ll be waiting, cause I’m not giving up on you. There’s nothing in me that will allow me to. Just give in to what we both know you’re feeling.

Text me - ###-###-####,

Drew

I can’t help but smile but also know deep down I can’t give in completely. Not yet. But I do decide to go ahead and add his number to my contacts, deciding to go ahead and text him so he has my number too, just incase something ever happens and he needs it.

“Goodnight again Starkey” I text him and roll over to get comfortable.

“Goodnight beautiful, glad to finally have your number” he texts me back.

I shake my head, deciding to leave it at that for right now, closing my eyes and letting the alcohol take over and hopefully giving me a good nights rest.

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

Tag list: @percysley @dilfs-4life

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Story Synopsis: 

R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of ‘loved em and left em’ behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. A common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime? Chapter I // Chapter II // Special Edition

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson finds himself in New York for work and gets distracted by an old friend. Warnings: toxic relationship, possessiveness, profanity, usage of the n-word (if you’re white and read it, you owe us $20), manipulation – if we missed anything, let us know! Word Count: 4.1k Divider Template: @cafekitsune Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

There will be alternating POVs between our leads.

Chapter III: Fade Away

the chatter at her weekly brunch with friends was distracting. sloane lennox glared down at her phone as if it was the reason she was so pissed. jamani back on? what a terrible title for an article. what a horrible idea for jameson. imani st. cirie was everything that jameson didn't need. he was irresponsible, childishly demanding, and easily distracted. he was an artist with an artist's temperament. from what she knew of imani, the woman was the same. they just weren't a good couple. anyone could see that. she didn't get why jameson couldn't.

sloane! we're out of champagne!

"am i your mother? do you need permission? just order another bottle." sloane snapped, rolling her eyes as she continued to scroll.

she got to the images -- proof that jameson was sniffing around his ex. this was bullshit. sloane closed out of the site, scrolling her contact list and finding jameson's name. it rang in her ear, her agitation increasing the longer it went on. his smooth baritone was nowhere to be heard. the phone beeped, indicating she should leave a message so sloane simply hung up.

she stewed in her agitation, forcing herself not to call again. this was critical. jamie couldn't be pushed. if she told him to do something, he went the other way. this was going to take some finesse but sloane knew she was up to it. she had loved jameson since the first time she saw him. she knew him better than anybody

fifteen years old and shy, sloane hadn't made friends easily. only one gravitated towards her: genie adesanya. genie took sloane under her wing, welcoming her into her life with ease. it was because of genie that she'd met jameson. he had been seventeen and practically genie's stepbrother. handsome, and he knew it, jamie had charmed sloane. he'd been flirtatious but never inappropriate. eventually it settled into him cracking jokes and playing protector with she and genie. for two whole years, jamie had been hers. her friend, her protector, her crush. it all changed when he released his first album.

then he belonged to the world. jamie became james lucas. the crooning falsetto that she'd known intimately had finally been heard by the world. jamie's career took off then. sloane never had a chance to make him hers fully. her crush lay dormant, unfulfilled, while he dated his way through hollywood. models, actresses, singers. they came and went. sloane always remained. he eventually left them but he never left her.

sloane had finally gotten up the nerve to tell him how she felt in 2020 -- the same night he met imani st. cirie. she watched him walk into another woman's life but knew it wouldn't last. it never did. three years later, sloane had gotten nervous. jameson rarely lasted a year with a woman and there he was celebrating three with imani. it had practically driven her insane...but then they had broken up. she'd been so relieved that she didn't bother hiding her joy from anybody who'd listen. it caused the destruction of her friendship with genie -- but jameson remained.

he jumped into another relationship and just like clockwork -- it ended before a full year was up. sloane decided not to watch anymore. 2024 was her time with him. he had to see for himself that she was the one and only constant in his life. the only woman he could rely on.

the phone vibrated in her hand and sloane peered down at the screen with a smile. jamie was calling. now all she had to do was...shift his perspective.

it had been years since jameson was inside the moma. he spent many afternoons sitting in front of claude monet's lillies canvas when he was trying to establish a career on broadway. it felt good to return to his old stomping grounds -- this time from special invitation.

sloane had fussed and pouted until he promised to stop by and see her after his gq interview. he was jetlagged after flying to new york the day before and only planned to have a short visit before collapsing into the expansive bed in his suite.

it had been so long since he saw her face to face that he had been successfully guilted into making the time. texts and calls here and there filled the void in their friendship but it always felt better to see her in person. twelve years after they'd met, sloane was different. at twenty-seven, she'd grown up like they all had. she was an art dealer, smart as hell and sophisticated. glasses had been replaced by contact lenses. hasty ponytails had been swapped for expertly styled hair. converse sneakers turned into muaddi heels. but no matter what, she was still the girl who was trying to find her place.

he waited for her on the first floor, hands braced behind his back as he watched bustling crowds of people behind his sunglasses. several slowed to peer at him and jameson easily avoided eye contact. he didn't mind being a celebrity but he was too tired to be charming.

"jamie!" he heard called out and turned to see sloane heading his way. she wore a bright smile, expensive clothes, and heels that he was sure cost as much as her outfit. jameson quickly moved towards her, not letting her pull him into a hug. he turned her around with his hand to the small of her back and quickly walked her up the stairs. "what are you doing?" sloane laughed and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure they weren't followed.

"why'd you tell me meet you at the front door? hella people were down there. i don't feel like signing shit today." jameson fussed, not surprised that she laughed louder. sloane did what she wanted when she wanted.

"i'm sorry." she said softly, grasping his bicep as they moved to the second floor. there were still crowds there but they were much more interested in the art than they were in him. "i'm glad you came." sloane continued. "i missed you."

"i missed you too." jameson grumbled, walking along the floor with her. "we both live in cali though. why'd i have to fly to new york to see you if that was the case?"

sloane quirked a brow at him. "you tell me. last i heard, you were working on album, completely locked in, but then i find out you got time to get imani back?"

he scoffed, shaking his head but not denying the accusation. he had seen the same article and didn't give a damn about it. he didn't feel he needed to explain himself to sloane either. "you called me here to talk about my ex?"

"of course not." sloane told him. "i called you here to talk about me. my favorite subject." she let his arm go, framing her face with her own hands and jameson couldn't help but laugh. "i didn't know you'd be out here anyway until you mentioned the interview. i just wanted to see my friend. make sure he's okay. you know?"

"i'm fine." he told her, stopping in front of a painting and peering down at the brunette by his side. confiding in sloane wasn't strange. he told her and ej everything -- even shit he didn't tell genie anymore. "me and mani aren't back together. she's thinking about giving me another chance."

"i'm happy for you, jamie." she said softly. "but..." "but what?" "it didn't work the first time..." "because of me. i fucked up." "even so. love shouldn't be hard. you and imani? your love is hard." "but worth it. i love her." "i know you do. and you should. she's a wonderful girl. but what about you?" "what about me?" "you're an incredible man. exceptional. singular in every way. i think you deserve to be happy. you shouldn't have to make yourself small to make it work." "that's not what's happening with imani." "no?" sloane questioned. "what is she doing to make sure you guys have another chance? is she reassuring you? is she talking to you? it takes two to be in love."

jameson was quiet for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. no, imani didn't seem to be enthusiastic about their chances of trying again but could he blame her? "you don't understand, lo. i...i cheated. when we broke up? i cheated. it's my fault."

he watched as her eyes go wide with the information and she lapsed into silence. it didn't last long though. she stepped closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist as they stood together. "that doesn't change the fact that you're a good man. so you made a mistake. anybody who knows you knows that you're good."

her constant belief in and support of him was invaluable. jameson wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged him briefly. "thank you for saying that. but anything she says or does to me, i deserve it. and i'm going to take it -- if it means we can start over."

sloane gave him a brief nod of her head and leaned her body against his. "i understand. i still don't think she's right for you. you need someone to believe in you. i think too much has happened between you and imani. i don't know if she's that woman for you anymore."

he hoped like hell sloane was wrong. imani was the only woman he'd genuinely loved. his selfishness had robbed him of love and he was feeling the consequences heavily. she walked ahead, pulling him with her and jameson went -- his mind on imani and if he was fooling himself by thinking they were going to get it right the second time around.

"c'mon. let me buy you lunch. i made reservations at gramercy tavern." sloane told him sweetly as she wrapped both arms around him, stilling his movement. "i didn't mean to upset you. i just want what's best for you."

jameson peered down at her to say no, to make his excuses. he was exhausted and wanted to sleep but one look at her pouting face -- and he couldn't do anything but laugh. "i know you do. let's go eat now. i'm tired." he said softly, pressing a kiss to her head and wrapping his arm around her shoulder before leading her down the grand staircase.

with a kiss to her head and a brief hug, jameson had left her outside the st. regis hotel. as she made her way upstairs, her phone pinged yet again in her purse and she ignored the sound until she crossed the threshold of her suite. once she was comfortable, she unlocked her phone and stretched across the couch.

[ e. ricardo ] : he's not here yet [ e. ricardo ] : if this is bullshit, i'm going to write my next column about you and you won't like the details i give [ e. ricardo ] : he's in place. my photographer is there. [ e. ricardo ] : snapped you two. how cute. [ e. ricardo ] : where are you going with him? [ e. ricardo ] : hello?? my photographer lost you two on 53rd st

sloane sighed, deleting all the texts from her phone. calling the paps wasn't out of the unusual for her but this one was a pushy bastard. she did it when she worked with particularly high profile clients and when she just wanted her name circling with people who could boost her career. but she had never called them about jamie. ernest had practically salivated at the idea of getting exclusive pictures of jameson doing anything. even if it was just a lunch date with a friend.

she pushed call on the contact, listening to it ring. when he answered, sloane didn't bother acting friendly. "are the pics good?"

ernest quickly reassured her they were. he even offered to send them to her but she quickly denied. the less proof they had of a connection to one another, the better. she told him she wanted them up online before the next morning and he obliged before they ended the call. the pictures weren't scandalous but she knew it'd shake imani. cheating boyfriend in another city with pretty friend? wrapping his arms around her? she knew it'd do something to the other woman.

was it a move that could backfire on her? yes. imani could decide to fight for jameson but sloane was okay with that. she had decided to fight for him -- why not have a worthy opponent? she knew jameson would be asleep soon. he probably wouldn't see them when they were posted. even if he had, she could always pretend to be just as dismayed as him. she'd even take to social media to help clear up any rumors.

the pretty, kind hearted friend of james lucas. the classy girl that people would make people say "well why isn't he with her?". that was going to be her new image. and she knew it'd change if those pictures looked as cozy as it felt being with him. suddenly, people would wonder about them. he would wonder about them. all she needed was for that switch to flip in his mind.

sloane rose from the couch and went to run herself a bath. she ignored the buzzing of her phone for the next few hours -- realizing the article had clearly come out. now she had to be careful if she was going to make this happen. jameson would never forgive her if he knew she was going to do her best to stop a reunion with imani.

the familiar ringtone echoed throughout the room and jameson smiled in his sleep. it was the song he'd written for imani. he played it as the ringtone anytime she called. it'd been so long since he heard it playing from his phone. imani didn't call him anymore. he called her. he texted her.

still -- he could hear it and it stirred him from sleep. jameson stretched across the bed, sitting up in the darkened bedroom. he fumbled across the bed, reaching for his phone. by the time he snatched it up, the ringing had stopped. he could see the time on his screensaver and blinked the sleep from his eyes. it was six in the morning...which meant it was around noon for her in italy. they had exchanged texts since she'd been gone. it had only been three days but he had missed her deeply.

seeing he had two missed calls from imani made him frown. he wanted to hear her voice. he unlocked his phone to call her back but then the text came through. he opened it -- thinking it was more of cute and humorous conversation they'd been having for the past few days.

[ mani ]: i don’t know what type of bitch you take me for, but a stupid one, you know i’m not that. i told you no more bullshit so why i’m seeing pictures of you cuddled up with sloane at the fuckin moma? like i said i’m not a dumb bitch. you want to cuddle up with her, then be with her. i’m done.

jameson read the text twice, confusion making his brows furrow. "what the fuck?" he muttered to himself. it felt like somebody had put his ass in the blender and he was all mixed up. he immediately tried to call imani. no ringing. straight to voicemail. he'd been blocked by her enough to know the hallmarks of it. "fuck!" he cursed angrily, pulling the phone from his ear to send her a text that he knew she wouldn't see.

baby, i don't know what fuck you're talking about. ain't no bullshit with me and her. you know that. call me back.

he waited a few minutes but with no response, jameson climbed out of bed as he clicked his way through social media. it wasn't hard to find the 'just in' and tmz articles complete with computers. he and sloane talking. he and sloane laughing. he and sloane hugging. the kiss to her head. jameson groaned. actions he thought of as friendly definitely looked like something more. even he could admit that. reading the comments would do him no good but he saw that each had thousands.

even his instagram had an influx of activity. people commenting on pictures from months ago. even sloane had issued a statement of sorts where she asked people not to speculate about her personal life. this was bad. and he knew there was only one move he could make now.

he scrolled through his contact list and looked for genie's number. it rang -- a sign that she hadn't blocked him -- but she didn't answer. jameson left a terse message, telling her to call him back before he hung up and called ej.

sloane had played her part well. she'd been shocked and aghast. properly outraged on behalf of her famous friend. she scrolled through the comments with relish. for every one that called jameson cheating scum, there were two that said they looked cute together. for every comment that said imani deserved better, there were two asking what sloane's instagram was.

she had posted to her story, demanding an apology for the invasion of privacy and ensured that she named jameson as her 'close friend' -- nothing more, nothing less. that was enough to set speculation off once more. not the conversation wasn't just about "jamani" -- it was about imani, jameson, and sloane.

just as she was about to scroll more comments, a call came through on her phone. genie's name flashed across her screen and she froze before answering it. the two girls hadn't spoken in a year. sloane's opposition to imani had put her on the wrong side of genie. for some reason, genie had chosen imani over her and sloane never forgot it.

still, she answered the phone with a kind, curious tone -- interested in what her former friend could possibly have to say.

"are you sleeping with jameson?" genie asked abruptly and sloane laughed. no hello. no how are you? no fake bullshit. she got right to the shit and sloane knew she had to handle the other woman carefully.

"are you out of your mind?" "that's not an answer." "genie, you know jamie and i aren't like that." "no. but i know you want to be."

sloane frowned, annoyed at the fact that genie would so bluntly state the facts. she couldn't have genie running around telling anybody that. especially jameson. not before she could fully get imani out of the picture.

"that was a stupid crush, genie. and it's cruel of you to bring it up. jamie and i have a real friendship and you know that. or you would if you hadn't cut me off for imani." sloane disputed, pleased when genie didn't say anything for a minute.

"he loves imani, sloane." "but does she truly still love him?" "that's for them to figure out." "i don't think it's hard to decide if you love someone or not." "that is for them to figure out, sloane. you cannot get involved." "i'm not involved. he's my friend and i'm going to protect my friend. just like you're doing now." "it's not protecting him if people think you guys are fucking. if you care about jamie, help him."" that's exactly what i'm doing."

sloane hung up the phone, taking a deep breath as she tried to regain her composure. she wasn't wrong. jameson and imani were too ill matched to make it work. she was just helping him face that fact. the sooner he did, the better it would be for him.

"yerrrrrrr" ej answered the phone unseriously, already knowing why jameson was calling. he had seen the articles and the posts. he'd seen the comments and wondered -- was his best friend holding out on him? jameson and genie and sloane had a shared childhood that ej didn't quite get. but he didn't try very hard to understand. he didn't really care.

"mani blocked me. i need you to call her for me."

ej snorted, shaking his head. "nah." he heard his best friend sigh loudly, frustration covering every inch of the sound. "i don't want to get cursed out by proxy. it did look like something was up with you and sloane."

"it's not! at least call her then click me in on the call."

he could hear in jameson's tone that he meant it. there was nothing happening with sloane. that was good. sloane was a pretty girl but ej could tell that if jameson broke her heart, she'd never recover. she'd never be able to give him what he got from being with imani. what that was...only jameson knew. still...ej denied him. "that'll be a hell nah."

"ellington, i swear to god..." "nigga done forgot his manners and everything, that's crazy." "mani is about to walk away from me for good. and you not gone help me?" "calm your ass down. you said nothing happened so that's one point in your favor. just...gimme a minute. i'll call you back."" i'm serious, man. i gotta -- " "i know, bruh. just...trust me. give me ten minutes."

reluctantly, jameson agreed. it took ej five minutes to calm him down. he had to promise to call back within ten minutes. ej went down his contact list and landed on the only one without a name. she simply had glasses, needle and thread, and a purple heart emoji where her name should be. it was foolish but it summed up their relationship pretty well.

she answered within three rings and ej smiled as he stretched across his bed. "ms adesanya. how you doing?" ej heard her sigh and knew she was already annoyed with him. good.

"let me guess. jameson told you to call?" "how'd you guess?" "she doesn't want to talk to him." "i figured. i had to give it a shot tho. that's my boy." "tell your boy to stop cuddling with bitches in public." "oh, she's a bitch? i thought you and sloane were cool." "we were. then we weren't." "shame. i remember when yall were the three musketeers. you, her, and jameson." "was there anything else you needed, ellington?" "yes, imogen. i'd like you to convince imani to let jameson explain."" i'll take it under consideration. anything else?" "yeah. are you in la? let's grab a drink. we gotta figure out how to help our dumb ass friends." "i'm out of the country. we'll be back next week." "we? you in spain with imani?" "not spain. italy. we're in rome." "oooh. yeah yeah. i remember now. rome. hotel...the fancy place with the birds and the steps." "what? there are no stairs outside here." "yes, there are. they're on the east side of the hotel." "ellington, there are no stairs here." "baby, i googled the hotel. it's hotel danieli, ain't it?" "he told you wrong. we're at the st. regis rome." "ohhhhhh. oh shit. that was somebody else i was thinking of. well -- we should get a drink when you're back. our best friends stress us out. let's relax together." "um...okay. sure."

he could hear the confusion in her voice and ellington grinned, knowing that he had agitated her into telling him what hotel they were at. he'd always thought genie adesanya was gorgeous. everything was beautiful about her. her grace, her kindness. even the way she got her damn nails down. nothing but pure elegance. she stood on the fringes of his friendship with jameson. they never truly got to know one another. so he settled for being the annoying friend of a friend.

over the years, he'd periodically pop in, send her an annoying text, and then pop right back out. she probably didn't even know he liked her and ej wanted to keep it that way. friend groups mixing were messy -- clearly evidenced by the newest round of bullshit with imani and jameson. he was content to tease and provoke genie until she furrowed her pretty eyebrows. that would have to be enough.

once he got her off the phone, ej called jameson back -- two minutes before the ten minute deadline was up. he knew his friend was close to a crashout and figured the only way to stop it was for him to get active. a phone call wasn't going to get it.

"get your ass on a plane, fix it, and then get back before the weekend is over. we got shit to do."

[eponymous-rose]

Some (many) thoughts on Arcane s2 while it's still fresh in my mind:

(tw: discussion of fictional depictions of suicide)

I'm gonna do some nitpicking here, but only because I really did like it overall - I think for me s1 was a solid 10/10 and this season was an 8.5/10, so I'm certainly looking forward to rewatching it! The animation was a big step up from s1's incredible work, the music was great, the performances were fantastic. I do think the overall writing/story fell down a bit, though.

It's weird, because my go-to when character arcs feel rushed is to want more episodes, but I don't think that necessarily would have solved my issues with this season.

Cait turned on Ambessa on a dime - we love to see it, but I think we maybe needed a few more overt hints of her discomfort with her position, maybe a sense of wrongness in their adoptive relationship and some parallels with Jinx & Silco given what Vi says early on ("why are you the one acting like her?"). Ambessa believes her daughter to be lost, and Cait has lost a mother - they were certainly playing on that substitution, but the eventual turn, while fun, felt a bit quick and unearned. I saw someone joke about the word "Cupcake" flipping Cait back like a sleeper agent, but that's kinda how abrupt things felt.

I think Mel's plot largely hung together okay, although it was pretty disconnected from everyone except Ambessa - would've loved to have seen some acknowledgement that Cait was filling her shoes as Daughter for a while there.

Isha was sweet and I liked the parallels with the Powder-Vi relationship (LOVED Jinx running with the pink chalk and Isha with the blue), but I think the sacrifice metaphor got a little muddled. The parallels with Powder charging in and killing everyone around her, versus Isha charging in and saving everyone but herself felt a little forced and I struggled to see how they served the greater narrative. The whole point of Powder's failure was a messy combination of bad luck, overcompensating for what she perceived as a lack of confidence in her, etc. Isha had Jinx's confidence on her side, I guess, and now of course we have the foreshadowing of Jinx dying to save someone else, which she's been trying to do since Act II.

Suicide was a pretty heavy concept throughout the first season. We had the parallels of Jayce and Viktor, we had the little-remarked-upon moment where Viktor hesitates before cutting the wire on Jinx's bomb. I actually think this season did pretty well with those two (although I'll talk about a couple things that irked me below), but the concept that we can't escape the things that we've done and we instead have to find salvation in those around us felt kind of contrary to Jinx's finally finding a way to die for her sister. I don't know that Jinx's story was necessarily supposed to feel satisfying or complete, but without another season there's not much to dig through there.

And that brings up the main reason I don't think more episodes would have resolved my quibbles with this season: it was pretty prone to overexplaining. To me, one of the most exceptional things about that first season was how little it explained. You had these gorgeous, evocative flashes of Vander trying to kill Silco, Silco stabbing him and fleeing into the night, and that's all we needed! That's it! We didn't need to know the specifics, we didn't need more backstory than that - the whole point of the season was that these kids are trying to make their own stories, and these guys have set the stage and are in the process of bowing out. Much as I loved the glimpses this season into the past generation's adventures, it felt like it was pinning something down that was more effectively left to the imagination.

There were also some weird fumbles with discussions of disability, especially in that last episode. I loved so much of what season one did with it - the older generation of Zaunites almost all had some form of disability due to the way they'd been systematically poisoned and their constant exposure to danger, and that was a really in-your-face way to challenge the early "why can't we all get along" stuff. And so much of Viktor's and Jayce's arcs are tied in with the sense of time running out and how Heimerdinger's long-term goals are incompatible with helping the people suffering right now. But instead we get this weird "you didn't like your imperfections so you tried to eliminate all imperfections", which doesn't quite ring true.

We just fundamentally didn't get to a resolution that I think was heavily implied, especially in Act II. "No one in power is innocent" is a great, raw line, but we didn't really see it play out. Instead, we have everyone stopping from othering each other in order to band together against an even bigger Other. As a side note, I don't think that Sevika's ending is meant to be a positive thing - we see from the skeptical looks of others that she's got a long road ahead. The revolution we saw coming just sort of fizzled out, and I think it's still on the horizon, which makes things feel incomplete.

There were also a lot of notes that repeated instead of echoing or harmonizing. We had variations on the theme of Vander dying three different times. We had Vi being unable to kill her sister several times. The repetition felt a bit like it was filling time instead of moving things forward the way s1's plot kept pushing.

This season is also the first time I felt the hand of League of Legends Canon shoving the plot into place. We knew Vi was heading for that enforcer uniform, but after the initial conflict it sometimes felt more like we just unlocked a new skin for the character. The Vander-as-Warwick stuff was kind of silly and out of left field, although it was executed pretty well and certainly pulled at the ol' heartstrings. Ekko getting his time abilities was fun and impacted the final fight, but I feel like we were missing something there as well that I'm having a harder time putting my finger on. Some of Viktor's lines felt designed to make the League players in the audience go "HE SAID THE THING". And I hate the feeling of setting up the Next Installment in the Cinematic Universe, probably just because I'm exhausted with Marvel stuff - I'd love for an adaptation like this to be able to really and truly stand on its own.

Overall, it just felt less like the characters were driving the story and more like they were ticking off boxes, which is just something that any good finale has to contend with one way or another.

Anyway, that's a lot of nitpicking. Fundamentally, this felt almost like it was a really strong fic that did a surprisingly good job of wrapping everything up and was stunningly put together in places... but still lacked the spark of the original.

Stuff I loved: Vi/Cait getting a pretty strong arc and certainly the first lesbian sex scene I've ever seen in a TV-14 cartoon. Animation and score was stunning. I did love the what-if of episode 7 - something I've been waiting for them to acknowledge is that literally everything that happens in the show follows from that one break-in during episode one. I actually think Vi and Jinx's reunion and reconciliation felt earned.

I'm curious how I'll feel on subsequent rewatches - the first time I watched s1, I remember being blown away but not in a "this is the best thing ever" way, and it wasn't until the second time that it really clicked for me.

[laswells-ashtray]

It's me yet again. I need me some slightly tipsy Kate and John in a lighthearted sparring match while her wife and Nik stand off to the side and gossip about their respective partners. (Again, take your time. Don't burn yourself out )

Now, because I can't describe movement for shit. I'm an internal dialogue like the Green Goblin voice or a banter typa muppet this interaction will mostly be between Nik and Laswell's wife. and I'm using my interpretation of her whom I have called Sarah if only because typing out Laswell's wife so many times makes the words stop looking real

"I cannot see this going well in the long run." Sarah Laswell, very proud wife of a certain Kate Laswell. It's not often she sees Kate get tipsy in front of anyone who isn't her, she'll indulge in a drink or two but never to the extent of this. However, it'd be dumb to assume that combining Kate, John and alcohol that Nikolai, bless that man, was paying for would lead them anywhere else.

"And yet you make no move to stop it." Nikolai doesn't bother pretending that he isn't amused, it's deeply humorous to watch two of the most fierce people he knows spar each other.

"Neither do you, don't think I can't see you staring at his ass."

"You haven't stopped looking at your wife's chest since she took off her jacket."

Okay, they're both deviants.

John is in what are probably his nicest jeans, not very suitable to a lot of movement given that they must've been painted onto his arse.

Kate is wearing a dark blue tank top that Sarah bought her absentmindedly last week and for the briefest moment, she considers just dragging Kate to the nearest closet and hoping it's soundproof.

The two move in such fluid ways that it's clear they've sparred together before. Even with a few drinks in both of them, it's the most gracious violence she's ever seen.

When John narrowly avoids Kate's elbow to the face Nikolai does little more than chuckle, he clearly isn't worried about his partner and he enjoys the smug grin on the other man's face.

"Tempted to video this." Sarah mutters, watching them both in awe. Even if her main reason for watching was to shamelessly admire her wife in all her glory, she can't deny how impressive Kate is. She throws a hit with enough force that Sarah almost pities John and she takes an equal hit with such little care. God, if there was to be a walking advertisement for lesbianism it would be Kate Laswell.

"That would involve taking your eyes off of them."

"Nevermind."

Nikolai understands, he truly does. His three favourite Johns are fucked senseless John, John when he's asleep and purring against Nik's chest like a cat and John when he's fighting just for the fun of it. Watching his biceps flex, testing the tight stitching around the sleeve of his t-shirt is a damn near biblical fucking experience.

Maybe the greatest bit of their little sparring match is how happy the two look to be there, throwing hits at each other while simultaneously muttering their banter in a way that neither Nikolai nor Sarah can hear. Carefree for once in their lives, it's no secret that their jobs weigh down on the both of them and to see them in a position so laid back, it's endearing.

"Those the socks Kate bought him for his birthday last year?"

"Да."

"Thought so, I picked them out."

"I assumed so."

"What gave it away?"

"The word cock printed on the soles." Sue her, she thought it was funny and given the expression on Nikolai's face so did he.

She watches John swipe out Kate's legs from under her and feels pride settle in her chest when the other woman immediately pulls the Englishman down with her.

She spares Nikolai a knowing glance, it would appear the both of them are going to be enjoying their nights when they head home.

Kate moves so quickly that Sarah can't help but think of one of their cats back home as she pins John to the mat, their sparring might be lighthearted but she wouldn't make the mistake of thinking Kate would let herself move.

Her muscles are taut as she holds the struggling Englishman in place, her back arched and a downright gleeful smirk on her face. Strands of hair fall into her line of vision, fallen loose from her typical bun and they frame her face in a way that can only be described as angelic. If angels were the single most fuckable woman that Sarah has ever interacted with in her entire fucking life, Jesus Christ.

As much as John is losing, he does so proudly. Who better to lose to than Kate of all people. And Nikolai isn't complaining, John's t-shirt is riding up and he's offered the perfect view of the happy trail he has every intention of running his face over later.

Their little sparring match comes to an end, with both participants walking over to their respective partners before heading to grab their shoes and the jackets that had been dumped carelessly on the floor.

It's only when Nikolai catches the two sharing a look that he realises they've been played. Kate and John are both too smart to start a friendly spar for no reason. And it isn't a coincidence that both Sarah and he are desperate to drag their partners away for the night.

They were putting on a show. Sly bastards.

[ren-144p]

Seconding started with a pin with my whole chest!! That one is SO dear to my heart. Below a few personal favorites to add to the list. Please mind the tags on these :) As mentioned, early Zaundads fandom skewed dark and messy.

the last drop / what was and wasn’t and silco and vander / tales of a knife by revelisms

Last Chance by Blue_Daddys_Girl

There's only one way their story ends, Silco knows. Yet still in their last moment alone together—their first in so many years—he offers Vander one last chance.

it is snowdown by zevlore

It is Snowdown in the undercity, and the snow is soft and grey and slushy, and she is uncomfortable in her skin. Four vignettes into Vander's life.

hit count by ducky (conscious_mess)

An attempt to flesh out their backstory. (Relationship breakdown drabble that got out of hand. Still counts as drabble because they "become sodden by movement through muddy water", so ~nnnyehh~)

Silt Verses by JeanLuciferGohard

Pump 47 is failing. It’s water to their waists now, slick with Fissure-filth and sucking grime. Vander huffs shakily, squinting up the mineshaft like anyone’s coming. “Never thought it’d be like this.” Silco barks a raw, ugly laugh, head lolling back against the rock. “That was always your problem,” he says, “lack of vision.” You learn a lot about a man when you're both about to die underground. Or: Faith is a young man's game. Silco's old before his time. Character Study.

For enjoyers of more light-hearted things, I remember having a great time with these:

Warmth by BiCaptain

The worst part came when her dads came face to face with each other.

The Fluffiest Little Murder Boyfriend uwu by Fiddlezips

Silco is a Yordle. He stands just taller than Vander's thighs, which is a generous comparison. His fur is short, fluffy around his long ears, and grey beneath the dirt. “Zaun Gray” is how he describes it, and his small mouth twitches into a smirk each time.

And for those looking for Zaundads of more smutty variety:

Cage Match by Zkyfall

Life since Silco moved out has been Hell for Vander. Trying to juggle his job with suddenly being primary caregiver for the girls, all while wrestling with the guilt that maybe the separation is all his fault. The stress is killing him and he doesn’t even have his favorite go-to outlet: fantastic sex with Silco. When Vander sees an ad for an app-controlled cock cage, he's intrigued. Finally a way he can get his submission fix, even without his favorite Dom! What could possibly go wrong?

To break new ground by Rimeko

“Now,” Silco adds, “I don’t want your apologies, but I do want your dick. So can we do just that, or do I have to fucking gag you too?” Ahem. Reconciliation sex? Zaundads bingo event: Edging

i'm breakin' a sweat (i think i need some ventilation) by zevlore

“You,” Silco pants, practically gasping for air as Vander continues his assault on his exposed collarbone, hands deftly sliding the rest of his and Silco’s clothes off, “are insatiable.” Silco's been spending too much time working. Vander convinces him to take a break, among other things.

Locked by IAmANonnieMouse (and the following Denied and Freed)

Vander isn’t that strong. If left unchecked, he’s selfish and insatiable, unable to think of anything but his own pleasure. That’s why he needs someone like Silco to keep him in check. To lock him away and throw away the key.

Useless by Fiddlezips

Silco is used to disappointment. After all, his plans—whenever they involve Vander even a little—do have a tendency to fall through.

Unfortunately back in the day I was not utilizing AO3's bookmarks nearly enough so I know I am missing a ton of good ones. New folks should absolutely go out and explore the Silco/Vander tag on their own because I remember there were a lot of incredible fics around these past few years!

Either way, happy reading! It's nice to see the ship getting traction again :)

Anybody want to create a quick quintessential Zaundads fanfic rec list?

I was away for a long time between seasons, so I probably missed a ton but those are some of the longer/meatier ones I remember, particularly one of the more fix-it category.

While the World Turns Around by Blue_Daddys_Girl

In a chance meeting Vander sees Silco for the first time since the fateful day he's come to regret so deeply. Silco has changed—they both have. Vander can't stop thinking about him.

Reconciliation AU by Rimeko

If the cannery scene went down differently, if Vander got thrown into Stillwater with Vi instead of (maybe) dying, and if Silco eventually got them both freed. What, then? What to do with the ruins of what once was? How to deal with love and betrayal and everything that went down in the meantime, and how to move forward.

Stillwater Marriage by Alishatheninth

AU in which Vander does not insist on having one last pipe, therefore gets out of Benzo's shop before Silco has Deckard kill all the Enforcers. Vander decides there's really little to be lost by simply handing the reins to Silco. Silco has to deal with a slightly different set of challenges, and does so in his own, slightly deranged, way.

started with a pin by bloodinthewine

Silco doesn’t expect to find anything extraordinary when he accompanies his daughter to her first Pride parade. Vander, an infamous and experienced leather daddy, finds him anyway. (or The Leather Daddy AU) 

And just some personal favorites of mine that I remember:

underground utopia dynasties and dystopia by leonshardt, which I think is the original prostitute!Silco stories.

Old Griefs and Childrens Faiths by GoddessofRoyalty, an A/B/O story which always made me hope for a parent!trap style story where Powder tries to reunite Silco and Vander

There are some mores that I love, including some smut ones, but everybody please mind that season 1 Zaundad fandom often skewed more dark, messy and angsty.

Anybody else have any favorites? Any other popular fics I missed? If somebody was joining late, what would you recommend to them?

[disheveledtranquility]

A little Eddie whump character analysis deep dive.

And defending symbrock while I'm at it and why I think movie Eddie was actually well thought out as a character and not just because "the stereotypical macho blonde asshole would not have been popular."

I'm exhausted so hopefully I didn't mess up the details too bad. Been a while since I read the comics.

Sprinkle in some of my ADHD so expect a bit of rambling. I added some gifs because I do love a picture book.

It's canon that Eddie Brock was abused by his father growing up. And the abuse was mostly emotional, lack of love, and lack of concern.

And gentle reminder that not everyone handles trauma the same, no matter which kind, and I feel like the way they wrote Eddie for the movies showcases another side to that trauma versus the comics. There's so many little details that even if it's just Tom being the amazing actor that he is portraying that side and not actually having those details written for him, it's still amazing.

Because Eddie's father was cold and emotionless after he lost his wife during childbirth. And of course Eddie tried everything to gain that love, just to be constantly subpar and never good enough for even a second glance.

After an accident involving drunk driving where Eddie hit a child, their relationship only got worse. And later in the comics, he disowns Eddie completely after he loses his job.

The movie version of Eddie is the broken version of that trauma.

He tends to shy away from situations where you'd assume he'd rush in to, like saving Mrs. Chen.

Trying to help or inquiring when he notices Maria missing. Anything that involves complex emotions. He's a reporter, yes, and he's cordial when he needs to be, but he seems to stick to his job and otherwise keep to himself. They don't exactly show that he has any friends, just Anne. So he's probably introverted because of the years of abuse and having to feel like he has to do everything alone with little to no strings attached.

Even simple things like getting into Anne's emails can be misunderstood. It's not malicious, but more misguided. He loved Anne. He didn't do what he did with intent to get her in trouble. But his poor decision making is probably also a part of not actually being raised and not knowing how to handle certain situations such as actually talking to your partner before you do things on your own? So much could have been avoided. And Eddie had good intentions of getting rid of Carlton Drake, but ruined his own life and Anne's as well because he didn't think things through.

He can't handle his emotions well (might also tie into the noises issue he seems to have that are not related to Venom, a possible trigger for him).

He has a lot of nervous ticks that also tie in with someone growing up in an abusive household. Emotionally stunted ticks. Like holding eye contact when someone he cares about is upset with him and he doesn't know how to fix it (because everything he does is wrong).

Even something you might think is simple, like apologizing, have had negative consequences as a child and might be why even though he's no longer in that situation, his brain isn't used to connecting any good emotions between them. He's probably not used to apologizing sincerely because doing so never meant it would change the outcome.

His mannerisms get worse when he's particularly anxious, like when he might have thought Venom didn't want to come back just as Anne when she left and never wanted to come back.

Again, because he pushed them away, just like Anne. Again, because he messed it up. And again, because he didn't know how he was supposed to fix it.

Because Eddie cares so much even though his head is always such a mess. Makes me think his dad had a say or two about Eddie constantly groveling for his attention and the way it might have made him seem weak, and Eddie in turn stopped himself from letting himself be so open and able to talk about these issues because of it.

His inability to form and/or hold any kind of positive relationship is a good telling sign.

He grew up vying for love without success. He doesn't know what a healthy relationship is supposed to look or feel like long term, even though he tries.

He probably just looks for some level on comfortable routine in his day to day with someone, assumes that's the best he's going to get, and hopes for the best. Any change and it throws him completely off center. He's not used to communicating in a relationship when he grew up talking to a wall.

Also why I think he handles being with Venom so badly. It's not the eating heads and it's not the whole 'alien living in my body' ordeal.

If something isn't obviously positive it feels negative to him in his mind, which makes everything worse. He's selfish in needing to keep his mental state positive. It no doubt contributed to his alcoholism.

He became a people pleaser. Not in the way of gaining attention, but because he's constantly trying to avoid any negative sentiments directed his way. He's already damaged. He doesn't want to have to feel worse.

Eddie is in constant fight or flight with Venom without knowing what the symbiote will do next and how he, Eddie, will be perceived. He becomes very anxious, and later, angry. He's always walking on eggshells.

But the relationship is different with the symbiote than it is with Anne. Even if Eddie doesn't explicitly say it, he feels safe with Venom. More able to let that rage out that he couldn't before. And because he doesn't feel like the symbiote is going to actually hurt him, when his stress gets to him he tends to lash out at it. It's a lovely little cycle of abuse and Eddie really needs therapy.

Venom didn't fully understand the layers of Eddie's traumatized mind yet in LTBC, which is why I think it lashed out as well. Like Anne had with Eddie. Again, it's different though. Venom understands enough to see through that mess and see that Eddie doesn't mean anything with what he says.

It never does damage with malicious intent to Eddie, comedic acts aside. Not even with the fight between them in LTBC. It breaks Eddie's nose twice just to heal it immediately twice, and doesn't leave him with any lasting damage at all.

Because it cares about Eddie. And because it was never meant to harbor emotions, it's probably going through the damn gambit having to feel everything through Eddie and feeling just as hurt by him.

This is also why I think Eddie is constantly complaining in TLD. He's again in constant fight or flight and too comfortable with Venom, so he's just lashing out. But you can tell the symbiote takes none of it to heart, sometimes even seeming to ignore his remarks completely.

Maybe after a year with Eddie it finally understands the pain underneath all that stunted emotion, anxiety, and anger. That, and Eddie no longer drinks his negative emotions away, which means he has less ways to calm himself when he gets too stressed.

Through everything, Venom is the only one who has the ability to see the issues that are deeper. It stayed through all that mess and decided that what was under the baggage was worth holding on to, without Eddie having to try and explain why he is the way that he is.