#but its really hard not to be sad about this

[meansevika]

okay so very long thinkpiece about meljay and jayce' treatment of mel / the writers treatment of mel and how i think that all things considered she hasnt really won as much as we think she did

the thing about this that makes me so mad or rather sad (both, actually) is that we learn in season 1 how mel was brought up, that she didn't get to be soft and kind, that her surroundings were hard and rough just like her mother was, that love isn't a thing she knows like that especially not in relation to vulnerability. now if you think about media in general there is a pattern we know. the black woman is always the strong woman, the independent woman, the woman who doesnt get to be vulnerable bc of the first two points. so here comes this man she's trying to use not just for her own endeavors but for the good of piltover, clearly having a different mindset than her mother, and he cracks her open just like that. he's vulnerable with her and he lets her be vulnerable with him and it allows this woman this kind of vulnerability that she was never allowed to feel. she feels and she loves and there is someone who holds her and looks out for her when things go bad. he is his first thought after the bombing and hes so loving and endearing unlike her mother who is concerned, of course, but straight back to business too. and oh what a lovely thing that was to watch as a black woman who to this day still doesn't get to see this as often as we really should

so mel gets to experience something she hasnt before and you can tell it means something to her because when she gets back in act 3 the first reaction to him is an excited, hopeful one.

this is the man she cares deeply for and it is also the man who shes comforted before many times. something she needs in those very confusing times too. something she might be looking out for. something she might hope to get herself. some comforting after what shes been through for months. someone to share what is going on with her and how confusing it is to find out all those lies and secrets about herself.

until she notices how changed he is, how different he looks, so instantly she is worried. of course! who wouldnt be! she very likely didnt even know he was missing since its the first time we see her back in the city so she must've assumed he has been here and well for the whole time being (does she even know how long its been?) but it isnt fine as we know. she puts herself second! immediately! (and rewatching that scene now it actually makes me mad how she does that. and how anyone can question any of her feelings for him when shes immediately all jayce. or how in general people think shes only interested in her own goals) she asks this man who has shown her to be vulnerable around him and it BEING FINE, what happened, shes opening herself up to him, again, over and over, and he not only tells her it doesnt matter (what happened to him) but TURNS HIS BACK ON HER. he is literally shutting her off. he is saying with his body she does not get to do that. and for someone who has grown up like this, with a mother cutting off any kind of displays of weakness, this must be a familiar feeling, something that goes off like a bell

but she still tries! she still tries! she sees something is wrong but she tries to get comfort anyway, because this is jayce, right, this is the man she cares for deeply, the man who has opened this door for her and the door she's let herself through, the man who has always had compassion for her. of course she tries again. why wouldn't she? so she starts that something has happened to her but he doesn't even let her tell him what happened (actually it makes me so mad seeing this again and how crazy hostile he is towards her, its like im looking at the mel hating part of arcanetwt and him repeating beat for beat what theyve been saying for years) he doesnt give her room to speak, just takes it for himself, prioritizing himself and his own feelings. and, yes, figuring out the bombing thing and wanting to talk about it is valid and i think in general this could've been a great angsty way to deal with this topic IF they would've had the opportunity to talk this out properly but what happens instead is that the man that makes mel feel safe starts INTERROGATING her like she is a criminal that should be held for trial FOR SAVING HIM something she doesnt even undestand herself. and suddenly she is in a whole different position and i think by now she knows that this kind of compassion and understanding and room for vulnerability isn't part of their conversation anymore

she loses her composure and that of course isnt a first because she has started to be less put together around him, allowing her more room to "sway" but this kind of destruction is a different one because she feels at trial, feels cornered, feels like she has to explain herself but - and thats what is important - isnt heard. and i think that is something she knows very well, something shes grown up with, trying to explain herself and not being heard.

all of that happens while he is, mind you, still holding onto that hammer. something she surely notices too. the man who's usually quick to let down his defences around her, who isnt councilor talis or mister talis but just jayce around her, is holding onto that hammer like shes a threat. so he tells her he thinks shes lying and she asks him why he would think she'd do that, obviously, because her understanding of their relationship and their trust is a different one than his or at least this jayce that has come back from the arcane, because clearly this kind of understanding comes from somewhere and it comes from the times they've spent together alone throughout season 1 and a little in the beginning of season 2.

he throws at her that shes been using him, something that surprises her, because clearly she doesnt know what has happened, but she tries to explain anyway, because she doesnt know what has happened at least not in full (as you can tell by her reaction to viktor appearing, sensing the hostile mood between both, but also the way she reacts when viktor mentions the noxians intentions), and you can see that these thoughts of his are a result of months in the arcane alone with them and imagining conversations over conversations (although for me its still hard to understand how he grew that hostile towards her this quickly as if she were responsible for everything that happened but those are thoughts for a different post). he crashes out during that conversation, his face is warped with hatred and that is. all. for. her. to. see. and then BOOM goes the hammer off. mid conversation. a conversation that should feel safe with a man she should feel safe with but none of that is there. there is no space for her. (and yes i know hes aiming at viktors puppet but that isnt somethng mel is aware in that moment)

it all leads up to a fight and eventually they walk together and he apologizes, although very distantly and without much explanation, and despite it all, despite having good reasons to shut off and not share what she's feeling, she does. she talks to him about what is on her mind and they have a short, bittersweet exchange but it's just nowhere to what they've established in the first season. as a shipper of course that is super frustrating, but as a mel fan it's just sad to see that the person she felt safe enough to seek comfort in is just so closed off. but not only that, it's obvious they're parting ways and it's very obvious this is coming from his side and i think that is also why she so wilingly accepts it. she doesn't fight much back throughout their whole fight earlier either, she tries to explain herself, but doesnt demand that room for herself even though in this relationship she should be able to take just as much room for herself and her feelings as he does, but she doesn't. she just lets it happen and i understand it bc you have this man you trust and probably love and his first reaction to you is hostile when hostile has never been a response to her. he made a complete u-turn and of course that's off putting, maybe even scary, of course it shuts her down, makes someone who's so good with words and fighting just try to cause as little damage as possible because that is how she's grown up, isn't it?

and that is why i am sad about this. she learned that love doesnt have to look like her mothers and that being vulnerable isnt a weakness and its his doing but here she is met by this kind of hostility she only knows from noxus and it hurts even more that it COMES FROM HIM and over something as SAVING HIS LIFE when its clearly was an act out of love and not investment bc if i'd would've been just that than she would've saved viktor as well? but it wasnt about that. it was her subconscious making a decision and it was something her mother would describe as an act of weakness (theres a reason she gets renni to attack him bc she sees how fond mel of him is maybe even because shes been fond of a man herself once and she knows what itll do) and i think the worst part about it is that she doesnt ever get to truly articulate this or anything else and now that jayce is gone (dead? in a stone? who knows?) she won't get to ever probably. she won't get to say what she thinks and explain herself truly and she won't have anyone to confide in, to be comforted by or comfort. elora is dead, kino wasn't real and the real one is actually dead too, jayce is well whatever he is, and her mother died in her arms. yes, mel is a mage and that is fucking awesome and i was so happy to see her go off and get so many spotlights in battle, but shes also so fucking tragic actually. because here she is with a fuck ton of weight on her shoulders, the noxian army looking up to her, the whole name, not knowing who her father is or what any of her powers mean, the whole black rose thing, everything unresolved between her and jayce, the death of the people she loves, and shes all alone with it. shes all alone with it and she gets no one. man im just fucking sad that this woman got a glimpse of what it could be like to be loved and have someone to "come home to" just for her to have literally no one left like why do you hate black women so much why cant they get a fucking good ending and why cant they be fucking loved even when things get hard

also im lowkey mad that jayce got to find comfort in her lap so many times and not once did she get that in return, not even a squeeze of her shoulder, but dont let me get started on that....

[queen-of-wisdom]

Laurie opened her mouth, a strange sequences of fast breathing left her mouth. She told ST427730RN once that it was a traditional human expression of happiness.

"I once told you that we humans are from Earth, right?"

"Yes, you did. It was also part of our management course."

"That's the answer", said Laurie, her eyes were fixated on a point outsidd the window. ST427730RN follwed her eyes but couldn't see what Laurie was so occupied with.

"That is not a answer", ST427730RN insisted.

"Yes it is; it's not my fault you can't understand it."

Laurie showed her teeth. ST527730RN has to remind itself that it wasn't a sign of hostility but a sign of joy, even if it didn't really understand why Laurie was so happy talking about her destroyed planet of origin.

"No, sorry, that wasn't fair of me", she said. "It's just...hard to explain."

"Try", it said. "For me."

Laurie looked at the blanket. ST527730RN followed her look again. Maybe it has to also ask her what she was always looking at.

"Earth isn't just our planet of origin, for us humans, I mean", Laurie started. "Everything in our cultures is based of the ancestral land on Earth. The food, the stories, the traditions. In some cultures, there's a big emphasis on being buried at the same place as your ancestors, others believe that special spirits live inside the Earth . It's really different. "

"But, Laurie, I do not understand. Did not your planet became unhabitable around a thousand years ago?"

"Yes, that's true but...you know we humans love documentating things, right?"

"You always write your past experiences down right before sleepingh, how could I not know?"

Laurie did her traditional human expression of happiness again.

"Right, right sorry...anyway, the humans of the past did the same. They photographed and described the whole planet. It was beautiful, you know? Really, really beautiful. I grew up watching documentaries of the fish that once lived in the cool oceans and about gigantic forrests with leaves as green as on Orne-te'go, we should watch it together, I'll show you. Then you'll understand too."

Laurie looked it directly into its eyes.

"I do not want to discourage you from your culture", ST527730RN said. "But I really like you, Laurie and the thought of your sadness would transfer to me feeling the same, so I want to remind you that so far, no species ever has reformed a once made inhabitable planet into a habitable one again. It is not possible."

"I'm flattered by your care, '52, I really am, but it's fine, really. I don't expect Earth to become liveable again soon, I just hope that it's soon enough that I don't have to continue the tradition with our grandkids. That I can show them Earth, instead of only watching films about it. I have to hope that. "

"What is this 'hope'? It is a word from your language, correct?"

She showed her teeth. "Yeah, it's a emotion but it's kinda hard to explain."

"Try", ST527730RN said. "For me."

Laurie closed her eyes. Probably to stop distract her from these things she keeps seeing at the blanket or outside in space.

"Hope is...when you wish for your descendants to grow up on Earth, even if it's completely unrealistic by today's standards. It's when you know that something is unlikely to happen but you still believe. Because you have to."

"Why do you have to hope?"

"Because that's how the good future happens."

"You humans have hundreds of planets under your control, so why do you waste so many resources trying to make that Earth planet habital? I genuinely don't understand."

[sun-kissy]

No worries if you don’t feel comfortable writing this, but Remus x reader who’s having an anxiety attack? I read the prompt below that made me think of this, and just want something just as sad to match. As much of a fluffy ending as you can pls :(

"Leave me alone!" She screamed, pushing away the only person that seemed to care about her.

thank you for your request, sweetheart!!

breathe | r.l.

tw: anxiety attack

remus lupin x reader

Remus wasn’t expecting to find you in a foetal position on your bedroom floor upon coming in. He had knocked on your front door a couple times, and when you hadn’t opened it, assumed you were using the bathroom and let himself in.

You had your legs folded up to your chest, arms wrapped around yourself like a shield. He immediately knew there was a cause for concern, what with how your loud breaths got shallower as the seconds passed. Shaking like a leaf may have been a cliché phrase; but there was nothing else he could think of to describe you, frail and torn and trembling all over.

In your defence, you had no idea an anxiety attack was coming for you. One second you were doing the laundry, and the next it felt like someone had wrapped their hands around your neck and squeezed.

You had immediately staggered into your bedroom, which was a mistake — the walls of the small room seemed to close in on you, pressing and pushing until they reduced you to the tiny thing laying pathetically on your floor.

The sound of your heartbeat was deafening, all around you like the four walls of a cage. Panic was clogging up your throat, condensing into bile on the tip of your tongue. You couldn’t think. There were strategies that you had learnt, ways to calm yourself down. But your mind was shrouded in fear in the form of fog, dread in the shape of darkness. There was no escaping this.

“Hey,” a gentle voice says. An arm wraps around your shoulders, carefully pulling you up into a sitting position. Warm, calloused hands take your own. Remus.

It’s hard to hear him over the noise of your thrumming heartbeat. You lick your lips, over and over again. It doesn’t help; your voice is still stuck at the bottom of your throat. “I — I can’t —“

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he continues to rub the back of your palm, using his other hand to brush off the beads of sweat adorning your forehead. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

You tried to locate Remus in the blurry pixels dotting your vision, but the best you could do was his silhouette.

“I can’t — I can’t find you,” you gasp desperately, breaths getting heavier.

“That’s okay, dove. I’ll find you.”

He brings your hand to his chest, splaying out his palm over yours. “We’ve got to slow down your breathing, okay? Can you do this with me?”

You feel his chest expand, before it settles back in its original position. Up, then down again. You don’t think you can do it, but for Remus, you’ll give it a shot.

Up, then down. Your heart squeezes when you try to breathe; like it’s nothing but a sponge. You open your mouth to tell Remus that, but the sponge in your chest makes its way to your throat. All you can do is shake your head pitifully.

Remus gives you a reassuring smile, his kindness endless. “That’s alright, you’re doing really well. Let’s try something easier, yeah? Help me out here. Find something… red, in this room.”

You turn your head, eyes darting around aimlessly. Your gaze locks on a blurry shape in the open dresser, which revealed itself to be a scarf when you squinted. You raise your hand, pointing at it with a trembling finger.

“Good job, dove.” A swift kiss to your forehead. “What about something blue?”

Blue. You swivel your head around. One more time, and you still can’t spot a thing. There’s nothing blue here, and you’re going to panic, and —

Blue. Your favourite colour. You immediately look down, fingers clenching around the crystal blue locket on your neck. The present Remus had given you for your sixteenth birthday.

“This — this locket?” you croak.

“You got it,” he murmurs reassuringly, giving your wrist a squeeze. “Last one, okay? Green.”

It was getting easier. You blink and your head seems a little lighter. “The plants, by the windowsill.”

“Well done, sweetheart.” He gives you a congratulatory peck on the top of your head, fingers sliding down to intertwine with yours. “Feeling better?”

You nod an affirmative, letting out a shaky breath as the tension seeps out. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he smiles softly. “Do you know what triggered it?”

You sigh, leaning back till your head hits the wall. Remus is quick to slot his hand in between, softening the blow as he slowly drops his arm. “I don’t know. I guess it was just the lack of sleep.”

“You need to take better care of yourself, dove. You’ve been overworking,” he sighs, moving his hand to rub circles on your knee.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologise for, lovely girl.” He starts to smile when you clamber forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders in an awkward hug. “Just try to listen to your body more, yeah? And to me, of course.”

“Of course,” you mutter sarcastically, your lips curving upward. He grins, grabbing your hips and tugging until you’re straddling him. “That’s right. Now, how about you go take a warm bath and I’ll order us some pizza?”

“But I need to finish my —“

“Nope. What did I just tell you?”

You sigh loudly. “I gotta listen to you,” you grumble.

“Exactly. That’s my good girl,” Remus grins, fingers slipping under your T-shirt to rub the skin on your hips lovingly.

He helps you up and to the bathroom. He orders pizza, puts on your favourite movie, and smothers you with love. Remus was right; you were going to be okay.

[luvmanifesting]

“But Nothing’s working!!”

LOA explained

Pure consciousness explained

Well duh you made that assumption so now nothing is going to work for you. The sad part about this community is most of you are searching for the same thing over and over and over when creators are literally giving you the answers IN their blogs. like what more do you want? Do you want someone to say you need to listen to 432HZ to manifest your goals? that you need to dance in circle and chant 999 times for your desires? No. The Law of assumption is literally always active. like ALWAYS. Everything you assume is going to be put out there because its an assumption.

What really irks me is when people say you have to “gaslight” yourself into thinking you have your desire, which kind of contradicts the whole point of law of assumption, why would you need to gas light yourself if you know you already have it..? yeah.. those two things don’t mix. Let me go over what an assumption is.. which clearly seems so hard for this community to understand.

The Law of Assumption is when you assume something to be true without needing proof.. Why do you lack critical thinking skills when the whole law basically explains what it is.

You don’t get what you want. You get what you decide. Why is the law of assumption being so overly complicated for no reason. None of yall did this with the Law of Attraction so why are you doing this with the Law of Assumption?? This also goes with inducing pure consciousness.. i hate bringing this topic up so much because people will take my words and make it into the world’s hardest problem in history. Imagine one day you DECIDE to induce pure consciousness and you say “hmm okay today i induced pure consciousness instantly! :D” And then imagine you get comfy and just breathe and then you suddenly induce the pure consciousness. wow so easy right? because you didn’t say “i want to induce pure consciousness” instead you said it like it ALREADY happened. Wants and Decisions are very different so keep that in mind.

What is pure consciousness? basically just a state detached from the physical world NO you’re not leaving the physical world, no you’re not teleporting, you’re basically in like a state of where worries don’t exist and you’re your “highest” self.

Clearing up misinformation.

No you don’t have to be in a deep relaxation

No you don’t need subliminals

No you don’t need a “void” routine

No you don’t need sats

No you don’t need to affirm mindlessly throughout the day

No you don’t need to meditate

No you don’t need frequencies

No you don’t need to be lucky

Yes you can swallow

Yes you can move

Yes you can breathe

Yes you can have inner conversations

Yes you can count to 2 billion

No it won’t start over if you sneeze

You’re literally human doing any of these things won’t affect your outcome when inducing pure consciousness. Whoever said you need to be lucky is beyond stupid btw. Whoever said you need symptoms to induce it, is… WRONG!! you are taking pure consciousness and seeing it as the most hardest thing in the world when its not, you literally induce pure consciousness when you’re asleep you’re just unaware because you’re sleeping.

Example putting the sleep state and pure consciousness (they are not the same thing but do have similar remedies). Imagine you’re getting ready to sleep after showering and doing your nightly routine if you have one. Your main goal after all of that is to just basically GO to sleep right? you’re not even worried about how you’re going to go to sleep you’re just going to do it. Now imagine you’re going and inducing pure consciousness what you should mainly be focused on is NOTHING, not time, not what, if, how, it, so, why, then, where. NO! just let go guys..

Just Breathe, its okay you will (WRONG WORD) you already have it all, just live. its okay reminder the 4D is the true reality and the 3D has no choice but to reflect to what is shown in the 4D or what is SAID by you.

[jewish-vents]

I'm Bene Israel.

I've always felt Jewish above everything else..because the world treats me that way.

I know for a fact my fellow Indians/South Asians don't see me as Indian. So I never bothered. I stuck with the people who accepted me.

After October 7th, I've just been really sad and hopeless.

All my life I knew there was a major antisemitism issue in poc communities (i never faced much racism in the jewish community because the jews i know arent white haha) but. Now I feel completely locked out. Previously, I was able to begin a bridge between poc and Jews (since im both) but now I fear it's too late.

Of course its never too late. Of course we must continue to try to connect with others but. I had to cut off all my gentile friends. They wouldnt listen to me. They dont care about antisemitism no matter how hard I tried to get them to.

I cant believe where we've reached honestly. Having to constantly explain to my fellow poc that framing antisemitism as white on white crime is cruel. That jewishness is complex. I had someone tell me they dont see me as jewish because jews are white and im indian so im "not really a jew". It made me want to scream. Being jewish is all i know. Indians told me im not indian. So my family and i just embraced who we are instead of begging for acceptance.

I feel crushed. I feel like i cant be in the poc community because theres a serious antisemitism problem and they wont shed the idea that jews are white. They try to tokenize me. Im just sad. I want better for us all. I wont give up but it's too hard sometimes.

.

[candycoatedrox]

great news

i've been doing that for three months!

this is Wade. putting uhhhh. a small* ramble about them under the cut bc. i like them very much ^^ no obligation to read it tho

*it's not small anymore. oopsies

ok so, as previously mentioned, this is Wade. he/they during the events of the game. they'll eventually go by she/they/he but well. (wade voice) "i might be transfem but i have to get out of this timeloop so idrc about that rn"

her personality is actually very similar to Siffrin's already -- the main difference is that she's more lowkey. more eepy. also more anxious but don't worry about that. also she's tall

Wade is the only one with a design rn but i have ocs assigned to each of the major characters...!! except um Bonnie might have two ocs. don't ask me how that works i am trying really really hard to figure it out. long story short one of them (Ji, he/she) is literally perfect for Bonnie story-wise bc in their original story Ji already has an awkward relationship with Wade because of his injured eye... but one of my MAIN ocs (Neri, xe/they/she) has the perfect personality for Bonnie and also if i leave xem out i will be so so sad and they don't fit any of the other characters in isat... i'm. suffering. also also you can see a very rough design for Atlas (she/her) (Mirabelle's role) in that three panel doodle comic. anyway this post is about WADE. and also maybe VALENCE

"who's Valence" I'M GLAD YOU ASKED. my oc filling in Loop's role. it/its. name pronounced vay-lence (after valence electrons, or electrons in the outermost orbit of an atom). nicknamed V by Wade. already has a character arc centered around identity issues and being a clone (though IRONICALLY, in its original story it's not a clone of Wade, it's a clone of the character who takes the role of the King here!! very fun!! i like this fun fact a lot!!!!). already has an extremely sifloop-like relationship (and i mean this in most of the fucked up ways too) with Wade. does anyone wanna take a wild guess why i immediately latched onto isat so hard

anyway i have been. very excited about this au for the past several months heh. as a bonus for making it to the end of my. um. very long ramble about my beloved ocs have a VERY rough Valence design that i don't even think i like very much that i sketched out at school today. it looks way too much like Loop but i don't know how to make it look distinct enough without having to step away from the star motif which i love soooo very much. i'll just have to figure it out lol

Hey. Take my hand. You should swap an In Stars and Time character with one of your OCs whether that means an AU or outfit swap, regardless of if you'd rather focus more on the ISAT character or the OC

[b-lossm]

•*+Jonny+*•

Cait x reader [Anget->fluff]

Synopsis: She always said you where above the girls she snuck into her room, then why wont she put a label on the two of you?

ooc Cait i think but like I didnt know how to finish this

"God I'm loosing my mind" you mumble to yourself as you prime a canvas, for a date night that might not even happen. 'what's the point' you think while putting your stuff away, you planned a nice date night for you and Cait, but now your just questioning if she even loves you like you assume she does, I mean- actions do speak louder then words.. right?

When Caitlyn eventually arrives, coming in through your window because due to her status, nobody really knows about your 'relationship'- well your dog knows but he doesnt count.

"Hey Princess" she hugs and kisses you softly, hiding something behind her back "Hey Cait.." you say awkwardly, mind still dwelling on how she might not love you "Oh Princess? what's wrong?" she places your surprise down on your bed and hugs you comfortingly. Your lip starts to quiver "I-- I feel like m' crazy because" you hesitate, she rubs your back and traces shapes into your side "hey you can tell me anything you know me.." Cait leads you to her bed and continues to comfort you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear "Caitlyn do you really love me?" you whisper, nervous--obviously her breath hitches “P—please let me figure it out” you tear up and she lays with you on your bed “Princess why would you ask me that? Of course I love you” you look away from her “Then why don't I feel it?” she struggles to answer you "y/n you know its hard for m--" "yeah well its hard for me too Cait! You have to tell her!" you argue before she can even start on her spiel again "Caitlyn she probably will disapprove but she'd put up with it! She literally has all this time! She's walked in on us cuddling so many times Cait! It is so painfully obvious that you like girls! or at least me.." you quiet down after a little bit, breathing heavily out of frustration and sadness.

Cait stays silent, she knows your right, she knows that her mother will.. reluctantly love her still, but she just doesn't understand why she cant just tell her mom outright, she always just thought that her parents would get the hint and not bother her about it but she was scared, she knew they didn't care as long as she carried out the Kiramman bloodline but she was scared that they would force her to leave you--force you out of her life. She sighs "I know I do okay? Just because I haven't doesn't mean I don't love you--" "you love me..?" she sees even more tears welling up in your eyes moving to wipe them before they can even fall "why would I not?" you feel gentle kisses being pressed all over your face, as well as Cait mumbling 'perfect' over and over again

with a huff you pull away "Cait, who was it that said a white wall may seem empty" you take a breath and Cait plays with your hair "But its ready to be filler, and in its readiness needs nothing, it stands complete" you finish "hm.. whoever it was is right, just because something seems empty doesn't mean its not complete" you giggle at her cluelessness "It was you Cait.. you told me that strange poem but it makes me wonder, if your ready, ready to be happy with me" you look into her eyes, her pupils dilated as she stares back with love "I'm ready Princess,..." without hesitation you push your soft lips against hers, your strawberry chap stick mixing with her vanilla "tomorrow, I promise I'll do it tomorrow" she says a bit breathlessly as she lets go of the kiss "Pinky promise" you childishly stick your pinky finger to her and she intertwines the two and locks it in with your thumbs touching, she then kisses your hand "Pinky promise"

--

The very next day, Cait fulfilled her promise and snuck you into her house, she wanted you to officially meet her parents, as her girlfriend :)

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

Guys i miss arcane :(

but omg the caitvi sesbian lex was so goooddd, expect 18+ hcs coming soon, theyre probably gonna come out before the change series ends tbh sorrry :(((

🐮 👦🏾soon.......

[night-triumphantt]

I have some thoughts about the arcane ending w nowhere to go but uh, if ur not here for some critique keep it pushing loll

Now that I’ve had a day to digest I’m actually v disappointed w the way the story gave up on its revolutionary messaging. The focus of season one is the piltover and zaun plot, the oppression of Zaun and its impacts on the characters, it is how vi and powder are orphaned, it’s why viktor is disabled, it is why the undercity struggles, Zauns independence is what silco was fighting for, vander and silcos ideological disagreements are based on it etc etc. the tensions between the two cities is rising and rising and then it just, fizzles out and pivots and makes viktor the main antagonist without any recognition of how he got here. And don’t get me started on how there’s zero consequences for cait who is?? Still an enforcer??

The plot highlights through Vi that the enforcers are an oppressive arm of a system w how she was treated as a CHILD and even as an adult and she betrays her ideals, to do what she thinks is right bc she thinks she has to take out her sister and bc cait asked her to do so as an enforcer. And then in doing so she betrays her ideals so aggressively that she is now the exact thing that hurt her, an enforcer, traumatizing a child, utilizing the gas on the undercity, excusing the consequences. And when she faces Caitlyn, cait obfuscates and says she wouldn’t have missed even tho that’s not *better*. Bc ok let’s say she didn’t miss, she just kills jinx in front of isha? and she just gassed the city w what we know is toxic gas? And then she discards vi bc vi isn’t going along with what she wants. Cait then is never shown reckoning w the biases and cruel things she’s done and said after that. There is ONE conversation w her and Vi and it’s framed as Ambessa is the issue which, she is partially but like, topside enforcers were all behind her and Cait was quick to lean into all her preconceived notions of zaunites. (Speaking of making what’s her name a mole was stupid and imo done just to make it so Cait doesn’t have to have that convo w her?? Idk)

Also, Vi goes on a drinking spree in which we never actually see her reckon w what she did as an enforcer, (it’s mostly framed around Cait) and then she hurts isha and,,, nothing?? No sorry?? Nothing. Vi has no plot that shows us her thoughts, her reckoning w what she did, or anything. In my opinion it’s bc the writers wanted cait/vi to work and if Vi actually had to think about what happened and what she did then they wouldn’t have worked out. Vi w/ no one to protect who has to rebuild her identity and really decide how she ended up where she did, I would have loved to see it. Her and Jinx’s convo where she says u don’t need me to protect u was actually rlly good, them reconnecting as equals & Vi seeing how jinx became a symbol of the undercity, fighting for it together, finding how she lost her way, like, cmon. Jinx not ending her story w yea actually u should die previously suicidal character, (don’t worry, this is a good way to die) and instead doing the hard work of rebuilding, and seeing a future for herself that isn’t painted in tragedy, surrounding herself w ppl who love her and help her grow (while silco loved her he could not help her grow bc of his own unhealed wounds) using her ingenuity to rebuild w ekko, like, ugh. These are very rough thoughts that got kinda, long, but yea in conclusion, while I loved the characters, the refusal to *commit* to the political message they started hurt the show a lot, and I’m rlly sad for what could have been.

I have a lot more thoughts about sevika and Mel as well but I’m mostly just bummed.

[violent-viscera]

my true (respectful) thoughts of arcane s2

so much of the promotional material promised so much in the way of vi and jinx/powder and their sisterly relationship, but i feel like with the amount of storylines/plotlines they did in this season, it was just too busy to focus on anyone–let alone the two supposed protagonists of the show. i think the best way for me to articulate how i feel about the writing of this show is that it fell flat, lost its heart, and emotional impact of the first season.

i would have been okay with them straying from my personal favourite focus if:

the storylines had been fleshed out better

the decisions the characters made actually made sense

main characters didn't become plot devices (vi)

new additions of the show weren't just plot devices (isha, loris, maddie, etc.)

motivations of characters made sense

characters had even small lines/dialogue to articulate their intentions/ideas

less time spent on off-screen development

and the thing is with the amount of plot lines they were ambitiously aiming to see out to fruition, its really hard to also set up all these new facets or opposing characteristics in former characters–plus adding new ones too. for example:

caitlyn's facist arc that didn't really have much meaning or attention

jinx's s1 mental collapse which changed abruptly into her redemption arc via isha (plot device)

jinx's revolutionist arc (first, reluctantly and then, willingly w ekko)

vi's pitfighter/brawler arc which was literally just one clip (which ended up being a teaser that showed everything)

im almost grateful to the minimal screen time ekko got bc they didn't try to change the core and essence of who he was in s1: he stayed true to himself. he's just a boy with a huge heart and love for his people that chose to leave his happy ending in an alternate timeline to return to the ppl who needed him where he is almost guaranteed heartbreak in some way or another.

i think the main reason so many ppl loved the first season was bc the characters were relatable in one way or another and they became so multidimensional when you explored how their environment/circumstances shaped them. but this season bc it was so purely focused on the endgame instead of HOW everyone got there, the characters fell flatter, they lost a soul and heart, and i felt the show lost its charm.

i know we all have our favourite characters and storylines we want the show to focus on and i would have been okay if i didn't get my way. if the show didn't focus on jinx and vi, i would've lived (although the promotional material was unfairly misleading) if the storylines, characters, and everything else made sense to me.

of course, the animation was lovely and the music was catchy/heartbreaking. i dont regret watching the show out to its final episode. it was one of the most beautiful visual experiences of my entire life. i still love the characters and will never regret staying on board until the final moments.

but i cant lie and say im not a little sad at how it ended too.

edited add-on:

also, the voice actors did phenomenally. ella purnell just absolutely nails the delivery for every line and reed shannon also hurt me with how he portrayed ekko. so on and so forth.

but that being said, i also felt the dialogue and lines of each character felt much less impactful this season (again, writing.)

i liked viktor’s monologue at the end of act 2. that was compellingly well written

but the lines this season weren’t the same quality as silco’s monologue about drowning, jinx’s speech at the beginning of the doomed tea party, etc. everything just felt so flat and shallow this season overall.

[littlebitofeverythingsblog]

So in short: bioware really gave us a shit product (the writing team SPECIFICALLY) with dragon age veilguard and gaslit us that it was come to form game. I genuinely hate what we got and I hate it even more knowing what could've been. I can't believe how a company had such guts to absolutely destroy their game this hard with little to no regard of fans. Like these same people gotta make ME4 IM GONNA KILL MYSELF

But to be so honest I'm kind of happy they fumbled because of this. They lied about everything. Game being dark,the illusion of "choice" in the game,romances,having the most dialog in the game even tho we can't even go up to companions and talk to them...and thank God they weren't awarded for this shit. I hope they sink because of their hubris and arrogance.

All they wanted was to get rid of this game so they can move on to ME4 so they did little what they could do. Push their political agenda (sorry gotta pull a Bharv now🤭) and reuse what seemed more like a ME version of DA. It never felt like a DA game. ME is an amazing game but very different to DA. They took completely different approach in every way possible when handing the Veilguard and its BAD it's just hot pile of crap.

(the potential this game had after seeing the art book is crazy) I'm so disappointed,angry and sad. After 10 years...yes they had ups and downs but c'mon...THEY HAD THE ARTWORK RIGHT THERE!!! how could it be possible that they removed ALL THE ACTUAL INTERSTING THINGS?! They're incompetent but hey at least we got "educated" and "preaced to" on what really matters in the world (and the world of Thedas) ! Thanks Bioware. What a shit show.

[fyeahnix]

Ok lemme talk about this season of Arcane, the ending, and most importantly, Sevika. If you don't want spoilers, back away now but I'm leaving this open because people have a tendency to not open or read my posts with read more cuts after them 🙃

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First off, I will say that I like Arcane a lot. Like a LOT. I've watched the first season 4 times (rarely do I watch anything more than once) and I think it's a masterclass in adult animation. Fortiche really put everything into this series.

That being said...

While I did like season 2, I don't think it was enough. Animation wise it was phenomenal, writing wise...I think it could have been better. As I've learned through doing research for my Sevika fics, the League of Legends universe, lore, and worldbuilding is fucking MASSIVE and even if I don't give two shits about that community or game, I have to give it props in that department because they really put a ton of work into it to make it feel alive. Maps? Short stories? Timelines? Race and culture? Apex could never...

That ofc is why it's hard for me to say that the writing is amazing. We had far too many characters to keep track of in season 2 with far too many plot threads to finish in two seasons. I think ideally, this series should have been 3 seasons instead of 2. Acts 1 and 2 could have been its own season, and Act 3 could have been its own season. If not that, then at least one more episode per act would have helped a lot. Things just progressed and wrapped up far too quickly for my liking.

Also not a huge fan of how quickly video game related media tends to dip into the whole timeline and multidimensional business. It def works well for some games but here? Idk I guess it was bound to happen given some League character's abilities, but the stakes just elevated far too quickly for me. Not a fan of Viktor becoming one of the main antagonists at all, and DEFINITELY not a fan of the conflict between Piltover and Zaun being sidelined for an "enemy of my enemy is my friend" thing with the war against the Noxians. It makes sense, I just wish "war with the Noxians" came at a later date so we could focus on the twin cities.

And speaking of the generational conflict between Piltover and Zaun, let's talk about Sevika.

As I said before, Sevika is the most qualified person to become the leader of Zaun and I stand by that even after the ending. But first....what about her found family? Isha sacrificed herself and Sevika gets no on-screen reaction? The last two episodes just progressed SOOOO FAST that we and some of the characters didn't even have time to breathe. Did Sevika even get time to mourn for Isha? What about Jinx, who is now gone? Sevika barely even encountered Vander! I would have loved to see some of the aftermath there because I think season 1 did a better job of allowing characters time to process their emotions and grief, even if the pacing was still kinda fast. It was acceptable!

I am sad af she didn't get more lines, but remember, Sevika has always been a side character in this series. An important side character but a side character no less. The promo shot of her now feels like...what was the point? (more on that in a sec) but considering how many characters and plot points and plot threads they had to account for, I am not surprised she didn't get more screen time. Hell, Vi and Caitlyn didn't even get a chance to have a full conversation on eveything that happened and Caitlyn didn't even apologize on screen. The fuck bro.

Now about Sevika's ending....I am very happy she isn't dead. Like dawg, you have no fucking idea how happy I am about it. SHE FUCKING LIVED. But....

I am seeing some people saying they're not happy or they're confused or that her ending doesn't make sense. And I just disagree with those points. Let me explain why.

I posted something earlier today about it, but again, as people don't open my read mores, I'll repost it here:

We absolutely do not know how much time passed between the war and the final few shots of the season. So Sevika joins the council. I DO NOT THINK she would do this unless there's a good reason for it, and that's why I'm guessing she will be Zaun's ambassador on the council. That war probably significantly changed the relationship between Piltover and Zaun and while old wounds will take more than a fucking war to heal, her being on the council now means she directly has a say in Zaun's future. Remember, the council was literally about to hand Zaun their independence before Jinx blew it up, and Mel was in support of it. As I said before, Sevika is respected down there at a bare minimum with all the factions. She would know better than anyone how to lead Zaun at this point. So yeah I get the hesitation, but it makes sense in my eyes. And it makes it likely that Sevika could show up again in a future League animation, if not become a whole champion.

I like her ending. I am sorry but it just makes fucking sense. Sevika is extremely loyal to her home and her people of Zaun. We've seen that time and time again. She was willing to go to war and die for those people not just against Piltover but also the Noxians, so why on fucking earth would anyone believe she's making a bad choice here?

She is now in the best possible position anyone in Zaun could be to advocate for their independence and support their growth. She knows the chem barons and brought them to peace, she gained the respect of the Firelights with Scar leading them in Ekko's absence, and she even got the Jinxers together with them before the Noxian attack on Zaun. Sevika has experience, she has the ear of the people, she knows what it's like down there, she is made to lead and help advocate for them!!!!

Believe me I get that whole "changing things from the inside" angle doesn't work more often than not, but this doesn't feel like "changing from the inside," it feels like "let me advocate for my people's actual independence so we have a starting point to become self sufficient." Again, Piltover was literally about to let Zaun gain their independence, and while none of the previous council members that agreed to it are there, Mel is/was. Who's to say she didn't help negotiate for Sevika to sit on the council and start (or complete!) the Zaun independence process before she left for Noxus? I can't imagine Sevika would just show up to the table and sit there if she didn't have a damn good reason. Like come on now. This woman has seen first-hand what Piltover is capable of and does not like them nor looks like she wants to be there. But she's seen what Piltover has done to her people first-hand, and after learning from both Vander and Silco, this is how she feels she can best protect her people.

She IS the new leader of Zaun and their ambassador at the council.

And lastly, we've been told that some characters will be returning in future League animations. Mel seems like an absolute given, but what about Sevika? Zaun's story is only just beginning, and yeah they said they'd like to branch out to other regions, that doesn't mean a cameo or maybe another medium can't be used to continue that story (a book, perhaps??).

Anyway yeah those are my thoughts...

[charlie-bonkerz]

a couple things mootie

number 1, NEVER be afraid or nervous to share ur opinion or speak ur mind on the internet. worst thing that happens is u gotta block someone. its like that one audio- "what r u gonna do??? punch me with an emoji???"

and number 2- no hate to ur friend but oh brother.

did. did they read it with their eyes closed????

the sad thing is this is not just an opinion that JUST your friend has. last year, we read the outsiders in school, and thats what got me into the fandom. (i had read it in 7th grade and i didnt really care about it bc i was young and stupid but thats another story)

i found that a lot of classmates were valuing the greasers as characters moreso than what they represented. and that makes sense!! the characters are why everyone loves this book in the first place. but if you wanna get to the core, you have to put the "real people" aspect of them aside- (which is difficult, because of how well written they are) they were looking at it through ponyboys perspective a little TOO hard, and they were missing the bigger picture. i think we r forgetting that this is a literal 14 year old- a MIDDLE SCHOOLER if this took place in modern times. (no offense to any 14 year olds reading)

i know ive already been like "the outsiders is a story about blank" like 5 times but its about a LOT of things. its ALSO about something my 11th grade history teacher likes to call; "The Human Condition."

The Human Condition (which is not a new term), refers to the universal experiences of being human, like love, loss, youth, morality, pain, etc. think "the dead poet's society." (which, if you havent seen, i 100000% recommend.)

despite these words we use to define and establish differences between ourselves, we are all human. and with humanity comes struggle. it is born within all of us. but so is love, and beauty etc etc etc.

all this big long essay post really boils down to this: the differences between socs and greasers are real, valid, and important. social groups are inevitable, natural, and even necessary. but, again, at the end of the day, the sunset is the same on both sides of town.

"you can't ever win you know that doesn't matter if you win us you'll still be where you were before the bottom and we'll still be the lucky ones at the top with all the breaks"

Randy sounding almost mocking at the end because he's realized this whole cycle is useless and suddenly he really doesn't believe in it anymore and his anger can't mask that anymore, Pony just listening cause he's known this his whole life and he's watching it hit someone on the "other side" suddenly neither of them is a "soc" or a "greaser" they're just two really hurt and confused kids who are seeing each other as such

[katatty]

Shifting Priorities

Thank you for all the nice comments yesterday! Some really helpful perspectives that gave me a lot of ideas on how I can tackle my simmer's block :)

Mostly, I think I need to trim down the number of neighbourhoods I consider "active" and the amount of projects I am doing in general. I have a hard time letting go of neighbourhoods, especially if I am still somewhat invested in them! But I also need to face the fact that I only have so much free time, and do not want playing the sims to be the sole thing I do with that free time XD

For some neighbourhoods I will also be trying out a more stripped-down approach to blogging, similar to what I've been doing with Driftwood. It makes me a little sad because I like my sims to feel fleshed out as characters and giving them voices is a big part of that! But maybe I can save the prose/dialogue for times when it is particularly needed, rather than including it as a default.

Finally, I am going to prioritise based on what I actually have the most fun with, rather than letting popularity drive my decisions!! Some neighbourhoods I feel sad about potentially retiring because I know people enjoy them, or I feel bad admitting I am never going to finish projects people were excited for, but I have to remember simming is something I do for myself, not for popularity or for other people.

So, plans for my neighbourhoods:

Pleasantview Plus - will continue in its current form for the most part, but holdholds I found less inspiring will just get short summaries rather than extensive documentation. This hood is waaaaaaay too big and I think not that many people follow it all that closely, but it's also my one true love and I would like to start prioritising it again rather than it always being on the backburner

Uberhood Challenge (YouTube Series) - This is a short-term series, and will continue as planned until I finish the challenge, which I'm over halfway through :)

Hollyhead - I hate to say it because I know a lot of people love it, but I feel like I have sorta outgrown this neighbourhood? Some simmers like their settings to be an escape from the real world, and when I made Hollyhead I think it was what I needed too, but these days I find how upbeat & wholesome it is a bit, idk, constraining?? I crave drama and conflict in my stories!! I also have kinda lost interest in the BACC rules and have started to find it more book-keeping and hassle for what I get out of it... Whenever I do open the neighbourhood I still really enjoy actually playing it, and I love the characters so much, but I just haven't found the events interesting enough to want to write about. I think this neighbourhood will not be retired completely (yet), but I will move towards writing much shorter updates in the form of newspaper articles and see if that helps. If by the end of this season I still feel ehhh about it, I might formally end it <3

Driftwood - no complaints about this hood, I'll probably continue with the current style of documenting major events & new builds only

Spruceburg (YouTube series) - I would like to do another season of this next year, after I finish the uberhood challenge! But I will probably go for a schedule of like, one season of series per year, rather than posting consistantly. I enjoy YouTube a lot, but its a lot of work too and I think has majorly taken away from my blogging time this year, which I am mourning now lol!!

The Fiero Legacy - it is probably time to throw in the towel with this and admit I just don't enjoy playing legacy style or with story progression that much! I always enjoy the period where the heir is dating but once they settle down and have kids it becomes a chore and a grind, plus with story progression's time system I always feel rushed and like I can't take a sim out of the house for an outing without potentially missing important milestones - the urban setting feels so wasted when its all family gameplay, haha. Hallie should be at the club!! It was an interesting experiment and a nice change of pace, but idk if I really see myself returning to it. I love the sims themselves and the setting, but whenever I actually load up the neighbourhood I just feel kinda stressed and overwhelmed :(

As for my building projects like Belladonna Cove, perhaps at some point I will get really inspired and return to them but for now they are on indefinite break. I remember saying a few time in the past that I didn't really feel much need to make over Pleasantview and Strangetown because if I wanted nice makoevers I would use frottanas, and tbh I feel the same way about Belladonna Cove - if I was playing it I would just use plumbtales makeovers XD With my past neighbourhood makeovers I was really inspired to make them because there wasn't anything out there that was exactly what I wanted but, well, there's loooooads of nice Belladonna cove makeovers these days so I just don't feel much drive to make my own version I guess?? I think I also have lost interest in building a little becasue I am no longer into super heavily decorated lots - I prefer lighter lots that won't cause lag lol! So yeah, I am probably not retiring from building forever but its no longer a priority for me :)

[gingacat]

twisted from: Myth of the Victoria Water Lily

name: Lily V. Maven

birthday: February 12 (Aquarius)

age: 16

height: 155 cm

homeland: Starway River, a river that starts in the Oniric Rainforest and crosses the Golden Cordilleras. (my fan made locations)

grade: Freshman

class: D

club: Film Research club

best subject: Astrology

worst subject: History of magic

dorm: Astromunay (my Yzma fan dorm)

hobbies: Stargazing

pet peeves: Heartless people

favorite food: Avocado with sugar

least favorite food: Meat

talent: Acrobatic diving

nicknames: Mavis (Cater), Seaweed (Floyd), Mademoiselle Clown (Rook), Leaf bug (Miyuu)

quotes:

“What am I doing? Well, I'm counting clouds. It sounds boring but it's lots of fun, I totally recommen— Hey?! Why are you walking away?!”

Personality

At first glance, Lily seems to be innocent and naive, but she is still a fae from the Oniric Rainforest, a place known for its mystical and mischievous creatures. She is a playful person who loves playing tricks on people and talking in ambiguous ways that leave others confused. She also finds it fun to pretend to be dumb, when in fact she's secretly really smart.

It's easy to get along with her, but you have to be careful not to believe 100% in what she says. She likes riddles and puzzles and expresses herself or her thoughts through either weird metaphors or by using sarcasm that sounds genuine. It is hard to know when she is joking and when she's not.

But Lily is not that complex, it's just her nature to act in a more playful way, she just wants to have fun and thinks her way of acting will also bring fun to other people. She likes teasing others, but if she sees that she has hurt someone, she'll immediately stop and apologize.

When she is upset, Lily becomes quiet and distant, seeming to be in an entirely different place inside of her head.

She is obsessed with astronomy and when someone awakens her love for it, she gets extremely excited, rambling about stars, planets, galaxies, the universe, etc. Lily gets really happy when people actually listen or are invested in what she says, loving to share an interest of hers to others.

Background

Her father, Levi, is a water fae and her mother, Rosario, is a wood fae. Lily is their only child.

Her parents were always fighting, always stressed by their own personal lives, and the overall mood of the household was dark, sorrowful. Levi was fond of Space though, and he enjoyed taking Lily to go stargazing. Ever since she was very young, she was enamored with the stars.

Lily's first memory with stargazing was unforgettable. She remembers she was very upset that day and couldn't stop crying because she was the reason her parents had fought. Not wanting his daughter to be sad, Levi took her to see how beautiful the sky looked that night. For the first time in her life, Lily had seen something that wasn't gloomy nor dark, but shining so bright that it had touched her heart. Just as she was looking at the stars, the stars were looking back at her, embracing her with all their warm and beautiful luster.

Lily imagined how it would be like to be there, shining right next to the Moon. She wanted to be like the stars, who make people happier, who brighten people's moods even when everything seems to be horrible, even when the entire world seems to be so dark and so lonely.

Although, because of her mischievous nature, she eventually found a more playful way to shine and bring joy: by making others laugh.

Trivia

Her age is counted in human years because her mother is half-human and half-fae so Lily is not 100% fae. (i had to humanize Lily bc fae years are just so complicated 😭)

Lily mispronounces Diasomnia for Dysnomia, the name of a moon. Sebek keeps correcting her, but she never gets it right. (she's doing it on purpose)

She can breathe underwater.

Lily is very interested in scientific theories and loves debating about them. (ex: wormhole theory, panspermia theory, things like that)

She is the class clown. She keeps asking the most outrageously stupid questions to the teachers and manages to make the entire class laugh. (except for Sebek, lmao)

Lily never met Malleus but she would probably call him her broski.

If anyone is curious, the Victoria Water Lily myth tells the story of a woman who drowned after leaning towards a river to touch the reflection of the Moon, since she was in love with the Moon. The Moon (or Goddess of the Moon) was known for choosing women and turning them into stars, but to honor that woman who drowned, the Moon turned her into a Victoria Regia (water lily), which is known as the "Star of the waters".

[shinne55]

**Silent Confession**

Victor Grantz x Reader

Summary: Victor receives an anonymous letter on Valentine's Day.

Words in a conversation come and go: lies that hurt and secrets between paragraphs. Speaking in person is too complex. That’s why Victor took this job—nothing can escape in a letter. There are no hidden meanings; everything can be said from the depth of the heart. So, as a postman, he has the faithful task of delivering each letter to its destination.

It’s an honest and satisfying job. Happy, sad, bitter, or innocent faces hide behind every writer and their recipient. For the young man who didn’t speak, a letter is the purest and most sincere thing, more than an entire face-to-face conversation.

During the holidays, when the letters fill the mailbox, the busier he gets and the less time he has. Christmas, New Year, and birthdays follow, but above all, Valentine’s Day. A complicated date for a small postman, but highly appreciated by those who wish to find love. Knowing that within each envelope there is a destiny in motion made his young heart flutter.

Even though Victor had worked in his community for several months, he didn’t know the people by their names but by their letters.

The mother who writes with beautiful handwriting, pressing the pencil firmly as she writes to her husband and children away from the city.

The little ones who presumably write to Santa with scribbles and drawings.

And the lovers with their colored papers and perfumes.

On Valentine’s Day, the latter group increases noticeably.

During one of those nights, when he arrived home with his companion, Wick, a small dog that follows him everywhere, changed out of his uniform, and got ready to sleep, right after hanging his jacket and emptying his bag, a letter fell to the floor. Immediately, his eyes widened, and he looked inside his bag. It was the only letter that had slipped in the entire day, stuck with a cheap seal on the wall. A small square letter in a vermilion envelope with no name or address.

His eyebrows furrowed, and, determined to violate the author’s privacy, he opened the letter.

**To the postman

Thank you for your hard work**

No sender, no signature. An anonymous letter.

Was that it? A letter for him?

A thank you that would seem crude and silly to anyone else, but to the young mailman, a true feeling of recognition struck his chest, and immediately his cheeks turned peachy with happiness.

That night, he lay on his bed, thinking about the author. Whether it was a joke or not, he didn’t care. It moved him enough to appreciate the message. He slept with the letter open on his nightstand, and in the following days, when he returned home tired from work, he would look at that letter on his desk, under the bedside light. And his chest swelled with confidence.

The next of many letters came two weeks later. Same paper, same handwriting, and no sender.

**Dear postman

I don’t know if my letter really reached you. But I truly hope it did. Thank you for your service, without you, the community would have no real connection.**

The boy could feel the interaction as a small comfort or recognition, making him feel that his effort and dedication didn’t go unnoticed. If only he had their name, he would write them a thank-you letter. Sadly, many of these letters were taken from the mailbox. And very few were delivered directly to him.

Victor is, among many of the postman in his town, just another worker, and he didn’t have much speaking ability. He relied on listening and reading lost letters and pleasant conversations. Even so, he didn’t go unnoticed by some. Over time, he earned the trust of the older writers and neighbors who had the habit of writing almost daily and waiting for his response. So, thanks to that first letter, perhaps, Victor gained more confidence.

A couple of months later, with a one-sided connection on his part, and after several failed attempts to identify the address of the sender, he gave up and settled on reading them when he left work. A routine of preparing a cold glass of milk on the small table next to his bed, taking a couple of sips while reading these letters, which over time became longer. With little everyday things like the weather, funny town events, and annual celebrations. Until, weeks before Christmas, the last letter arrived.

**To the Dear Postman Victor**

He smiled. After several months, they had finally used his name in the letter, and that one-sided connection became more intimate. Sometimes it started with, *"My favorite postman,"* or a formal, *"Dear Victor."* All very polite until the author began recounting their day-to-day life. He knew much more about her life than his own. Everything except her name.

Calmly, with his dog snoring at the foot of the bed, he continued reading:

**"I’m sorry for sending these strange letters for so long. The truth is, I just wanted someone to talk to."**

Victor stopped reading and straightened his back against the headboard of the bed:

**"My mother passed away months ago, and my father three years ago. I’ve felt so alone, but the idea that someone would read one of these letters, and that it would be you, brings me comfort. But it’s also likely that I scared you or someone else. I’m truly sorry. It won’t happen again."**

No more letters arrived.

Was something happening to her during these months when she didn’t write? Was she feeling lonely and planning to do something drastic?

For many days, he was afraid. He knew loneliness and what it did to people firsthand. But it felt far worse knowing he couldn’t do anything to help her change her mind.

He waited a day, then a week, but that vermilion-colored paper, with those homemade seals, didn’t appear in any mailbox in the city. Victor was the only one responsible for collecting letters in that area, so it didn’t make sense for them not to show up.

“Are you looking for someone who lost her mother this year?” an old woman from the bakery he regularly visited asked. “Hmm, there’s a girl, yes. She hasn’t been seen lately. She usually comes to shop during the week. On Tuesdays, I think.”

*During the week—that’s when my shift begins, and I pick up the letters,* Victor thought.

Despite being reserved, the concern on his face and his written manner prompted the woman to share more details.

**[Who is she?]**

It was good he had his notebook on hand to communicate. Even though his hand trembled, and his writing was messy, the woman understood what he wanted to ask.

**[YN]**

**[Where does she live?]** he wrote quickly. Wrapped in his winter uniform and a scarf, he hid his nervousness with the cold.

“On Central Avenue, four blocks down.”

He grabbed his pencil again and wrote:

**[Do you know if she has any relatives or friends in the city?]**

The question puzzled the woman, and she hesitated to answer.

“You look like a good boy. You remind me of my grandson. No, she lives alone as far as I know. You know, he wasn't a... very good man. The poor girl has been accompanying her mother in mourning ever since. ”

Victor was already running, fast, faster than when he tried to deliver late packages or when chasing Wick for stealing his parcels.

He abandoned his usual calm demeanor and ran toward the address the woman had mentioned, clinging to hope. And there it was—a small house with a well-kept garden separating Victor from her. It was winter now, and a layer of snow covered everything in pristine white—the streets, rivers, and even her garden.

*Should I do this?* He didn’t know her in person, but after ten months of letters, he felt like he had known her his whole life.

Even so, he knocked gently, not brave enough to ring the doorbell further ahead.

Although she might not feel the same. Although she might think she was bothering him, Victor waited for her letter every day. He wanted to know about her life, every little detail. He wanted to hear her laugh, cry, and see her in person.

And even if they had never met before—

“Hello?”

He wanted to be by her side.

What words could he offer? What could he say when he had never spoken to her before?

“Victor?”

As he stood there, sweating, lungs and brain on the verge of collapsing, he stopped and saw her—you—for the first time. Just as he had imagined and more. His words couldn’t describe the wave of emotions he felt seeing you there, safe.

You were surprised it was him. He didn’t know your name or your address. That’s why you never included it. You had overthought it, assuming it would be awkward—and it was.

When Victor extended his arms with several letters in hand and a determined expression, your face shifted to concern and embarrassment.

“So, you read them all. I’m sorry.”

Quickly, he held the letters tightly to his chest, and his expression seemed to tell you not to apologize. Victor leaned down, his gaze full of tenderness, more so than Wick’s by his side. Somehow, the way his eyes reminded you of summer leaves and his hair of sunlight made you feel undeserving of something so good.

“You don’t know anything about me, you only know me through those silly letters.”

He shook his head, his eyebrows raising in protest. *Silly? Not at all.* When you saw him take out his notebook and scribble something with a pencil, you were puzzled to read it.

**[I know the girl who loves iced coffee at night, who loves animals as much as I love Wick.]**

“Please, go. You’re not doing any good staying here.”

You were about to turn and shut the door when Wick bit at the fabric of your pants. You tried shaking him off, only for Victor to grab your wrist.

His mouth trembled, his lips pressing together before forming anything more than a murmur. It felt cruel to turn your back on someone who, despite his disability, was trying to help you.

“I… like you.”

No one had ever heard him speak. People assumed he couldn’t. He spoke clumsily when it came to you, but he spoke. His voice, breathless yet soft, like cream in coffee, melted your heart to hear it.

“No! It’s impossible. No one could love me. You’re lying.”

Why wouldn’t anyone love you? Who had made you believe that? If someone thought they could never be loved that way, Victor assumed it would have been him—not someone like you.

He searched his pockets, his gaze panicking until Wick barked and placed an envelope on the ground. Victor patted his head and handed it to you.

Vermilion—the color of your letters. However, this one had a sender.

**To YN, from Victor.**

**[You opened your heart to me, YN, in a way no one else ever has. And now, I have to give you mine.]**

“Victor…” You clutched the letter.

He gave you a broken smile, encouraging you to read it fully.

**[You will live a long life, YN, watching the sunset every evening. You won’t ever be alone again. I just need one thing.]**

The letter ended there.

“But what is it that you want?”

He pointed to himself. He placed his hands, loosely balled into fists, over his heart, as if hugging something precious. Then, he took your hands and intertwined them over your chest.

“I don’t understand… Why? Aren’t you tired of hearing from me and reading about me?”

He wrote something else in his notebook:

**[I could listen to you my entire life.]**

You didn’t fully understand, but with him, words weren’t necessary.

**[I’ve met many people in my life, but none like you. I found you, YN. I won’t let you go. I love you.]**

You felt foolish. Every emotion you’d suppressed spilled out like crystalline pearls. You couldn’t say anything, but you hugged him like you’d always been searching for him, while he had been waiting for you.

In that moment, Victor knew he had found love in your silence.

[melancholicmelanin]

Compress/Repress | Chapter 3: Guess Who’s Watching

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Black!OC x Patrick Zweig, Tashi Duncan x Black!OC (Platonic)

Summary: The 2006 Junior US Open winner has been crowned, but Tashi and Maya are on a covert mission—sneaking into the Adidas party, dodging their shared father, and keeping their bond as secret sisters under wraps. What they didn’t expect was to catch the attention of the dynamic duo known as Fire and Ice.

Wordcount: 6.1k

Warning(s): Challengers spoilers, mild cursing, a non american writing americans, self edited and no beta.

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LONG ISLAND, NEW YORK - AUGUST 30, 2006

“Are we seriously sneaking into your own party?” Maya whispered, her voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore nearby. Her gaze caught between Tashi and the impending scene unfolding before them. The whole setup—the lavish house, the gourmet food, Tashi’s face plastered across banners and posters beside the iconic Adidas logo. Maya’s heart thudded in her, her nerves prickling, but mixed with that unease was a thrill she hadn’t anticipated feeling tonight.

Tashi’s lips curled into a grin, one that was both endearing and maddeningly confident. She reached forward, gently brushing a wayward leaf out of Maya’s wild curls, her fingers lingering as she tried to tame the unruly strands. “It’s technically not my party,” she corrected, her voice full of playful defiance. “Adidas threw it for me, so really, it’s all the more reason for you to be here.”

Maya groaned softly, tugging at her curls, which had frizzed up in the humid, salty air. “I just wish it didn’t have to be a secret,” she murmured, her voice soft but heavy with the weight of everything they were hiding. The words lingered between them, a reminder of the complicated reality they both faced.

Tashi stilled for a moment, her playful expression dimming as she felt the sadness beneath Maya’s words. She’d noticed the anxious energy radiating from her half-sister since the idea of this trip was first discussed. Yet here they were, crouched in a secret hideaway by the dunes, the ocean breeze tangling through their hair as Tashi’s fingers gently combed through Maya’s curls. In that moment, Tashi felt an ache for the relationship they never had—a childhood full of shared memories, secrets, and adventures, the way sisters were supposed to have. Now, on the cusp of one of the biggest moments in her life, she couldn’t help but wish it didn’t have to be hidden from everyone who mattered.

But even with the shadows of their circumstances hanging over them, Tashi couldn’t imagine celebrating any other way. Not without Maya.

“Alright,” Tashi declared, shaking off the sombreness and flashing Maya a determined grin. “Here’s the plan.” Her voice had taken on that confident, upbeat tone that Maya both admired and envied. “We’re here to have fun. No nervous jitters, and definitely no acting like you’re worried about my dad or Tabby and Winston finding out.”

Maya swallowed hard, her hands twisting together. “Who said I’m nervous?” she protested, but her voice wavered, betraying her.

Tashi raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Girl…” she teased, her tone filled with sisterly affection.

Maya rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. The tension in her shoulders loosened, just a little, as Tashi’s humour worked its magic.

“Now, hold on,” Tashi said, her grin turning conspiratorial. She rummaged in her small crossbody bag and pulled out a miniature champagne bottle. The gold foil glinted in the moonlight, and she waggled it in front of Maya. “I’ve got just the thing to loosen you up.”

Maya’s eyes widened. “Wait… we’re actually doing this?” she said, feeling the giddy thrill build up in her chest. “Like, we’re really about to pre-game an Adidas party?”

Tashi threw her head back and laughed, a wild, free sound that seemed to dance on the breeze. “Yes, we’re fucking doing this!” She popped the champagne bottle open with a soft hiss, and bubbles spilled out over her hand.

Maya accepted the small, hastily poured plastic cup of champagne, her hands trembling in the process. “What if we get caught drunk?” she whispered, her voice a frantic rush. “And they call my grandparents? They’d ground me for life if they found out.”

Tashi’s eyes softened, but she gave a small, confident shake of her head. “They won’t find out,” she reassured her. “I promise.” She raised her cup, her voice gentle but full of conviction. “Besides, I wanted you here. You’re not just some outsider tonight—you’re my sister.”

Maya’s throat tightened with emotion, the word sister settling deep into her chest, warm and heavy. She hadn’t expected to feel this way. The joy, the love, the bond she’d craved for so long—it was all here, wrapped up in Tashi’s laughter and the unspoken promise that they would always have each other’s backs.

“To us,” Tashi said, holding up her cup with a twinkle in her eye.

Maya took a deep breath, her nerves still fluttering but her heart a little steadier. She clinked her cup against Tashi’s, a genuine smile breaking through. “To… us.”

And with that, they took a swig of champagne, the fizzy sweetness tickling Maya’s nose and making her giggle. The anticipation buzzed in the air as Tashi grabbed her hand, and together, they stepped out of the shadows, ready to embrace whatever the night held.

The music thumped louder and louder as Tashi and Maya stepped further into the heart of the party. A dreamscape of celebration sprawled across the Long Island's coastline, where every inch of the beach house’s backyard had been transformed into an oasis of glitz and glamour. The checkerboard vinyl dance floor gleamed under the glow of twinkling string lights suspended in a zigzag pattern across the venue. Outdoor furniture, chic and white, framed the dance floor, and lush potted plants lined the perimeter, swaying gently in the salty sea breeze. The sound of waves lapping the shore played as an undertone to the infectious rhythm blasting from the DJ booth.

Maya felt her pulse quicken. Tashi was already in her element, the vibrant blue strapless mini dress provided by the Adidas team hugging her figure perfectly as she sashayed through the partygoers. She exuded a confidence that made her untouchable, like she belonged in this glittering world of tennis champions and luxury. Maya, on the other hand, tugged at the hem of her own dress, a delicate, soft pink dress that embodied a balance of romantic and playful charm (or that’s what Tabitha said at the Bulmarine sample sale). Blend in, she reminded herself. She was supposed to be invisible, just another guest in a sea of faces.

“Just breathe, Maya,” Tashi murmured, squeezing her sister’s hand. Her voice was calm and steady, like an anchor in the swirling storm of sensations. “Remember, you belong here as much as anyone.”

They made their way toward the bustling center of the party, past clusters of people dressed in designer cocktail attire. Tashi moved like a force of nature, greeting people with quick waves and dazzling smiles, but never lingering long enough for anyone to ask questions about her plus-one. It was clear she had only one goal tonight: making sure Maya felt safe and included.

After a moment, Tashi leaned close. “Come on, let’s find my brothers. You have to meet Demitrius and Kenan.”

Maya’s heart skipped a beat. Her brothers—half-brothers, technically, but it didn’t matter. The idea of meeting them was nerve-wracking and exhilarating. Ahead of them, at a sleek outdoor bar adorned with miniature potted succulents and lit by Edison bulbs, two familiar figures were laughing over bottles of soda. Demetrius, with his lanky fourteen-year-old frame and mischievous grin, was nudging his younger brother, Kenan, who still carried that last hint of childhood roundness in his face. Kenan, in his middle school glory, had a mouthful of braces that gleamed as he tried and failed at his turn at cornhole.

“Kenan! Demetrius!” Tashi called, her voice bright and full of warmth.

The boys turned, Demetrius with his signature, slightly older-brother smirk, and Kenan with wide eyes full of youthful energy. “Shy-Shy!” Demetrius exclaimed, his sister’s nickname familiar on his lips and immediately setting down his soda to greet her. He had an air of teenage coolness about him, but his voice still held the excitement of a kid.

“The lady from Adidas said the soda here is unlimited! Can you believe it?” Kenan exclaimed excitedly, his braces catching the light as he grinned at Tashi. His eyes then shifted to Maya, his expression morphing into one of curiosity. “Oh, hello!”

“And who’s this?” Demitrius asked further, his tone cautious yet open to the stranger stood next to his sister.

Tashi draped an arm around Maya’s shoulders, her grin never faltering. “This,” she announced, “is Maya. She’s a really good friend from tennis camp.”

Maya’s heart thumped in her chest; her palms clammy. She felt Demetrius’s gaze appraising her, though not unkindly, and Kenan’s childlike wonder at meeting someone new. She forced herself to speak, her voice steadier than she’d expected. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you both.”

Demetrius gave her a nod, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. “Cool to meet you,” he said, and Maya could tell he was trying to be mature, the way a fourteen-year-old boy does when he wants to impress. “Any friend of Tashi’s is a friend of ours.”

Kenan, however, had no filter. He looked between Maya and Tashi, his brow furrowed. “Tashi never lets us meet her tennis friends. Are you, like… super important or something?”

Maya flushed, her cheeks heating up under Kenan’s scrutiny. I mean, yeah, Kenan. I’m your sister for god’s sake. She was saved by Tashi’s laugh, a bright, musical sound that cut through the tension. “Yes, she’s incredibly important,” Tashi said, her eyes twinkling with affection as she nudged Kenan. “And it’s not like every person I’ve met through tennis was worth keeping in touch with, anyways.”

Kenan beamed, looking satisfied with that answer, and Demetrius rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright,” he drawled. “So, you’re here to party or what?” Demetrius asked, his arms rose into the air in an awkward swagger.

“Yeah!” Tashi replied excitedly, pushing the shadow of worry away. “We’re here to party. Forget the speeches about “how thankful I am to be a pillar of the community”. Just music, dancing, and maybe a little mischief.”

Demetrius’s lips curled into a smirk. “Mischief? You? Never.”

Kenan perked up. “Mischief? Can I be part of it?”

Tashi pulled both her brothers into a loose huddle, including Maya in the circle. “Only if you guys promise not to rat me out to Dad if we get caught.”

Kenan’s eyes widened with excitement. “Deal!”

Maya leaned closer to Tashi, whispering, “You really have them wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”

Tashi’s smile softened, a touch of melancholy there. “Yeah,” she whispered back. “They’re my boys. Always have been. Always will be.”

As they made their way to the checkerboard dance floor, Tashi’s father, Kevin, was deep in conversation with his wife, Crystal, and an Adidas recruiter. The recruiter’s voice was animated, hands gesturing wildly as he pitched ideas for Tashi’s future, and for a moment, Tashi’s smile wavered. Maya saw it—the flicker of apprehension, the shadow of pressure that came with being a rising star under the ever-watchful eye of a parent. But then Tashi shook it off, her determination steely, and pulled Maya into the crowd.

The music swelled, transitioning into Venus by Bananarama, and the dance floor erupted in cheers. Maya found herself caught in the rhythm, Tashi’s laughter like a shield that protected them both from the world beyond. They danced with abandon, spinning and swaying, the worries of their lives melting away under the glow of the string lights.

Maya’s head buzzed with a mixture of adrenaline and the lingering taste of champagne, and she felt, for a fleeting moment, free. This was what she had come for—this wild, exhilarating night, where nothing else mattered but the beat of the music and the warmth of her sister by her side.

“Look at you!” Tashi shouted over the music, her eyes bright with pride. “Told you this would be fun!”

Maya threw her head back and laughed, the sound coming from deep within her chest. “Okay, okay! You were right!”

The night air wrapped around them like a velvet blanket, and the dance floor felt electric beneath Maya’s feet. Tashi glanced over at her sister, a grin stretching across her lips as she saw how utterly transformed Maya seemed. The girl who was usually burdened with nerves had let herself go, laughter bubbling from her in a way that felt both wild and free. Her cheeks flushed with the heat of the dance, and her hair caught the light, a cascade of movement as she spun to the beat. Maya’s eyes sparkled with an excitement that made her seem almost airborne, like she could lift off into the sky at any moment.

Tashi couldn’t help but marvel. This was a side of Maya she rarely got to see—radiant, unrestrained, and completely alive.

Meanwhile, across the checkerboard vinyl dance floor, Art and Patrick sat transfixed, barely blinking as they watched the scene unfold. Maya moved with a kind of natural grace, her carefree energy impossible to ignore. She was magnetic, drawing eyes with an almost hypnotic allure, and the boys couldn’t help but be pulled into her orbit. Art shifted in his position, his breath catching slightly, while Patrick’s heart pounded with something he couldn’t quite name.

Maya, catching the feeling of being observed, turned with a playful twirl, her gaze landing on the two spellbound boys. They looked stunned, like they’d forgotten the concept of subtlety entirely. Her laughter faltered just a fraction, unable to decipher their intense stares fixed on her from across the dance floor. Her chest tightened, a familiar twinge of self-consciousness surfacing as if a cold breeze had swept through the warm, electric night. She dropped her arms a little, her body’s natural rhythm interrupted, and she shifted closer to Tashi, her smile dimming ever so slightly.

Tashi, ever attuned to her sister’s moods, caught the hesitation instantly. She turned to see what had made Maya nervous and rolled her eyes as she spotted Art and Patricks’ slack-jawed admiration. With a mischievous glint, she grabbed Maya’s hand and leaned in close, her voice a playful whisper. “Hey, don’t let a couple of boys steal your light,” she said. “If they want a show, let’s give them something to remember.”

Maya bit her lip, her nerves dancing alongside the beat of the music. “I don’t know…” she murmured, her gaze darting between Tashi and the boys. The idea of being the center of attention made her stomach flip, but there was something about Tashi’s energy—unwavering, unapologetic—that was infectious.

Tashi squeezed Maya’s hand and stepped back with a grin that radiated confidence. “Come on, we’ve got this,” she urged. She lifted her arms above her head, rolling her hips to the beat, her movements bold and full of flair. “Besides,” Tashi added with a wicked grin, “we look amazing. Let’s make sure everyone knows it.”

Maya hesitated for a beat, but then a rush of courage sparked within her. With a deep breath, she pushed the nerves aside and lifted her chin. If Tashi could be fearless, so could she. Slowly, Maya let herself melt back into the rhythm, matching her sister’s confident movements. The music pulsed through her veins, and she began to sway with purpose, her steps more deliberate, her energy more vibrant. Together, they became a mesmerizing force on the dance floor, radiating an electric kind of joy.

The boys’ attention only seemed to fuel them further. Tashi spun gracefully, her laughter ringing out like music, while Maya followed suit, a blush dusting her cheeks but her smile growing wider, bolder. They danced for themselves but couldn’t help embracing the thrill of being watched, of turning what had been awkward nerves into a moment of power and playfulness.

“See?” Tashi called over the music, her eyes gleaming with pride as she watched Maya’s confidence blossom. “You’re unstoppable.”

Maya beamed, her heart no longer pounding with fear but with exhilaration. “Okay,” she said, her voice light and free, “let’s show them what we’re made of.”

And they did—dancing with a newfound radiance, letting the energy of the night carry them, savoring every bit of the attention they once feared, transforming it into their own kind of magic.

Patrick's gaze lingered, captivated by the way the slinky blush-pink dress clung to Maya’s body, the delicate material riding up slightly as she moved, each motion accentuating her curves. Her skin glistened with a subtle sheen of sweat, catching the golden glow of the string lights strung up around the backyard. Her wild curls whipped around in the breeze, framing her flushed, exhilarated face. He couldn’t help but be drawn to her, the way she seemed both graceful and free, as if she belonged in that moment, like the world had been crafted just for her dance.

Art exhaled sharply beside him, the awe in his voice evident. “Oh my God,” he whispered, eyes wide with admiration, a hint of disbelief that someone could be so effortlessly captivating.

“Fuck,” Patrick echoed, but his was more a low, hungry murmur, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight before him. His heart thudded in his chest as he watched Tashi slide her hands around Maya’s waist, pulling her close with an ease that spoke of years of familiarity and trust. The two girls moved together in perfect rhythm, bodies swaying to the beat, their laughter mingling with the music, the joy in their shared dance lighting up the space around them.

Patrick’s smirk deepened. He had watched Tashi command the tennis court with a kind of fierce determination, but seeing her here, away from the competition and pressure, so carefree and happy, was a different kind of spellbinding. And then there was Maya, who had quietly snuck into his consciousness, her presence growing more magnetic by the second. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was captivating in a way he hadn’t expected. A challenge, perhaps, and he loved a good challenge.

Art nudged Patrick with his elbow, finally pulling his gaze away from the girls. “Man, you look like you’re about to float over there,” Art teased, his voice tinged with envy and a hint of something else—admiration, maybe. “What’s gotten into you?”

Patrick’s grin only widened as he shook his head, eyes flicking back to Maya, who had now broken into a wide, uninhibited laugh. “Just…appreciating the view,” he replied, his voice light but laced with intent. “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

Art glanced at him, eyebrows raised, and then back at the dance floor where Maya and Tashi spun and twirled like they owned the night. “You mean they’re something else,” Art corrected, though his eyes kept drifting to Maya. There was a palpable pull, a magnetic tension that neither boy could deny.

Patrick's gaze softened for a moment as he watched Tashi’s protective hold on Maya, the way she shielded her sister from the world even while drawing her into the centre of it. He admired Tashi’s fierceness, but he was also intrigued by the vulnerability he sensed between the two girls—the way they seemed to be each other’s universe in this small, wild moment of freedom.

“Yeah,” Patrick finally said, his voice a little more serious. “They definitely are.”

For a heartbeat, he thought about pushing his luck, making his way onto the dance floor to introduce himself. But something held him back—maybe it was the realization that either of the girls were out of his league. That he was wasting not only his time, but also theirs by even speaking to them for 5 minutes. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning, that somehow, this night had tied all of them together, and he was desperate to see how the story would unfold.

Seeing Kevin and Crystal approach the dance floor, Tashi grabbed Maya’s hand in a flash, her eyes wide with a playful panic. “We’re busted,” she whispered, a laugh bubbling up as she tugged Maya away from the crowd. The two sisters weaved through the swaying dancers, the vinyl checkerboard floor beneath them slick from spilled champagne and salty air.

Maya’s heart raced, but it wasn’t just from the sprint or the thrill of sneaking around. It was the prospect of being caught, of her secret presence at Tashi’s celebratory night being exposed to her disapproving father. “Tash, wait!” she whispered, nearly tripping over her own feet as her sister pulled her along. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here!” Tashi shot back, her grin mischievous. Her strands glided in the air with every hurried step, her dress glittering under the string lights like a constellation come to life.

Just as they were about to round a corner and slip behind a decorative hedge, they almost collided with someone—a tall boy with tousled dark brown hair and a confident smirk: Patrick. Art stood just behind him, hands shoved into his pockets, his dark eyes gleaming with interest.

“Whoa, running from the law?” Patrick teased, stepping into their path. His eyes flicked between the sisters, his smile a blend of curiosity and amusement. “Or is it Daddy dearest?”

Tashi paused for the briefest moment, but her energy never wavered. “You could say that,” she said, breathless from the escape. She leaned into the chaos of the moment, her confidence unwavering, while Maya tried to collect herself, the tension knotting in her stomach.

Patrick’s grin widened, and he gestured over his shoulder. “I know a spot,” he offered. “Quiet, away from prying eyes. Perfect for a getaway.”

Maya’s eyes darted to Tashi, silently pleading for her to reconsider. Being alone with two boys she barely knew in an unfamiliar place? Her heart thumped in protest, and a thousand reasons to say no flashed through her mind. But Tashi was already nodding, her eagerness for adventure propelling her forward.

“Lead the way,” Tashi said, leaving no room for debate. She tugged Maya closer, her grip firm and full of determination.

Maya opened her mouth to protest, but Tashi’s bright, carefree energy was overpowering. Her sister’s eyes sparkled with the thrill of something dangerous, something memorable. Despite herself, Maya found her resolve crumbling.

Patrick and Art led the way, guiding them off the dance floor and down a narrow stone pathway that wound through the outdoor garden. The music from the party grew muffled, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the rhythmic crash of waves in the distance. The beach house’s elegant decor faded away, giving way to nature’s raw beauty.

Patrick took the lead, his stride confident, while Art walked a step behind, silent but attentive. The moonlit path they took wove between dunes and tufts of tall grass, the string lights of the party fading into soft, distant glows. Maya’s feet sank slightly into the cool sand, and she shivered, feeling exposed yet exhilarated by the cool ocean breeze brushing her skin.

When they reached a secluded spot on the beach—a little cove marked by large rocks and a pair of beach chairs that looked out over the glittering sea—Tashi let out an excited breath, dropping Maya’s hand and spinning in a circle. She was radiant, wild, and so alive that it made Maya’s chest ache with admiration and worry.

Patrick, ever the charmer, wasted no time diving into introductions. “Patrick Zweig,” he said, flashing a grin that seemed to demand applause. His hand gestured loosely toward himself, the motion so casual it bordered on cocky. Art, perched on one of the beach chairs with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets, offered a quieter addition. “And I’m Art Donaldson,” he said, his tone calm but watchful, lips curving just slightly.

Tashi tilted her head, her expression one of playful disinterest. “Oh, I know exactly who you two are,” she said, dragging out her words as if delivering a punchline. Her gaze swept over them, lingering just long enough to set both boys on edge. “Fire and Ice, right?”

Art blinked, visibly startled. “Oh my god,” he muttered, his composure cracking just enough to show surprise.

Patrick’s grin only grew wider, his confidence unshaken. “In the flesh,” he replied smoothly, tossing a glance at Art that was equal parts teasing and triumphant.

Tashi smirked. “Yeah, I heard you’re playing for Stanford next year,” she said, shifting her focus to Art.

“How’d you…?” Art asked, genuinely curious, though his tone hinted at suspicion at the possibility of thee Tashi Duncan pursuing information on him.

“I just accepted my offer,” Tashi replied breezily, nonchalantly tossing her pin straight hair behind her shoulders. “Your name came up.”

“Wait, are you going to Stanford too?” Patrick asked, turning to Maya, his curiosity now piqued by the quieter sister.

Before Maya could answer, Tashi jumped in, her grin turning wicked. “Maya? No, she’s just a baby!” she cooed in an exaggerated voice, the same one she used when teasing her younger brothers.

Maya groaned, her cheeks flushing. “What she means is I’m still in high school,” she corrected, her voice sharp with embarrassment. “I’m starting my senior year next semester.”

Patrick chuckled, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “A baby, huh? Guess I’ll have to call you ‘Kiddo’ from now on.”

Maya, desperate to shift the conversation away from her age, latched onto their nickname. “Fire and Ice?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “What is that—some kind of boy band?”

Patrick laughed, his confidence undiminished. “You could say that” he said, shooting a pointed look at Art. “So, who’s who?”

Maya pretended to study them, letting her gaze flick between the two. Patrick’s bright, easy energy contrasted starkly with Art’s quieter, more reserved demeanour. “You’re Fire,” she declared, pointing at Patrick. “And you’re Ice,” she added, nodding toward Art.

Patrick clutched his chest in mock offense. “Fire? Me? I thought I was the chill one!”

Art’s lips twitched into a rare smile. “I’ve been called worse,” he said, his voice low and dry, but his eyes carried a flicker of amusement.

Art leaned forward in his beach chair, curiosity sparking in his dark eyes. “So, how do you two know each other?” he asked, his voice soft but probing. There was something almost innocent in the way he asked, yet Maya and Tashi exchanged a quick, loaded glance that spoke volumes. They had to think on their feet.

Maya hesitated for a fraction of a second, her mind scrambling, but Tashi was already smiling, that mischievous glint lighting up her eyes. “Oh, it’s a long story,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself as she shielded herself from the cold breeze. “We met in, uh… Paris,” Tashi began, drawing out the word as though she were savouring the memory.

Maya picked up on the fib, her heart pounding, but a smile began to curl at her lips. “Yeah, that’s right,” she added, the lie shaping itself as she spoke. “I was studying at this tiny art school. You know, the type of place that barely exists on a map.”

Tashi nodded sagely. “And I was there for tennis camp,” she continued, her voice dripping with the dramatic flair she was known for. “We ran into each other at this café near the Seine, didn’t we?” She nudged Maya, who nodded, trying not to laugh. “It was raining. Maya had forgotten her umbrella, and I offered to share mine.”

Maya’s eyes twinkled with mirth as she added, “It was fate. One cup of hot chocolate later, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.” There was a teasing, unspoken implication in their exchange, and it lingered in the air between them, charged and intriguing. The way Tashi kept Maya close, the way their gazes danced around each other—it was all deliberate, adding an extra layer of mystery.

Patrick chuckled, clearly entertained. “Let me guess,” he said, his grin widening. “Love at first sight?”

Tashi gave Maya a mock-swooning look, placing her hand over her heart. “Absolutely. I couldn’t resist her charm,” she teased. Maya rolled her eyes but laughed, her nerves easing with the flow of their banter.

Art seemed to buy it, looking between them with genuine interest, while Patrick tilted his head, smirking. “So, Paris, huh?” He let out a low whistle. “Well, that’s something.” Patrick’s eyes narrowed playfully as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on Maya. “So, are you a tennis player too?” he asked, his tone casual, but the way his eyes lingered on her made it clear he meant something more. “You’ve got the body for it.”

Maya’s cheeks flushed, the tension in the air suddenly sharp. Before she could respond, Tashi jumped in, her voice cutting through the moment like a lifeline. “Oh, please,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Coming from Maya’s kind of background, you’d think she’d be amazing at tennis. But no—she sucks at sports.”

Maya exhaled a small laugh, grateful for Tashi’s intervention. “Yeah, hand-eye coordination isn’t really my thing,” she said, shrugging lightly. “But I make up for it in other ways.”

Patrick flicked his lighter open, lighting the cigarette perched between his fingers before turning to Tashi, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “So, about the Stanford thing,” he said, his tone casual but pointed.

Tashi arched a brow, clearly caught off guard by the shift in conversation. “What about it?” she asked, leaning back slightly, her tone cool but wary.

Patrick took a long drag, exhaling a plume of smoke that drifted lazily in the night air. He passed the lighter to Art, who took it without a word. “What’s the deal?” Patrick asked, his words deliberately vague but weighted with insinuation.

Tashi tilted her head, the sharpness in her gaze cutting through the haze of smoke. “What do you mean, what’s the deal?” she said, her tone edging on defensive.

Patrick shrugged, flicking ash from his cigarette. “I mean, what’s your angle?” he clarified, his voice laced with curiosity but tinged with provocation.

Tashi’s eyes narrowed, but she kept her composure. “I wanna get better, obviously,” she replied, her words clipped but steady.

“By crushing a bunch of girls who were the best players in their high schools?” Patrick shot back, his smirk growing as he leaned into the challenge.

Tashi’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t waver. “You know, they offer classes at college,” she countered, her tone turning dry. “I’d rather not have hitting a ball with a racket be my only marketable skill.”

Patrick’s brows lifted slightly, a spark of understanding flickering in his expression. “Oh, I get it now,” he said, leaning forward slightly as if the realization had just clicked into place.

Tashi’s eyes narrowed further, her interest piqued despite her irritation. “Get what?” she asked cautiously.

Patrick’s grin turned sly. “It’s smart. You’re making them wait for you. You want all these girls you’ve been annihilating in juniors to go pro, have their little moment in the sun, and then—bam—you swoop in like, ‘Remember me?’” He gestured with his cigarette for emphasis, his voice carrying a note of admiration despite its teasing edge.

Tashi rolled her eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“And trust me,” Patrick continued, his smirk widening. “They will remember you. You’re the fucking Duncanator.”

Tashi scoffed, finally breaking her silence. “Is this why you came to my party?” she asked, her tone flat and unimpressed. “To interview me like you’re working for ESPN?”

Patrick chuckled, unbothered by her irritation. “It’s brilliant,” he said, his voice almost genuine. “Seriously. I can already see the Adidas campaign now.”

Tashi crossed her arms, her expression unimpressed but with the faintest glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Glad I could help with your creative brainstorming,” she said dryly, her tone signaling the end of the conversation.

“And when are you going pro?” Tashi asked, her tone casual but her gaze sharp as she shifted her attention to Patrick, clearly ready to dissect him next.

Patrick leaned back, exhaling a lazy laugh. “Next season,” he replied confidently. “It’s a young person’s game. No point in waiting around.”

Tashi scoffed, her eyebrow arching as she crossed her arms. “Hitting a ball with a racket—great way to avoid having a real job. And an even better excuse to dodge college.” Her words were light, but the edge in her tone was impossible to miss.

Patrick’s smirk deepened, his amusement only growing. “Oh, I see. You’ve got me all figured out?”

“Not exactly hard,” Tashi shot back, her head tilting slightly. “Your coach’s been calling you a genius since you were what, thirteen? Letting you do whatever you want, hyping you up like you’re the second coming of Agassi. That’s your problem.”

Patrick’s grin faltered, just a flicker, before he masked it with mock surprise. “Wow, I didn’t know you’d been watching me,” he quipped, the teasing lilt in his voice refusing to waver.

“I haven’t. I watched you once at the Junior Australian Open, and that was all I needed. You’re talented, sure, but no one’s actually taught you anything,” she said, her words cutting with precision. “Especially not how to fix that god-awful serve.”

“It works,” Patrick countered, his tone firm but defensive.

“For now,” Tashi retorted. “But that’s just junior tennis. What happens when you’re up against the pros? Someone’s going to pick apart that messy game of yours.”

Before Patrick could fire back, Tashi’s gaze darted to Art, her target shifting with ease. “Meanwhile, Art couldn’t get your coach’s attention if he lit himself on fire.”

Art stiffened, clearly caught off guard by the jab. He glanced at Patrick, as if looking for an escape, but Patrick only shrugged, clearly amused.

Maya, sensing the weight of Tashi’s words and the awkwardness they created, spoke up. “I think Art has real potential,” she said, her voice gentle but sure. “With time and the right support, he could be a great player.”

Her words seemed to land softly, Art’s blue eyes meeting hers. His ears turned pink, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment blooming across his face.

Tashi, ever the provocateur, leaned back and shrugged. “I was being generous. The point still stands: you can build something solid out of ice. Fire? It just burns everything down.”

Her gaze drifted to the waves, her words hanging in the salty night air like a challenge.

Tashi glanced down at her Garmin watch, the glow from the moon light bouncing of the glass panel. “We should get back before my dad notices I’m gone,” she said abruptly, slipping off the rock she’d been perched on. She scooped up her wedges, the cool sand pressing against her bare feet. “Maya, let’s go.”

Maya hesitated, her gaze lingering on Art. She stood slowly, brushing the sand from her dress, and offered him a small smile. “Goodnight,” she said softly, before giving Patrick a brief wave.

“Wait!” Patrick called, half-standing from his chair, his tone a mix of urgency and playful insistence.

“Are you on Facebook?” he asked, grinning as though the question itself was a clever move.

Tashi and Maya exchanged a quick glance, an unspoken conversation passing between them. “No idea what that is,” Tashi said smoothly, her tone flat but her expression teasing, omitting the fact that her account had been forcibly deactivated by her mom months ago.

“He’s asking for your numbers,” Art clarified, his voice low and casual, his smirk lingering as he watched the two sisters. “And, yeah, so am I.”

Tashi laughed, shaking her head. “You both want our numbers?” she asked, her disbelief evident.

“Absolutely,” Art said, his gaze steady.

“Right?” Tashi shot back, turning to Maya with mock astonishment. “Unreal. What do we look like to you—a pair of homewrecking lesbians?”

“We don’t live together,” Art said dryly, his lips quirking.

Patrick leaned in, quick to follow up with a smirk. “It’s an open relationship.”

“Also, Patrick has a girlfriend,” Art added, his tone light but pointed, earning a glare from Patrick.

“I do not,” Patrick protested. “Hey, why don’t you come hang out with us later?” His grin widened as he added, “I’m guessing they put you up at the same hotel in Flushing?”

Tashi rolled her eyes. “Maya’s too fancy for that. She’s at the Hampton Inn. Last-minute booking, naturally.”

“Oh, come on, Tee,” Maya shot back, exasperated. “It was the closest place to your hotel, and everything else was booked.”

“Alright, alright,” Tashi said, waving them off as she turned to leave. “I think it is time you get your beauty sleep. Goodnight boys.”

Patrick’s voice followed them, lilting and mischievous. “We have beer!”

Tashi laughed over her shoulder, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, in that case!”

As they walked back toward the glow of the party, Tashi nudged Maya, her grin wicked. “God, they want you so bad. What are you going to tell Jake when he finds out you’ve got two suitors fighting over you?”

“Jack is not my boyfriend. He’s just my debutante escort... maybe, I don’t know yet,” Maya groaned, exasperated.

“Whatever you say, Princess,” Tashi teased, her laughter soft as the crashing waves swallowed their voices.