#could i write more of this???? of course. i'm a disaster

[ivorydice]

Ahhhhhh I hate spending hours on photo edits just to notice some flaws in the pics that I can't undo goddddd

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 11th. blaise - mirror sex, body worship.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: writing this was detrimental to my health. blaise is a man. a MAN. you’re having a terrible day, your boyfriend knows what you need to make it better.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, PIV, fingering, multiorgasm, teasing, begging, doggystyle, dirty talk, praise so much praise, body worship, soft dom blaise, pet names, the usual nasty shit you'll find this month.

"Yeah that's what I said...he didn't listen to me, though. Of course."

Parchment crinkled under the weight of your hand, quill scratching faintly as your boyfriends voice hummed in the background—an effortless drawl that filled the room like low music. You barely caught the words, caught up in the mechanical rhythm of  your writing—but that didn't stop him from droning on, stretched out like a relaxed cat on your bed—one leg bent, both hands tucked behind his head, his gaze lost somewhere in the ceiling's quiet expanse.

"And? What happened?" You asked, finally letting the quill drop, grimacing at the ink smudged across your fingers.

"Detention," he said, clearly amused, "cleaning rat barrels for a week."

You managed a smile, but it was small, fleeting—more like a shadow of the real thing. Blaise noticed, of course he did, but he let it linger undisturbed, as if waiting for the right moment to ask what was really wrong. His stories were always an offering, an attempt to pull you from the depths of a day that felt as heavy as the sky before a storm—which usually helped, but today, even he couldn't shake the weight entirely.

You rolled away from your desk, chair wheels creaking until you reached the mirror. There you were, reflected back at yourself—no makeup, hair half-tumbling from the ponytail you'd given up on hours ago, the lines under your eyes telling a story you didn't want to read. You sighed, lifting a hand to touch the flyaway strands, knowing it wouldn't help. You were a bloody disaster.

"What're you lookin' at, baby?" Blaise was behind you before you even realized it, his warmth filling the space behind your chair, his arms snaking around your waist with the same natural ease as breathing. "Did I tell you you look beautiful today?"

You exhaled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his eyes meeting yours in the glass—

"Don't lie, Blaise," you muttered, the exhaustion making your voice heavier than it should've been. "I look a mess."

"Not a lie," he whispered back, his lips so close you could almost taste the mint on his tongue. His hand lifted, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down the side of your face like it was something sacred, like you weren't just a tired girl with too many thoughts. "You're always beautiful...so, so beautiful."

The heat from his words bloomed in your chest, a slow burn, even as the weight of the day pressed heavier. It felt as though the reflection was mocking you—this version of yourself you could barely recognize, worn down by everything that had gone wrong.

"I can tell when something's bothering you," he pressed on, his voice drawing you back, patient and unhurried. His fingers made soft circles on your stomach, waiting, coaxing. "Wanna tell me?"

"Nothing's bothering me...I just.." you shook your head, the words coming out on a breath, too small to carry the weight of what you meant. "I just had a bloody terrible day."

He hummed, thumb grazing your skin. "How terrible?"

"The kind that makes you feel like the universe is against you," you whispered, gaze falling, unable to look at him while your voice cracked. "I'm sorry—I know you wanted to go out tonight, but I just—"

"Shh—hey, don't do that," he interrupted, his fingers tilting your chin, forcing your eyes back to his in the mirror. "I don't care about going out. I care about you. We don't need to be anywhere else. I've got everything I need right here, baby. Okay?"

Merlin—your heart clenched, the ache reminding you just how easy it was to fall in love with him—and how you managed to do so, all over again, every single day. Blaise always had this way of making you feel like the center of the world, even on days when you felt like you were disappearing from it.

A small, trembling smile ghosted across your lips, and you nodded. "Okay."

"Yeah?" He nudged your chin gently, brushing more stray hair from your face—he never once took his fucking eyes off of you. "You're so fucking beautiful, babygirl...how are you all mine..."

A sigh escaped your lips as his fingers moved to massage your shoulders, his lips finding their way back to the curve of your neck, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your skin. The tension in your body began to melt, replaced by something warmer, softer.

"Messy hair, no makeup...you're a fucking dream," he whispered. "Every morning I wake up...and I still can't believe..." his hands trailed down your arms, a slow blaze of fire, grazing over your belly before they curved up your chest. "...that all of this...is all for me..."

Your head tipped back, a soft whimper slipping from your lips as he pressed himself closer. One of his hands slid back up, fingers curling around the base of your throat, his thumb stroking the side of your neck. He groaned softly against your temple, other hand still pawing at your chest.

"Look at you," he rasped as his eyes met yours again in the mirror. You could feel his gaze tracing the outline of his hand wrapped around your throat. "Tell me you know you're beautiful."

Your heart was racing, breaths coming in shallow bursts as the intensity of his touch, his words, filled the room. He was crowding over you, pressed against the back of your chair, his hands insistent but not frantic, like he had all the time in the world—

"I know," you whispered. "You tell me every day..."

He hummed, the sound vibrating in his throat. "Mhm…and I'll keep telling you…because I don't think you get it yet...just how truly beautiful you are…”

Your lashes fluttered, eyes heavy beneath the weight of his gaze as his fingers moved lower, the buttons of your shirt parting effortlessly, baring the delicate lace underneath.

His jaw clenched, hunger flickering behind his eyes, his touch roughening with it. “…and just how lucky I am... to get to touch you like this."

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, your back arched, baring yourself to him with a shivering sigh. His hand around your throat tightened, not too much, just enough to remind you he held you, that in this moment —this skin—belonged to him.

His other hand moved across your chest, teasing your nipples through the lacy fabric, kneading, coaxing your heart to race under his palm.

"I'm a better man because of you," he whispered, lips ghosting over the pulse at your neck. “...because you make me want to be."

Your whimper came unbidden, warmth flooding your veins as his eyes never left yours—devouring you through the glass. This wasn't just about touch. It was something Blaise always made sure you felt in this relationship, the thing tethered between you—the fulfilment of a need to be seen and a need to be known.

"Look at you." His lips tilted in a breathy smile, dripping with reverence, with something sacred as his hand roved over your chest, taking his time. "Perfect. So fucking perfect."

Both big hands fell to massage your tits now and a small, broken sound escaped you—helpless against the onslaught, your body betraying your efforts at control. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to stem the flood, but it was useless. Blaise, like this, was unrelenting, determined to make you remember this moment, every whisper, every touch. His voice was an echo you'd hear in your dreams.

"Blaise..." his name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper. “Gods.”

"Open those pretty eyes for me, babygirl..." he purred  as his teeth grazed the curve of your neck. You obeyed with a shiver—your reflection pure chaos — a mess of need and want, heat pooling low in your belly, an ache between your legs you couldn't ignore. Blaise hummed. "I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see what I see."

His hands slid lower, skimming the curve of your hips and settling on your thighs. You watched as he moved with deliberation, savouring the way your skin shivered beneath his touch. He shifted your legs wider, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher until it bunched around your waist. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you weren't sure who was falling apart faster—him or you.

"Fuck," you moaned, barely holding onto the sound, feeling it slip past your lips like a breath. "Blaise.."

With a satisfied smile, his eyes flicked to yours and you noted the way his breathing shallowed—admired the way his fingers slipped along the insides of your thighs, tracing the soft skin without haste. The sensation made your breath hitch, and you bit down on your lip, fighting to keep your eyes open.

A low groan rumbled from deep in his chest as he pushed your skirt up further, exposing your underwear in the reflection.

"That's my girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with adoration. "These thighs...mm, fuck...so soft.."

His fingers dragged back down, agonizingly slow, tracing your thighs again.

You shuddered. You knew just how needy you sounded but gods—"Blaise, please..."

Blaise knew too, and of course he just chuckled, lips grazing the curve of your shoulder, his teeth catching on the fabric there. The nip was gentle at first, but just enough to make you gasp, your hips jerking reflexively—and you watched his eyes flash, lashes fluttering—

"Fuck...these hips," now he was growling, his nails biting into your skin. "The way you roll them...torture, pure torture... just to make me give you what you want..."

Your breath hitched again. You were a squirming mess, now—each fucking word a slow burn that licked at every nerve.

"Is that so bad?" You whispered, though the words barely left your mouth before a soft moan interrupted them. "Making you…give me what I want...?"

His laugh was rougher this time, his breath searing hot against your ear. One hand moved again, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear—and you realized you were holding your fucking breath—meeting his gaze in the mirror, wide and wanting, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

"Not so bad...when I want to give it to you..." his fingers danced over your clothed cunt—light, taunting, threatening to give you everything you craved but holding just shy of it. Your hips rolled again, involuntarily. "But absolutely disastrous," his fingers traced higher, the ache of wanting made your pulse thunder. "...when I'm trying to make you wait."

You whimpered, snuffing a groan in your throat, and he smiled—watching the effect, his jaw falling open when he grazed over your clit through the fabric and you moaned loud—shameless.

"Gods—Blaise, please—" you were so fucking desperate now. Heat scorching your skin. Eyes squeezed shut. He was going to kill you, you were sure of it. “No more teasing—“

"Eyes open." He husked, bringing one hand back up to cup your jaw. "You close them and I'll stop. Keep being good for me, baby..."

You whinged—meeting his dark eyes in the mirror, lust blown pupils swallowing his irises. You watched yourself—his arms curled around you, strong and firm—long, slender fingers finally, fucking finally, giving you what you want—slipping under your underwear, fingertips kissing the sensitive lips of your throbbing cunt.

"Good girl...so good for me..." he muttered, slicking a single digit between your folds, grazing your clit. That did it—blinded with relief, you whinged, moaning deep in your chest. "Oh fuck, you're so wet...you need this, don't you, baby..."

"Yes—Gods—" you held his eyes in the mirror, hips jerking toward his touch. "Need it...need you..."

"So sensitive f'me..." he whispered in your ear, brushing the bundle of nerves again, earning another shuddered groan. He kissed at your jaw. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say that...that you need me..."

"Fuck—I do—always—" the words bled out, unfiltered. "Always need you."

Blaise shuddered, you could feel his hips rocking gently against the back of the chair as his fingers found your clit, indefinitely this time, and began drawing tight, frantic circles over it. Your back crested, your head falling back just slightly before you remembered what he said and returned your gaze to his in the mirror—he was watching you, body crowding yours like he was preparing a meal—and you spread your legs wider, noting the entire mess he'd made of you in minutes.

"Beautiful," he cooed, jaw tensing as you gripped his wrist—one hand shifting to grope your chest. "Messy girl...m'dying to get inside you..."

You cried out, your pussy clenching, craving to be filled by him. "Blaise—baby—please..."

Wetness soaked your thighs—coated his fingers as he dipped lower and pushed two inside you, crooking them deep. The reaction was involuntary—you cried out, ground your hips into his palm, fucking yourself on his digits, wanting—no, needing more. He groaned, squeezing your breast harder than you're sure he'd intended—teeth sinking into your shoulder in a futile attempt to compose himself.

"Fucking hell—that's it, baby—" his thumb twirled your clit, fingers driving deep—bliss burned your eyes, and you moaned. "Soaked and still so fucking tight...fuck.."

"M'gonna—I need you—" you were babbling, lost in sensation, coherent thoughts banished to the perimeters of your mind. "Inside—pleasepleaseplease—need you—"

"Cum first," his hand on your breast slipped up, tangling through your hair and nudging your face toward his—his lips found yours, soft and tender. "Wanna' make you feel good..."

Pleasure flooded you, muscles collapsing as you succumbed to it—Blaise kissed you again, holding you there, tongue delving into your mouth while he rubbed your swollen nub faster, pumped his fingers deeper.

"I...oh, Gods—already feel s'good..." you moaned into him, and he jerked you harder to his body, tongue massaging yours while his plush lips worked over your mouth. "Mm—fuck—s'good—"

He groaned. "Mhm—cum for me."

And then you did—every nerve in your body ignited at once. The obscene, wet sounds of him pumping his fingers into you filled the room, a rhythm that matched the frantic pulse in your ears. His mouth smothered the desperate cries of pleasure that fought to break free as your body convulsed, writhing against him. Your hips bucked, helplessly seeking more, fingers digging into his wrist like anchors as your entire world spun wildly out of control. He was both your rock and your undoing—keeping you tethered to earth while hurling you into the stars.

It felt like you were suspended in that ecstasy forever, the air leaving your lungs in shattered gasps, until, at last, your breathing found its rhythm again. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, his own breath shaky, eyes dark with hunger. He brought his slick-coated fingers to your lips, pressing them past, and you groaned as you took him in, suckling greedily.

"You like that?" His voice was a low rumble, vibrating against your spine. You moaned in response, your tongue swirling around his digits, eyes fluttering shut at the taste of yourself. His other hand moved, urgently, his belt coming undone and echoing through the room as he freed himself, groaning, "Fuck."

Blaise had lost his composure completely—you didn't need to look at him to know it. In an instant, you were on your feet, his hands pulling you up as he kicked your chair out of the way, rolling into the wall with a thud. You turned your head to look at it but his lips crashed into yours, both hands cradling your face as he sank to his knees, dragging you down with him. The hardwood floor beneath you was cold, but his touch—his touch was a wildfire, scorching every inch of your skin, setting your blood to boil.

You moved instinctively and gasped as your fingers found him, warm and hard in your palm, twitching at your touch. He growled low in his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily as you stroked him, kneeling together on the floor, breaths mingling in the heated space between you. The moment stretched, unbearably tense, until with a swift motion, he spun you around, turning you to face the mirror.

His hands were everywhere—on your hips, sliding down your thighs, grazing the curve of your waist—pulling your skirt higher as he met your eyes over your shoulder in the reflection—

"Look at yourself," his fingers tightened on your hips, guiding you back against him, his length slicking between your thighs, grazing against your heat. "See what you do to me."

You gasped, melting into him, tightening your thighs around his shaft, fighting to keep your eyes on his in the mirror. Blaise exhaled, cranking your throat to the side and snatching a breast before biting the meat of your shoulder, cock pulsing when you whinged in delighted pain.

"Blaise—fuck—please..." your cunt clenched with anticipation, heat at your cheeks as you watched yourself in the mirror, desperately trying to tip your hips so he'd slide in. "Please, fuck me—"

Your voice was ruined. Music to his ears. Blaise could never deny that begging.

"Shit, baby..." he pressed in, leaning you forward until you were resting on your elbows in front of the mirror—seething as his girth stretched you open—splitting you wide in a way that made your eyes roll. He pulsed at your entrance, taking his time, letting you bask in the drag of your walls along his swollen length. In his reflection, his were lips parted, chest working with broken breath. "So goddamn tight..."

"Fuck," you moaned, unbridled, his hands bruising your hips as he picked up the pace. "Yes—mm—Gods, yes—"

The power of his thrusts stole your breath, quaked your bones, your cries of pleasure hiccuped by the rapid strokes of his hips. Blaise was the most patient man you'd ever met, until he wasn't. He groaned, his eyes trained on your ass, skin smacking skin with loud slaps—you were captivated, unable to think or speak or do anything other than watch—fire stoked by the sheer eroticism of watching him fuck your pussy. A hard, vicious plunge—you shrieked, and you could see him smirk to himself before gracing your ass with a soft smack, piercing your cervix.

"Sexy little thing. All fucking mine." He wound your hair in his fist, popping your neck back to hunch over you. "You like that, hm? Watching yourself get fucked?"

You whimpered, neck aching with the force of his grip, nails digging into your palms as he drilled you. The switch in his demeanour was dizzying. His dick was hollowing you out, rending you wide—you could hardly focus on his words—

"Yes!" You managed. "Fuck—yes—"

He groaned, fucking faster—his gaze ravaged you, wandering over every inch of your reflection before stopping at your jiggling chest. His hand slipped down from your hair to grasp a breast—squeezing and kneading the soft flesh in his huge palm, his other hand snaking down around your thigh to swirl over your clit, and you choked—a noise wrenched from your lungs far louder than you'd have liked.

"Fuck—fuck—" his hips moved erratically. He was getting close. So were you. "Tight—squeeze me s'good—"

You whinged. He swirled his fingers faster. "Blaise—m'gonna—cum—"

It descended upon you—the promise of oblivion—as you found one breath, another breath, and then found yourself in the mirror, skin gleaming, expression wrought with pleasure, entire body shaking with the pistoning of your boyfriends hips.

His eyes were still on yours, reverence inside them, worship.

He grunted. "Yes—fuck, cum on my cock, baby—let me feel you—"

It was a command that shattered all thought, a primal cry of ecstasy that ripped through you, overtaking every nerve, every vein, every muscle in your body. Your limbs trembled, thighs shaking as the pleasure coursed through you, molten, burning under your skin. You were less than halfway cognizant of what was leaving your mouth—barely picking up on your boyfriends groans and moans in your ear as you squeezed and milked his cock through your climax, fucking you deep until he couldn't take it anymore and erupted as well—pouring his cum into you, rolling his hips until he was empty.

Swallowing hard, you collapsed onto the floor, your chest heaving as he pulled out, leaving you breathless and trembling. His hands, still warm from the heat of your skin, gently held your arm as he sank down beside you. Without a word, he tugged you against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing a calming rhythm against your back. His fingers threaded softly through your hair, untangling the remnants of tension as the two of you lay there, catching your breath.

After a few moments, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, the touch so tender it made you melt all over again. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, a soft smile curving your lips, all the stress that had plagued you earlier dissipating into nothing.

"Maybe I should have bad days more often." You smiled through an exhale.

"If this is what it takes to fix them," he murmured with a smirk, his voice deep and gravelly from exertion, "then I'm more than willing to be your remedy, anytime."

You hummed, a huff of a laugh slipping out as you traced lazy shapes on his chest—inhaling his scent with each breath. You loved this man. Loved that he never failed to make you feel so goddamn beautiful, so special, so needed.

"Seriously though," you whispered after a while, your cheek pressed to his chest, "thank you. For this. For knowing exactly what I needed."

His fingers stilled in your hair, a quiet hum of understanding in his throat.

"I always know what you need, baby," he said, his voice soft, filled with something more than just desire, something warmer. "And I'll always be here to give it to you."

[rallamajoop]

So why are there so many gay vampires?

From the time of Carmilla all the way up to the works of Anne Rice (a universe that seems to get only less subtle as the years go on), gay vampires have been a thing basically as long as anyone was writing about vampires. Lesbian vampires have been a genre all their own for decades. Bram Stoker, author of the most famous vampire novel ever written, was gay himself. So why vampires specifically?

I’ve seen people attempt to answer this one before, and there are all sorts of contributing factors I could point to here, from the genres’ beginnings with Lord Byron (infamous bisexual disaster fuckboy), to modern discourse about why queer folks so often find themselves identifying with the monsters and outcasts of fiction. Few other monsters besides vampires can so easily pass for ‘normal’, or are nearly so well known for their snappy dress sense and ‘unnatural cravings’ for human flesh. And that’s without even getting into all those skeezy outdated stereotypes casting queer people as predators, or the idea that even one ‘gay experience’ could somehow ‘convert’ you into being one yourself.

But to my mind, there’s just one really important thing that makes vampires so gay, and it’s the same thing that makes them sexy in the first place: plausible deniability.

You see, a vampire’s bite is simultaneously a) ridiculously sexual, and b) not even a little bit sexual at all.

You don’t have to look far for vampire canons where there’s nothing sexy about being bitten by a vampire. Bloody, violent, painful, sure ‒or just clinically miserable, human bodies torn open or hung up to drain like a human blood bag. What’s sexy about getting bitten by a mosquito, or a fecking leech? The diet of the actual vampire bat requires it to process so much water that it apparently spends mealtimes busily pissing out the difference, and the anti-coagulants in its saliva leave the wound bleeding messily long after it’s gone. The basic act of feeding is no more inherently sexual for a vampire than it is for a zombie.

Vampires are even a surprisingly acceptable monster to market to children. There’s a vampire muppet, a cartoon about a vampire duck, and a whole series of books about a vampire rabbit. You can put a vampire on the side of a cereal box without undue outrage. Vampires do not have to be R-rated for sex or violence.

So of course vampires will go after victims of the same sex. Do you stop to inquire whether the cow you’re eating was male or female? It’s all just predator and prey!

Until it’s everything but.

Do not let the ‘vampires aren’t supposed to be sexy!’-purists fool you. The tradition of sexy vampires goes all the way back to the oldest folklore, where the first victim of a newly-risen vampire was often their still-living spouse. Vampires were even occasionally known to get women pregnant (a convenient excuse for any widow who might turn up pregnant slightly too many months after their husband's death). The ‘original’ Nosferatu sounds more like an incubus than the naked mole-rat creature they made that movie about. The demon lover aspect of the vampire has been there all along.

And it’s not hard to imagine why. If someone is biting and sucking on your neck, then either they’re a vampire, or they’re well on the way to second base (other folklore has its vampires feed directly from their victim’s heart, which is scarcely less suggestive). The implications of an exchange of bodily fluids were never subtle, even in Stoker’s day (I'm looking at you, Lucy-with-the-three-husbands), and the vampire as a sexual predator was a popular literary device well before Stoker's time. Beautiful vampire women would seduce men to their demise, and the males of the species might visit the bedroom of some innocent maiden time and again. The Victorian obsession with mesmerism, meanwhile, provided the perfect explanation for how victims might be hypnotised into eager compliance, and perhaps not even remember being fed upon at all. Vampires have been the ultimate guilt-free sexual fantasy since way back in the day, compatible with all your awkward Victorian mores! (Not quite ready to admit they're sexual fantasies? No problem: he's just here to, y'know, suck on your neck a bit. No subtext here!)

The whole act of biting is so suggestive that in the early years of vampire cinema, it wasn’t shown at all, not even between opposite-sex participants. The camera of 1922’s Nosferatu maintains a demure distance during the climactic scene where the heroine is finally bitten and slowly drained of blood, and Universal’s Dracula conveniently fades to black or cuts away whenever it’s about to take place. But even if the biting has to take place off screen, who’s to say a vampire isn’t going to pick victims of both sexes?

The stately tradition of the lesbian vampire has cinematic examples going all the way back to 1936, with Universal’s Dracula’s Daughter. Though the titular vampire has a nominal male love interest – a psychologist who naively advises her to confront her temptations without fear – the result of his advice is a famous sequence where she picks up a young woman under the premise of wanting an artist's model, and convinces her to remove her top. No actual biting or nudity is shown (it was only 1936), but her fate is left in little doubt.

By the era of 70’s sexploitation, all such subtlety had been abandoned. If we’re all good with naked boobs, who’s going to be offended by a little biting?

In fact, when it comes to men rather than women, a vampire bite was, for many years, far too sexy to be shown, or even alluded to. Nosferatu clearly feeds on that film’s Jonathan-expy, but our only evidence is the bitemarks on his neck in the morning, and the final sacrifice to defeat the evil monster must naturally be female. Universal’s Dracula had to ignore explicit studio mandate that only the brides should be allowed to feed on their own Jonathan-equivalent, as to even imply that Dracula himself had fed upon a man was obviously far too homoerotic to contemplate (never mind that it’s Dracula who must be established as the threat in this opening sequence, or that it’s Dracula his victim will spend the rest of the film obsessed with).

But in that unspeakable land of male-on-male homoeroticism, you might be surprised how much homo we can squeeze in even without resorting to fangs-in-necks. The Lost Boys is surely one of the most homoerotic vampire films ever made, but there, the one big blood-drinking scene is rendered in a bloody massacre of slasher-movie violence. And though Anne Rice certainly describes the scene where Lestat drains Louis of blood in lurid detail (and even has them spend their first sunrise together sharing a coffin), Louis is already thoroughly seduced before he ever reaches this point.

You see, the lore of the pop-cultural vampire conveniently comes with a second and equally-compelling target for plausible deniability: the act of making a new vampire.

Obviously, to work, this has to be deliberate. A world where anyone bitten by a vampire becomes one hasn’t much to offer us, and the relationship between maker and fledgling can just as easily be framed as parental, as recruitment into a cult, or purely transactional. But whichever way you twist it, the implications of choosing another to share in your own eternal youth and immortality… like, I don’t have to spell this one out for you, do I? Did I mention how that thing where a vampire’s traditional first victim tended to be their own mortal widow goes all the way back?

But if we’re not ready to be completely obvious with our mainstream audience, some alternative explanation can always be provided for cover. Lestat doesn’t really want Louis, he just wants Louis’ money! (He also really wants Louis.) The Lost Boys just want Michael to join their gang! (Their very, very pretty gang, who swan around in mesh shirts, tank tops and assless chaps.)

The two sides of the vampire-deniability coin aren’t mutually exclusive, either. Carmilla drinks her new paramour’s blood, but also gazes into her eyes while promising her you will be mine. Drinking blood is a key part of making a new vampire in so many vampire stories, after all.

Carmilla isn’t even the only gay vampire story of the Victorian era. I recently posted about two other fascinating examples, both featuring male/male pairings: one being pretty much just a gender-flipped version of Carmilla, and the other a tragic love story filled with significant "vampire = gay lover" metaphors (why oh why must the townsfolk keep us apart, when we’ll only ever be happy once we’re united once more?) This stuff goes surprisingly far back.

In fact, you can find queer subtext in vampire fiction that predates even Byron and Polidori. 1819's The Vampyre was the first published vampire story, yes, but the first known work of vampire-fiction in the English language is a poem published by John Stagg in 1810, also called The Vampyre (look, the genre didn’t exist yet, you didn’t have to be creative with your titles).

In brief, Stagg’s poem recounts a conversation between a wife (Gertrude) and her dying husband (Herman), whose dear friend Sigismund, lately deceased and deeply mourned, has returned as a vampire. Night after night, he crawls into Herman’s room to drain his blood. Herman’s fate is already sealed, but unless Gertrude takes action, it will surely be she that Herman will take as his own first victim when he rises from the grave.

There may be nothing intentional about the queer subtext of this tale. A vampire’s victims often include friends he knew in life, as Stagg himself cites in his introduction. But if Herman’s first victim will be his wife, what are we to read about the fact Sigismund’s first victim is Herman? Especially given how long he’s kept secret from poor Gertrude that his dear ‘friend’ has been climbing into his bedroom each night, lying beside him in bed and sucking and draining "the fountain of my heart!" while Herman moans and tosses (in pain, obviously!), always leaving him "exhausted, spent." Ultimately, Gertrude is saved only when both Herman and Sigismund are staked through the heart, and we close on the image of them slumbering together in the tomb.

It is, however you turn it, pretty gay.

I reiterate: this is the very first known work of vampire fiction written in the English language. The second was the one that was kind-of-written-by, kind-of-stolen-from, and unambiguously based on bisexual-disaster-fuckboy Lord Byron. And the two most influential works of vampire fiction of the next hundred years would be Carmilla, the very lesbian vampire story written by a… presumably straight man? And Dracula, the not-completely-convincingly-hetero story written by #1 Walt Whitman fanboy Bram Stoker. Vampires have always been very equal-opportunity kind of monsters.

There are, of course, plenty of influential heterosexual vampire tales to fill out the roster too. Varney the Vampire, a penny dreadful from the 1840s, was so successful it ran for over 200 chapters. The 1960s had their own wildly successful Varney-equivalent in the soap opera Dark Shadows. Love it or hate it, we really can't ignore Twilight either. My own introduction to the genre was Christopher Pike’s The Last Vampire series, which came out alongside the original Vampire Diaries novels. So there's plenty of material around to keep the straights entertained – and honestly, that’s only as it should be, because the very thing that makes vampires so queer-friendly is that the sex of their victims doesn’t matter. And it’s so easy to make vampires sexy (let alone a full vampire-proposal!) that even the Victorians could do it.

Now, if your reaction to all this theorising is to tell me "but the LGBTQ’s shouldn’t have to hide behind plausible deniability!" I can only counter, "well sure, but why should the straights have all the fun?" Because playing with all the ambiguity of "is this monster really just after my blood or is this going somewhere?" can be all sorts of fun, regardless of the genders involved. And as long as they’re up for exchanging bodily fluids with persons-and-or-victims of either gender equally, why not have some fun with it?

So, okay, maybe the real title of this post should have been "why are there so many pansexual vampires?" But the answer doesn’t change. Vampires have been the bisexual disaster fuckmonsters for as long as anyone’s been writing about vampires, and have been a metaphor allowing people publish barely-coded gay attraction since 1872. And much like the queer community, they’ve only become more complex, more sympathetic, and all the more popular as romantic paramours as the years have gone by.

[amirasainz]

Hi literally get so excited when you update! Can you write one where charles x alexandra x reader where charles and alex are away for an event and forget that it's the reader birthday ans only remember when someone tells them birthday it and they try and make it up to her.

Hi loves. I hope you enjoy this little piece. Let me know what you think. Comments are always apreciated!I'm sorry,but the Sydney Sweeny picture was perfect, so I had to include it😉

Also, question (and please answer me that in the comments), does anyone read what I write before the story? Like the little message here? I'm just curious❤️

Enjoy reading and send me requests!!❤️

-XoXo

The Birthday disaster

You couldn’t believe it. They weren’t here. They didn’t call, text, or even send you a freaking letter. Your own boyfriend and girlfriend forgot your birthday. And not just any birthday, it was your 21 birthday. Instead of celebrating with Alex, Charles, and all of your friends in a vibrant club, you were sitting on the balcony of your apartment. Despite the cold wind hitting your bare skin mercilessly, thanks to the cute short dress you wore today, you couldn’t bring yourself to walk back inside.

Of course, your friends tried to get you to come out with them to celebrate your birthday properly. But it just hurt too much, and to be honest, your mind was too tired and sad for any kind of festivity.

When Charles and Alex first informed you about the event hosted by one of Alex’s friends, they eagerly asked you to join them. Unfortunately, your job didn’t allow you to tag along, which both of them understood. However, they promised you that they would return today at around 5 o’clock. To be honest, you thought they had something special planned for your birthday. But last night, at around 11 pm, you received a text from Alex, informing you that they would be staying longer in Venice, where the event was held.

At first, you thought this was some kind of joke. Maybe they wanted you to think that they weren’t able to celebrate with you, only to surprise you with a birthday party. But sadly, when you woke up this morning, nothing happened. Throughout the day, there was complete silence between you and them.

Your group of friends, who had been with you a few hours ago to at least celebrate your birthday a little bit, tried to convince you to go out and party with them. Before you could agree, you got a notification from Instagram. You were tagged quite often in a post showing Alex and Charles at the event. They looked so happy and carefree, making you feel even more numb.

Despite their best efforts, your friends left after half an hour, after you reassured them with phrases like “Yes, I will take care of myself,” “Yes, I will call you if I need anything,” and “No, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m completely fine.” They knew you were anything but fine; however, they also knew that you needed to be alone right now.

So here you are, sitting alone in the cold with your only companions being the vodka bottle you brought with you and the relentless wind hitting your skin. “Happy fucking 21st birthday to me, I guess,” you muttered to yourself, staring out at the sea.

“Oh my god, Lisa. You truly outdid yourself,” complimented Alex, her friend. And it was true. The event was filled with beautiful flowers and lights, giving the room a fairy-like appearance. The soft glow of the lights reflected off the petals, creating a magical ambiance that made everyone feel like they had stepped into an enchanted garden. Charles, who stood next to his girlfriend, only brought her closer to him and said, “Yeah, I have to agree. I’m 100% sure YN would have loved it.” “You are so right, love. I wish she was here with us,” agreed Alex, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

“Wait, I’m confused. So there is nothing wrong between you guys and YN?” asked Lisa, her brow furrowed in confusion. Alex and Charles shared a look with each other, both of them equally puzzled. “No, why would there be anything wrong with us?” Alex replied, her tone defensive. “Oh, I just thought you had a fight and this is the reason why you are here and not with YN today. But I must have been wrong…” Linda’s voice trailed off, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She shared a look with her partner Mary, both of them realizing the gravity of the situation.

“Wait, stop. Pause. Why would we be with YN tonight? You invited us to your event and we are here. I don’t get what’s going on right now,” said Alex, her frustration mounting. It felt like Mary and Lisa knew something she and Charles didn’t. Mary, who was now also becoming more annoyed with how the two of them acted before them, didn’t take any nonsense from Alex.

Without hesitation, she looked straight into Alex’s eyes and told her with an ice-cold voice, “Well, we weren’t expecting you to show up today because we thought that you would be busy celebrating YN’s 21 birthday today. But from the looks of it, it seems like you forgot your own girlfriend’s birthday. So don’t talk to us with that rude tone of yours. At least we remember each other’s birthdays.” With that, Mary took Lisa by the hand and left, leaving Alex and Charles standing there in stunned silence.

Alex and Charles were left behind, both staring at the space where the couple used to be a few seconds ago. Both of them felt a wave of guilt and shame wash over them. How could they forget their own girlfriend’s birthday? Turning on their phones, they saw the flood of messages they had received from not only their fans but also their friends, YN’s friends, and their families. Each message was a painful reminder of their oversight.

“We messed up so badly,” muttered Charles, looking at Alex with a pained expression. The woman could only nod, still speechless. Charles took her arm and gently but firmly led her out of the room. “We have to go to her. ASAP,” Alex told Charles, who was already a step ahead of her and had their jackets in hand. With that, the couple left the event, both feeling a deep sense of remorse. How could they forget their girl’s birthday?

As they hurried to their car, Alex’s mind raced with thoughts of how to make it up to YN. She knew it would take more than just an apology to mend the hurt they had caused. Charles, too, was lost in his thoughts, thinking of ways to show YN how much she meant to them. They both knew that they had a lot of making up to do, but they were determined to do whatever it took to make things right.

At around 1 am, the couple finally arrived home. The ride back had been silent, the air in the car feeling oppressively thick, making it hard to breathe. They parked their car in the garage and, without hesitation, jumped out of the vehicle, racing towards the elevator. The few minutes it took to reach their front door felt like an eternity, each second stretching painfully.

When they entered the apartment, everything was shrouded in darkness. A figure sat on the balcony, barely visible in the dim light. Charles immediately sat next to YN, while Alex kneeled in front of her. YN didn’t even look at them before taking a gulp from the nearly empty bottle of vodka. “Hey love, I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” whispered Charles, gently trying to take the bottle away from the now 21-year-old girl.

YN shook her head, her voice trembling as she reminded them, “No. NO, you do not get to tell me what I can and cannot do. Not after you forgot about me.” “Baby, we didn’t forget about you,” Alex tried, her eyes already filling with tears. YN only laughed, her own tears streaming down her face. “No, Alexandra. You do not get to tell me that after you forgot my birthday, and you certainly don’t get to cry.” “Ok, let’s all calm down,” Charles attempted again, his voice soothing but firm.

“No Charles! I don’t want to calm down. You both forgot about me. You two promised me that something like this would never happen to us. You promised me that you would always love me. You promised me that the age gap didn’t bother you when we started dating when I was 19. But look at us. You already broke one of your promises. How can I be sure that you won’t break another one?” With that, YN broke down in tears. Her whole body shook with the force of her sobs, her head held in her hands.

Charles and Alex immediately moved to comfort her. “YN, breath. We are so freaking sorry. I guarantee you, we didn’t mean for something like this to happen. We were all so busy with our jobs and social lives that we didn’t mean to forget something so important,” Charles began, his voice filled with regret.

Alex took YN’s head into her hands, gently wiping away her tears. “We love you more than anything in this world. You are our air and our heart. And we will apologize for the rest of our lives if we have to,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. YN only whispered, “I love you guys too.” Alex didn't hesitate before kissing her girlfriend. after a moment the they pulled apart.

Charles turned her face towards him, speaking softly, “And we didn’t lie when we told you the age gap didn’t bother us. And we certainly didn’t lie when we promised you that we would always love you, ok?” After YN nodded, Letting Charles also kiss her. This kiss was filled with as much love as Alex, just a bit more urgently but still gentle. After their kiss, the three of them cuddled close to each other, finding solace in their shared warmth.

It would take some time before everything was alright between the three of them again. But for now, sitting together and watching the city lights flicker in the distance was the perfect way to start healing.

[httpiastri]

hiii! i would like a ❣️ but with voicemails from the drivers hinting that they like you? we have mostly the same favorite drivers so just write for whoever you think would be good 😌

❣️ – send me a prompt and one/a few drivers and i'll tell you how i think they would react!!

(featuring: lando, charles, alex, oscar, ollie, paul, arthur, pepe and clem)

lando norris

"i think you should come visit me in monaco more. you know that the bed in my guest room is always made for you. and i put on those sheets i know you like, and i have those fragrance sticks with the rose scent, you said you liked them last time you visited me. well, i mean, my room and my bed is always ready for you, too. and i'll be in it, so… *chuckle* my mind just keeps wandering off to when you were here a few nights ago, and… i think… honestly? i think you should move in with me. okay, that sounds crazy and impulsive and like i haven't thought this through, but i really have given it a lot of thought. i want you to move in here. don't worry about the expenses, i can take care of it all. and a moving truck to get your stuff, i'll pay for it. just… think about it, will you? don't just laugh it off. i'm serious about this."

charles leclerc

"i just got back to the apartment, and it's... so quiet without you here. i keep thinking about the last time we made dinner together and how you laughed so hard at my terrible cooking that the neighbors came over to complain. i'm still scared of meeting them in the stairwell. maybe next time, you should be the one to take charge and show me how it's done? save me from another disaster? or we could go out, whichever you prefer. i just really want to see you again. and not die from food poisoning."

alex albon

"the other day, you mentioned not having a necklace that fit the new top you bought. and for some reason, i just happened to find myself right outside a jewelry store today. so i went in and bought you something. the lady in the cash register told me that a longer chain with a pendant would fit a v-neck top best, so that's what i got. it's gold, of course, i wouldn't dare buy you anything silver after you lectured me about having a warm skin tone for half an hour... i don't know, i just wanted to tell you this so you don't run around stressing about having to buy a new necklace. i can drop by yours with it if you want me to. or if you want to wear the top tonight, i'll give it to you when i pick you up."

oscar piastri

"hey, i just wanted to check in with you, make sure you're okay. are you? *pause*. what he said tonight, that was... it wasn't right. you don't deserve that. he was wrong, he has no idea what he's talking about. please, call me when you get this."

ollie bearman

"can i come straight to yours from the airport? you don't have to hug me before i shower, i might be full of flight germs, but... i just want to see you. and i'm pretty sure i forgot my favorite sweater at your place last time i went to visit you. you know, the blue one?... i think you know. not that i want it back, you can keep it if you like it. i know you look cute in it... that's beside the point. i'll tell the taxi driver your address, let me know if you don't want me coming over. see you soon."

paul aron

"some kids are building a snow fort down the street. you know, in the park where we had that picnic last summer? one of them has slipped and fallen right onto his butt about ten times now, it's hilarious. i wish you were here to see it, you would've laughed your ass off. *pause*. wish you were here for other reasons, too. but... just one more week, right?"

arthur leclerc

"i may have had a bit too much wine but i needed to call you and tell you what i just realized. you have the prettiest eyes in the world. they are gorgeous. i want to trade eyes, if i have your eyes then i would be able to get any girl – but i still only have eyes for you. haha, get it? because they're your eyes? *pause*. why are you not answering? did you hang up on me? oh, is this voicemail? did you not think i was important enough to pick up the call? even at three in the morning, you should only think about me."

pepe marti

"i know i said i was going to call you tomorrow, but i just realized. i forgot to tell you something. sebastian is throwing a party this weekend- i think it's more of a housewarming-gathering-thing, and i wasn't really feeling like going, but... i would love to introduce you to some of my friends. they're all really nice, i promise you, and if you ever feel even slightly bad, we can leave instantly. i just want to show you off, i guess? everyone would be so jealous- i didn't mean it like that, i made it sound like- i'm sorry. just please, come with me. it would mean the world to me."

clement novalak

"i went by that bookshop i know you like. the cute little one near the subway station, right by the park? and i... i had some time to spare, so i went in. just to look around at first, but then i wanted to ask the woman who works there if they have that book you were talking about. but i just couldn't remember the name of it, so i tried to explain it to her based on what you told me weeks ago, but i was just rambling... but i think she managed to find the right one. hopefully. and when we went to pay, she asked if she should wrap it and i said 'sure', but when she asked who it was to, i froze... so the wrapping has little hearts on it, i hope that's okay. i'll see you tonight, right? can't wait."

[lizhly-writes]

hi! here's a bunch of words i wrote when i was supposed to be working!

There were probably better conversations to have on your first date with your fiance than "how are things going with your ex-fiance," but by the fucking gods, Shang Qinghua couldn't think of anything else to say. He was curious! He didn't write Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu as almost married! That must have been a disaster. Shang Qinghua could only imagine the terrible back-and-forth during their engagement. Dissolving the engagement probably would have made it even worse! There was no winning! It was a trainwreck all around!

Ah, but Shang Qinghua should really say something else. Why was his mind so empty today? It wasn't like Shang Qinghua and Yue Qingyuan never talked. They regularly talked, they had overlapping spheres of influence, logistics was sort of an important thing to leadership. What did he and Yue Qingyuan even talk about? Paperwork?

"The weather has been impeccable today," Shang Qinghua said, at the same time Yue Qingyuan said, "How are things with Liu-shidi?"

Shang Qinghua stared at him. Yue Qingyuan stared back.

Wow! That question, straight out of the gate? Weren't their former engagements off limits as a topic of conversation? Weren't they supposed to have small talk first and coincidentally stumble upon it? Was Shang Qinghua showing more restraint than Sect-Leader-To-Be? Really?

"I thought Qiong Ding disciples were supposed to be diplomatic," Shnag Qinghua said.

"I thought my fiance wasn't supposed to make dramatic declarations of love to other men," Yue Qingyuan said.

Haha. Fuck. Fine. That was a point. In all honesty, Shang Qinghua hadn't thought the news would make it off An Ding and Bai Zhan, and even if it had, he hadn't thought Yue Qingyuan would care. Man was obsessed with his Xiao Jiu. Shang Qinghua fully expected Yue Qingyuan to drop all concerns in favor of running after that guy.

Speaking of which. "I'll tell you if you tell me how things are with Shen-shixiong," Shang Qinghua bargained.

Yue Qingyuan winced almost imperceptibly. "I hardly think that's of much interest," he said, like a lying hypocrite.

"Then you don't need to know anything about me and Liu-shidi, right?"

A pause. One. Two. Shang Qinghua watched, fascinated, as Yue Qingyuan's gaze skittered down and back up again.

"It isn't that I mind, if you and Liu-shidi are involved," Yue Qingyuan said. "It's only that I need to know about it."

"Because you're continuing your weird hatesex thing with Shen-shixiong and we need to have matching alibis?" Shang Qinghua said encouragingly.

"I don't have a weird hatesex thing with Shen-shidi," Yue Qingyuan said, which absolutely didn't convince Shang Qinghua that he didn't have a weird hate sex thing with Shen-shidi.

"Of course," Shang Qinghua said

"I don't even know what that means," Yue Qingyuan said.

"Don't worry about it."

"It's not hate."

"So it is sex!" Shang Qinghua didn't say, because a long-buried sense of shame within him reared its head. There was something a little sad, a little desperate, a little hurting in Yue Qingyuan's voice. It's not hate. It wouldn't be, from Yue Qingyuan. But from Shen Qingqiu? It didn't sound like they'd ever really worked out the Qiu Manor thing, so things had to be questionable -- nothing as straightforward as pure love. And if it wasn't love, then Yue Qingyuan had to be wondering. What sort of feelings were tangled in that mess they called a relationship, anyway?

"I'm not in love with Liu-shidi," Shang Qinghua offered as a concession. He contemplated reaching over to pat Yue Qingyuan on the shoulder. You know, as a sympathetic 'that's rough, buddy' gesture between bros. They were currently across from each other, so this seemed logistically difficult, but he could totally walk over if --

"Is it a weird hatesex thing?" Yue Qingyuan said.

Shang Qinghua choked on nothing. Yue Qingyuan smiled, just a little wry.

Yue-shixiong apparently had a sense of humor under all that perfect proper Qiong Ding bullshit!

"This is why we should get married," Shang Qinghua said. "We can have our own weird hatesex thing. It'd make Liu-shidi explode."

[ohnoitstbskyen]

100 songs to get to know me

I posted this image over on the bluesky, and it got like 100 likes, so now here we are. I was going to write them all up here, but Tumblr imposes a 10 video limit on embeds per post which I find infuriating.

So! You can read the first ten entries here, but you can read the entire list here: https://tbskyen.bearblog.dev/100-songs-to-get-to-know-me/

1. ABBA - Lay All Your Love On Me

I genuinely don't quite know if my enjoyment of ABBA is something I came by honestly, or something which is simply genetically engineered into my Scandinavian soul. I remember hearing my mom blasting their songs on the home stereo in my childhood, and the association has put permanent nostalgia blinders on me for all of ABBA's greatest hits. Still, I think the beat is undeniable and the mournful tone of the chorus adds some real melancholy to the dramatic plea at the core of the song.

2. Afenginn - Oestrogenmanipuleret Basilisk

Afenginn describe themselves as "bastard etno-punk" which is probably as good a description as you're going to get. There's a lot of klezmer and eastern European folk influences here, but what is more important about Afenginn's best songs is that they go hard as f*ck and it's an absolute blast to dance to them at a show. They played this the first time I saw them live, and the rhythm comes back every time I hear it again. Good times!

3. Afenginn - Ralli in D Minor

With 100 slots to fill, I am giving myself permission to allocate two slots to Afenginn, and for the same reason. Ralli in D Minor is less of a dance tune to me, and more of a headbanger, but with a sufficiently loud subwoofer and a game crowd, you could f*ing mosh to this.

4. Anamanaguchi - Prom Night

I discovered Anamanaguchi as the composers of the title track to the Nerdist podcast back in the day, and being unfamiliar with the concept of chiptunes, I was drawn in initially by the sheer novelty of hearing the squeaks and bloops of my gaming childhood employed towards rock tunes and combined with "real" instruments.

Beyond the gimmick, though, Anamanaguchi won me over fully with the Scott Pilgrim game soundtrack, and then 2013's Endless Fantasy, where the gimmick of chiptune nostalgia noise (at least for me) finally coalesced into something that felt entirely like its own thing. Plus I'm a sucker for exactly this kind of bright dance pop, and Bianca Raquel's vocals here are a perfect match for the tone of the music.

5. Jennifer Hudson - Memory

2019s Cats is a fascinating fucking disaster. Tom Hooper is the worst director of musicals in my living memory, the abuse of the VFX staff extended beyond brutal crunch and absurd challenge imposed by a director who had no idea what the hell he was asking them to do all the way into an astonishingly arrogant and condescending joke from Rebel Wilson and James Corden at the expense of workers who were the last people at fault for the disaster that the movie became (look in the fucking mirror, Wilson and Corden, your performances were rancid).

Still, the silver lining of Cats is we got to hear Jennifer Hudson shake the world on its foundations with her rendition of Memory. I don't give a shit what anyone says, this performance is transcendent and no amount of institutional failure can dim its quality.

6. Annette Bjergfeldt - Min Bærende Bjælke

Annette is one of my mother's oldest friends, and a prolific singer-songwriter now turned author. I've been going to her concerts since I was a little child, and while I am absolutely not the target audience for any of it, it has stuck with me as part of my musical vocabulary deep into adulthood.

She has experimented with brass band accompaniment a few times, but for my money, nothing quite comes close to the floating, optimistic vibe of Min Bærende Bjælke. It sounds like a very particular kind of lasting romance, which of course is also what the lyrics are about.

7. Hozier - Blood Upon the Snow

We'll get more than one Hozier song on this list, but Blood Upon the Snow stands out to me as a song which easily transcends the videogame soundtrack promotional tie-in nature of its conception. Bear McCreary's hurdy gurdy and lyrics about surviving through adversity by holding on to existence with your teeth and nails... yeah, it hits with me. There's something real in that.

"The trees deny themselves nothing that makes them grow, no rainfall, no sunshine, no blood upon the snow." Something about that feels real.

8. The Beatles - Something

idk if I really need to write anything about George Harrison's most famous love song that hasn't been written more extensively by a million dad-rock enthusiasts before me.

I will say, this is one of the few songs I listen to regularly that justify the expensive audiophile headphones I invest in. There's a LOT to hear on a good, lossless, original mix of this song, if you're the kind of pervert who gets off to listening to a song a hundred times to focus on different parts of the soundscape. (it's me, I am the pervert)

9. Blink-182 - Adam's Song

I discovered a lot of my music taste as a young man from extremely low-resolution AMVs that my friend used to download off sketchy file-sharing sites. Blink-182 entered my musical lexicon through the one above, specifically, piggybacking off of my teenage love of Dragon Ball.

I never really grokked what the lyrics were actually about, until relistening to the song years later, but something about the minor-key wail of the thing really sat with my angsty teenage soul and has stuck with me ever since. I cannot listen to this song without that music video playing in my head, the song will forever belong to Vegeta.

There's remastered versions of this AMV out there, apparently, but if it's not 144p with tinny audio, it's just not right. That's not what the song is supposed to sound like, not to me.

10. Blink-182 - Miss You

Blink-182 is one of those bands I discovered via anime AMVs and listened to obsessively for a period as a teenager (The Offspring will show up later on this list), and then fell entirely out of touch with for years until discovering much later in life that they did, in fact, keep releasing music. I Miss You from their self-titled 2003 album felt, when I discovered it sometime in the early 2010s, like a much more mature and interesting sound from a band which had gotten stuck associated with my adolescent superpower kung-fu fantasies which I was, at the time, feeling a bit embarrassed about.

The song had a resurgence on TikTok a little while ago as a meme template, which made me listen to the albums again, and rediscover yet again that Blink-182 is, in fact, still putting out albums.

---

The rest of the list is here: https://tbskyen.bearblog.dev/100-songs-to-get-to-know-me/

[solxamber]

Hello! I saw that you said it was fine to request still, so if it's alright I'll give you my thoughts/promt if it's fine by you.

Also wanted to say i love you're fanfics! Super entertaining and well written so i was wondering if you could write one that's Vil x mermaid! Reader (romantic) the prompt is-

Vil has been slowly falling in love with the reader; not just by her beauty but her personality the two have these little meet ups where she sings/the two talk endlessly and just enjoy eachothers company, but what I'm getting with this,is that Vil would take time to process his feelings but eventually he gets there and confesses. Maybe it could be a friends x lovers?

whatever you want to do with this idea is cool beans, I just really want to see what you come up with!! Alright,that's all much love ♡♡

Vil Schoenheit x Mermaid! Reader

the idea is so big brained!!! I hope you like it <3

Vil has always appreciated beauty. He lives and breathes it—the art of refinement, the craft of elegance. But lately, beauty has taken on a new form for him, and it looks suspiciously like you. He can’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but he knows it’s tied to those secret meetups you two share by the shoreline.

You’re a mermaid, and you make a point to remind him of that every time he mentions something about the "unbearable" human world. You always roll your eyes dramatically, your tail shimmering in the moonlight as you laugh at his over-the-top complaints about fashion disasters, inferior skincare routines, or the latest scandal in the entertainment industry.

"You humans are so fragile," you often tease, resting your chin on your hand as you float lazily in the water. "Honestly, Vil, it’s a wonder you haven’t all crumbled under the weight of your own drama."

He gives you a sharp look every time, but there’s always a trace of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "And yet, here you are, meeting up with one of these fragile humans every week."

"I didn’t say you weren’t entertaining," you retort with a sly grin. "It’s like watching a soap opera, except with more skincare tips."

Vil chuckles, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, which somehow manages to stay flawless even in the salty sea breeze. "You’d be lost without my advice. I’ve seen your seaweed face masks."

You pretend to gasp, putting a hand to your chest. "Seaweed is a perfectly valid skincare ingredient! In fact, it’s far superior to that toxic concoction you call moisturizer."

"Seaweed smells like the bottom of the ocean."

"And you don’t?"

That’s how it always goes—banter, teasing, comfortable silences filled with the soft crashing of waves, and eventually, music. You sing sometimes, when the mood strikes you. It’s never anything planned; it just happens. Vil always listens, captivated, because your voice is something he can't quite describe. It's raw, but pure, untouched by the expectations of the stage or the pressures of fame.

Sometimes he sings back, though he pretends he’s only doing it because you insist. "Come on, Vil. Just a few bars. You know you want to."

"I am a professional," he says, crossing his arms. "I don’t perform on a whim."

But you know how to coax him, and soon enough, he’s harmonizing with your lilting melody, his smooth, controlled voice intertwining with yours in a way that makes the night feel magical.

It’s been months of these little meetings, and Vil has never been quite sure what to make of you. You’re beautiful, of course—stunning, really—but that’s not what has him coming back to the shore every week.

It’s the way you make him feel completely at ease, the way you challenge him without being mean-spirited, the way you listen to him vent about things you couldn’t care less about yet still offer thoughtful responses.

And then there’s that laugh of yours—sharp, like the crack of a wave against the rocks, but warm enough to make him feel lighter every time he hears it.

He’s always valued control—over his image, his career, his emotions—but with you, he’s found himself slipping. He realizes, with some discomfort, that he’s been looking forward to these meetings a little too much. It’s not just the singing or the banter anymore. It’s... you.

That thought bothers him, because Vil Schoenheit does not get "distracted." He doesn’t fall for anyone. At least, not like this.

But here he is, walking down to the beach again, heart beating faster than usual as he anticipates seeing you. Tonight, though, something feels different. Maybe it’s the way the moon is hanging lower than usual, casting everything in a silvery glow, or maybe it’s the fact that Vil can’t deny his feelings anymore.

You’re already waiting for him when he arrives, sitting on a rock with your tail swishing lazily in the water. "Late again, Mr. Superstar?" you call out teasingly.

"I’m fashionably late, thank you," Vil replies, though there’s a softness in his voice. He takes a seat on the sand, smoothing out his coat with practiced precision before looking at you.

"You’re slipping," you say, eyeing him critically. "Usually, you’d have a comeback ready. What’s the matter? One of your beauty products finally backfired?"

Vil snorts softly, shaking his head. "No, though if it did, you’d be the first to hear about it." He looks out at the horizon, his expression thoughtful. "I’ve just been... thinking."

"Uh-oh," you say, folding your arms over your chest. "That sounds dangerous. What about?"

He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to approach this. Vil has always been calculated, measured in everything he does. Confessing his feelings, though? That’s not something he’s prepared for. He glances at you, and suddenly, the words start spilling out before he can stop them.

"You know, for someone who claims not to care about humans, you certainly seem to enjoy spending time with me."

You raise an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the shift in tone. "Are you fishing for compliments, Vil? Because I don’t need to stroke your ego any more than it already is."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, it’s just... You’re always teasing me about humans, about my world, but you keep coming back. Why?"

You tilt your head, considering his question for a moment before replying. "Because you’re interesting, Vil. You’re not like the others I’ve met. Most humans get caught up in themselves, but you... you’ve got a spark. You’re genuine, even when you’re being all high-and-mighty. And, well, it’s not like I’ve got a lot of options for good conversation under the sea."

Vil’s heart skips a beat at your words, and he finds himself smiling despite the nerves building up inside him. "I see. So I’m just your entertainment, then?"

"Oh, definitely," you say, grinning. "But you’re also... more than that."

Vil blinks, his breath catching slightly. "More?"

You nod, your expression softening. "You’re someone I look forward to seeing. I like being around you, Vil. You make me feel... seen. And I’m not just talking about my looks. It’s like you actually care about me as a person, not just a pretty face."

He swallows, his chest tightening as he listens to your words. This is it. He can’t hold it in any longer. "I do care," he says quietly, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "More than you know."

You look at him, your teasing expression fading as you sense the weight behind his words. "Vil...?"

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself. "I think... I think I’m falling for you."

There. He said it. And now his heart is racing, his palms are sweating, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Vil Schoenheit is unsure of himself. He braces for your reaction, half expecting you to laugh it off or tease him like you always do.

But you don’t. Instead, you blink at him, your mouth opening and closing as you process his confession. "You... what?"

Vil clears his throat, forcing himself to meet your gaze. "I’m in love with you," he repeats, more confidently this time. "I’ve been falling for you for a while now, and I didn’t want to admit it, but... I can’t keep it to myself anymore."

There’s a moment of stunned silence before you break into a wide smile. "Vil, you absolute idiot."

He recoils slightly. "I beg your pardon?"

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "I’ve been waiting for you to say something for months now! I thought I was going to have to spell it out for you."

Vil blinks, taken aback. "You... you knew?"

"I didn’t know know," you admit, "but I had a feeling. You’re not exactly subtle, Vil."

He stares at you, a mixture of relief and embarrassment flooding his system. "Why didn’t you say anything, then?"

"Because I wanted to see how long it would take for you to figure it out yourself," you say with a smirk, leaning forward slightly. "I didn’t think it’d take this long, though."

Vil narrows his eyes, though there’s no malice in his expression. "You’re insufferable."

"And yet, you love me," you tease, reaching out to cup his cheek gently. "What does that say about you?"

He huffs, though his heart is fluttering in his chest at your touch. "That I have terrible taste."

You laugh again, the sound bright and infectious, and before Vil can say anything else, you pull him in for a kiss. It’s soft, gentle, and Vil feels like his entire world is melting away in that moment. The taste of saltwater lingers on your lips, and for the first time in a long time, Vil isn’t worried about appearances or perfection. He’s just... happy.

When you finally pull away, both of you are smiling like fools. "So," you say, your voice teasing, "does this mean we’re a thing now?"

Vil rolls his eyes, though he can’t stop the grin spreading across his face. "I suppose it does."

"Good," you say, leaning in to kiss him again. "Because I’m not letting you back out of this one, Mr. Superstar."

Vil chuckles against your lips, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to pull you even closer. "Oh, trust me," he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, "I have no intention of backing out. But I do expect you to stop wearing those dreadful seaweed masks."

You gasp dramatically, pulling back just far enough to look him in the eye. "Excuse you! Seaweed is nature’s skincare miracle, Vil. Just because it’s not wrapped in fancy packaging doesn’t mean it’s ineffective."

He raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Perhaps, but you’ll have to let me introduce you to something a little more refined. If we’re going to be a couple, I simply can’t allow my significant other to use subpar beauty products."

"Oh, is that so?" you ask, amusement twinkling in your eyes. "I didn’t realize I was dating a beauty tyrant."

"It’s for your own good," he says with mock seriousness, though there’s a warmth behind his gaze that betrays his affection. "Think of it as part of your glow-up. You’ll thank me later."

You can’t help but laugh, your heart swelling with affection for the man in front of you. It’s strange, really—how quickly this has all come together, yet how natural it feels. You never would’ve guessed that your casual banter and late-night talks would lead to this, but now that it’s happening, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Vil reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle but purposeful. "You know," he says softly, his usual sharp tone melting into something softer, "I’ve never met anyone quite like you."

You smile at him, feeling the warmth of his words settle into your chest. "I could say the same about you, Vil. You’re not as scary as people think, you know."

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. "That’s a well-maintained persona, I’ll have you know. Can’t let people think I’m soft."

"Oh, but you are," you tease, poking him lightly in the chest. "At least with me."

He scoffs lightly, though there’s no real bite behind it. "I’ll deny it if you tell anyone."

You laugh, resting your forehead against his as you savor the closeness between you. For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel completely at peace, as if everything has fallen into place. Vil, with all his elegance, wit, and sharpness, has somehow become the person you’ve come to care about more than you ever thought possible. And now, as he holds you close, you know that you wouldn’t trade this for the world.

"I’m glad it’s you," you whisper, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. "I never thought I’d fall for a perfectionist with an ego the size of the sun, but here we are."

He lets out a soft, genuine laugh, his arms wrapping around you more securely. "I never thought I’d fall for someone who argues with me over skincare, but I suppose life has a sense of humor."

"Looks like we’re both in for a wild ride, then," you say with a grin.

Vil hums in agreement, his hand gently stroking your hair. "As long as it’s with you, I think I can handle it."

You smile, feeling your heart soar at his words. There’s a certain magic to this moment—a kind of fairy tale that feels like it’s been written just for the two of you. And as you sit there, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something truly beautiful.

"Well then," you say, pulling back slightly to look him in the eye, "looks like you’re stuck with me, Schoenheit."

"Forever, I hope," he says softly, before pulling you in for another kiss—this one longer, deeper, filled with the promise of something lasting.

And in that moment, with the moon shining overhead and the waves lapping gently against the shore, you know that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together..

Masterlist

[ebonyslasher]

Can you do more yandere slashers part 2 please.

Hopefully, I'm getting better at writing yandere characters! There are some possible triggering themes ahead so read with caution.

Roses are red, violets are blue

Here's

Yandere!Slashers Pt. 2!

A strained sob bounced against the dingy walls that you were held captive in. Your existence, normally happy and calm, turned desperate and miserable. You looked around with teary eyes, taking in your unfortunate new home. The air was littered with specks of dust, paint torn from the walls, and all the windows crudely covered and broken. It was a scene taken from a horror movie that you desperately did not want to be in. The tears silently flow down your face before the raggedy door flings open.

A shadowy, foreboding figure stood tall at the door frame. You recognized that figure, it was the one who kidnapped you to this horrid place.

“Please ... .please let me go…,” you whimpered out, your sobbing revitalizing before this monster. He stepped forward and you shrunk back. He stops. The next movement he made your heart stop. Michael flings a body beside you. The patch of light coming from the mostly covered window showed the gouged out eyes of your crush. They lay lifeless and their once beautiful face was now covered with blood. 

The image of a dead body, especially of someone you knew, caused you to hyperventilate. Feeling an extreme urge to flee, you stand up and attempt to run towards the door. Michael grabs your arm painfully and throws you down.

“Let me go, let me go! You monster!” you screamed. You attempt to stand again when Michael kicks at your legs. He quickly places his dirty boot on your right leg, right on the tibia. Stomping down, Michael relishes in your painful cry after the sickening snap of your bone. You could not run from him and he could not be happier.

—--

Michael knew everyone who lived in Haddonfield. Most by their identifiable features and home addresses.

Michael stalked all his victims, but only for a short time as their existence would not last long.

However, if he becomes obsessed, not only will he stalk them every single day. He will keep them alive for an undecided amount of time.

As you place your existence in Haddonfield, Michael becomes hooked. 

He paid attention to your needs, placing toiletries that you ran out of/low on in various places in your house. It escalates into leisure items that you spoke about with your friends. Things that he knew that you knew you did not purchase

Making himself known, he begins to appear and reappear in different places, from a distance. Toying with you.

Anyone who will get in the way will be removed, permanently. Especially any love interest.

He is not above harming you to make you submit, stay, and be quiet. He knew what was best for you.

Injuries looked especially good on you anyway

“Kitten ... .how disappointing,” Asa remarks, seeing the piss-poor excuse of a Valentine's Day present on his bed. It was made haphazardly, the paper mache butterfly looked tattered with paint, some sort of adhesive, and drenched paper.

Asa had shown you how to do the technique weeks ago, disguising the activity as a fun bonding moment. He made an off-handed comment that a paper mache insect would be a great gift for Valentine’s Day. Of course, his smart little kitty caught the hint. But, it was obvious that you did not practice enough. 

You sat upon the bed, head down in embarrassment at the state of your gift. “Asa, I tried! I really did! You know I’m not that good at-” You started to explain. Asa put his hand up and you stopped talking immediately.

“You had ample time to practice, y/n. But, you did not. Therefore, you will be punished. Get on all fours on top of your disaster,” Asa instructed coldly. You did so, feeling humiliated at the action. You desperately wanted to make this up to him while also feeling apprehension at the punishment. 

Asa starts to hit your back and ass with his hands. You endure, but the force of his hits ends up making you fall on top of your gift. The burn of his hits combined with the uncomfortable feeling of wet paper and glue slathering your stomach. It made you cry out, strengthening the boner Asa had. 

---

Anyone who’s moving, living, or even traveling through the town gets observed by Asa. When you arrive, you capture his interest in ways he never thought possible. 

He searched your name, address (and floor plan if available), and knew all your family members. He breaks in to look at everything you have.

 He had notes dedicated to what you like to eat, what size of clothes you wear, etc. 

Once he captures you, he doesn’t make you a part of his collection. Instead, you'll be his personal pet. A little kitty he can enjoy. 

Life was starting to get a little boring. Your existence changed his life. He just needed to train you so you would not be useless to him.

His training includes the way you react (in the way that he likes), enduring physical punishment and sexual sensory overloads, how to care for him correctly, etc. 

Any spouse, family, or friends that were living with you are now part of his collection. They would be a distraction to your duties.

If you perform extremely poorly, he will drag you across the floor to see any loved ones in the collection. Digging his fingers into your eyelids to force you to look at their display.

“Dr. Lecter?,” You asked as you knocked lightly on his office door. You let yourself into his practice, as was normal for your appointments. 

“Y/N, please come in,” he said smoothly so as to not betray his excitement at your arrival.

You plop down on the sofa across from him and your weekly sessions begin. You’d had them for a month now. It was last week when you noticed that you were getting weirdly attached and attracted to Dr. Hannibal. It wasn’t right with the power dynamics in your current relationship. Also, all the blaring issues he knew about your life. This did not dissuade your budding feelings, with the unintentional help of Hannibal. He did not know that your conflicted romantic feelings were about him. It was like he always knew the right thing to say. He spurred your mind to think outside the box or his perspective. Everything he said, he seemed to always be right about. 

“.....I feel a romantic connection to this person, but I know I shouldn’t,” You say.

“And why not?” He questioned

“Our relationship right now…it would be inappropriate to say the least.”

Hannibal leaned forward, his face schooled in its perfect neutral expression. Internally, he was fighting a smirk to bless his sharp features. “And what is love without risk?”

“....I…”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t know, y/n. I am merely throwing out a different perspective. You like this person right? What makes it inappropriate?”

“His…status and title do. The power dynamics would be unequal,” you say, trying to be as vague as possible.

“It will always be unequal. You possess powers that he would not have. And vice versa. Titles mean nothing. You see, I am your psychiatrist. I know who you are, I can see the power that you have. A relationship between you and me would be risky, in the eyes of others. But, only our eyes matter in the end.”

“A relationship between us two…?”

“Just as an example, Y/n. To help you see the big picture.”

--

You were his patient. He fell in love, becoming obsessed with you. You looked like the perfect partner, one to parade around at the envy of others. 

He would make sure to format your mind to see how perfect you two would be. That he would be the only one for you. 

Hannibal being Hannibal does this covertly, planting seeds into your head every session. He even stops taking payment for your appointments, to ensure you would still come.

The medication he would prescribe you was a level of biochemical control over your emotions. He knew the side effects and how the medication would affect your mood after you took them. 

He acts like the perfect gentleman. He has perused your home, making sure to have items that you need or want coincidentally at appointments. 

Anyone who is a threat to you or the budding relationship will be removed.

You will see them for the last time, served as a decadent meal. He will feed them to you, without your knowledge

“Taylor Layknn’s party is in two days, I’ve taken the liberty of picking out your look for you,” Patrick says dismissively. He thrust the outfit into your arms as he checked his phone. You stood flabbergasted at his gall.

“Patrick, I already had an outfit planned out,” you explain. You look over the outfit, trying to imagine how it would look on you.

“Yes I know, but I saw this while shopping and thought about you immediately. I knew it would be flattering on you. It goes with what I’m wearing. We’ll look great together.” Patrick looks straight into your eyes, watching your reaction.

You felt annoyed, a little offended, but flattered that he thought of you. “That’s sweet, but I don’t think that’s exactly my style.” You began to hand the outfit back to him. He thrusts the outfit back against your chest.

“It is your style and you don’t even know it. Here, look at how the color compliments your skin. How it’ll hug your figure in the right places. You know, most of these bitches don’t even know how to dress. You’ll be the talk of the night if you just listen to me.”

--

He tries to shelter your interactions from others, feeding you lies and pretending like he is giving you inside information to gain your trust

He purposefully talks bad and compassionate about others to uplift himself in your presence, disguising it as competition.

He is always extra with his appearance but was even more so when he knew you were going to be there.

He even wears the cologne that you love. He sends you flowers, your favorite ones, to show how much attention he paid to you

Once he has you wrapped around his finger, He tells you what to say and how to act. He needs you to be the perfect partner that even Paul Allen would be jealous of. 

The desperate yuppie that he is needs you to look and act a certain way to fit in with the 'in-group'.

He buys you clothing and expects you to wear it for him. He will send you makeup tutorial videos that he likes.

Patrick will also send photos and videos of people with what he thinks is the ultimate body type. He will do whatever to shape and mold you into his perfect partner.

Patrick has a doll that looks like you in his office drawer. He dresses up in what he would want you to wear. He has another at home where he acts out fantasies of your eventual marriage. 

He constantly questions where you are or slyly questions others. He gets mad if he isn’t invited anywhere, especially to his favorite place.

If he could, he dreams of hiring you as his personal assistant (if that was your profession). He has thought many times about firing his current assistant just to have you perched there, sitting pretty.  

[shadowmaat]

Jedi Service Corps

The Legends-fueled propaganda of "bad students get sent to the Agricorp/Services" has always bothered me. First of all, forcing kids into a career not of their choosing isn't the best way to encourage them to perform well.

The Services in general seem to get a bad rap, and TBH it's kind of bizarre to assume that every kid who winds up being taken in by the Jedi wants to grow up to be a cop. LOL!

There is so much untapped potential being ignored, and even within the four pseudo-canon branches there's a lot to explore.

Agriculture. Farmers Without Borders. LOL! It isn't just about growing plants, it's about analyzing trends, understanding ecosystems, geology, climatology, politics, etc. There's mechanical engineering so you know how to fix the machines that do the hardest labor (often illegally, given corporate software locks and so forth). Probably a lot of fiddly stuff with plant genetics, too, given similar issues with seed corporations.

Being Jedi, I'm sure they're also aware of the need to include "ornamental" plants to help with the emotional welfare of hurting/devastated populations.

Education. This field must be fucking wild. Sure, you have your future creche masters and archivists, but I imagine there are those who do public outreach, too, and go to schools to teach kids about what the Jedi do beyond waving laser swords. There's probably also a need for teachers in isolated/rural areas to help with basic things like reading, writing, and maths. Ditto areas devastated by wars and natural disasters, where kids need a safe distraction from trauma. I bet Educorp and Agricorp team up more often than people might think.

There's also the sheer variety of topics. Even something basic like history will have a wide net. Galactic history, region-specific, planetary, etc. And then there's the arts. Music, singing, dance, physical media, holo media, theatre, and so much more. There will be differences between species, understanding what they need to know, how they learn best, and what their aging process is like. Teachers to cover the full range of mortal maturity, from teaching toddlers to old-timers. And don't get me started on teaching "forbidden" topics in repressive communities.

Medical. LOL. Every. Single. Species. And often subtypes between them. So many specialists needed. And again, you probably have a number that specialize in helping in disaster areas. Hello, Educorp, let's help teach these people how to best care for themselves. Maybe Agricorp can help with showing folks how to purify their air and water. There must be SO many diseases, some of which have inoculations and so that don't. And again, figuring ways to smuggle medicine and supplies to those who need it despite the extortionist rates corporations charge. Repairing faulty equipment, finding work-arounds when the parts aren't there. Triage. Using the Force to help heal is all well and good, but sometimes they still have to get hands-on.

Even with non-emergency stuff, I imagine they're still kept busy. The idea of a Jedi "country doctor" settled in some remote area sounds delightful. Communities that get "lost" in the shuffle or otherwise overlooked. Veterinary medicine as a sub-specialty.

Jedi having a special "knack" for determining what's wrong with someone, finding early warning signs before it's too late, etc. Comforting the dying. Comforting the survivors. ALL the mental health stuff and neurodivergence.

Exploration. Jedi Starfleet. LOL! It isn't all about discovering new worlds, though. Sometimes it's rediscovering planets and cultures that have been forgotten. Charting new hyperlane routes and hoping the end doesn't pop you out in the middle of a star.

I betcha you could fold so many things into this one. Botany. Archaeology. Xenoanthropology. Medicine, of course, since new worlds/people means new poisons, venoms, and diseases. New or ancient languages? It'd help to have someone around who could work on translating. Diplomats to help you talk to people. Geologists. Zoologists. A bit of everything.

Sure, there'd be room for solo missions, but I imagine there'd be bigger ships that they'd launch from. A place to come back to so the brains can pore over everything you brought back and see what they can determine from it. And big ships (or any ships really) means pilots, engineers, general crew, logistics, and all those fun things.

Anyway, I can see plenty of room for additional corps, too, but of the ones that get mentioned in Legends there's still a huge playing field.

[clockwaysadmin]

The Fic That I'm Not Writing Update Subscription Post

(The title is, obviously, a joke. I am writing this. Just not letting it stress me! It will get a real title when it goes up on Ao3.)

Ship: Dead on Main, Danny Fenton/Jason Todd CW: (updating as the series continues) Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Minor Injuries

Someone moved into the apartment below Jason's- an apartment that wasn't for rent. Turns out that Danny is is an absolute disaster with the self-preservation skills of a wet paper bag. He's also adorable. Jason takes it on himself to look out for Danny- both as himself and as Red Hood. What Jason could never have expected was for Danny to have plans of his own- plans that involve dating both of Jason's personas. The Goons™️think this is amazing. Good on the Boss and the Boss's boy toy for getting a twink!

All parts are being posted here on Tumblr in their first draft version. This fic is being posted out of order as inspiration strikes. There will be an update given when it goes live on Ao3.

All things related to this fic can be found in the 'the fic that I'm not writing' tag on @clockwayswrites. Major links are below.

Timeline- subject to change and my whims:

I'm (not) writing this hella out of order, as scenes and polls want to be written (the bastards)

Jason discovers Danny

Accidental Sugar Daddying Start

Shopping Montage

Something something something

A fool tries to mug Danny

Self Defense Lessons (Danny realized Jason is Red Hood)

Jason meets feral!Danny

Jason and Danny post RH meeting

The Midterm Zombie

Thirst Trap Lessons

Danny propositions Hood

Jason is Confused™️

Dick meets Danny (snippet)

Goons confront Hood

Hood tells Danny to ask Jason and then panics

Jason says yes

idk some cute relationship shit

Paulina Visits Gotham

Put a Leash on it (it being Danny)

Block Party

Jason whines to Dick

Tim meets Danny

More Bats meet Danny

(will this be the fic I'll finally need to label over T?)

you'll learn more as I don't write

maybe

if I were writing it

Narrator voice: stuff happens

Danny is not a morning person

My writing is better than this list. Of course, I'm clearly not writing this.

How to Subscribe:

Website: click on the ... in the upper right and 'Subscribe to Conversation' App: click on 'notes' in the bottom left then the bell icon in the upper right

(For those very few with ability to comment on this post, DO NOT.)

[binniebakery]

🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇷​ ​🇫​​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇼​​🇪​​🇷​? ❀🥐

Non Idol AU Soobin x Fem!Reader, Fluff!

♡ Summary: For years, Soobin has had the biggest crush on the daughter of the town's local bakery and flower shop. Just when Soobin decides he's comfortable settling with being acquaintances, a misunderstanding drives him to reveal the feelings he's kept hidden for so long! ♡ Recipe Ingredients: tooth rotting fluff, featuring yeonjun as soobin's unofficial rival, soobin pining, slight cursing!, not proofread ♡ Recipe Notes: guess whos baccck!? woo its FINALLY out! I'm so sorry for the wait everyone! this is probably the only wip that i was continuously motivated to write for.. so i hope this wasn't too cheesy >< enjoy!

It all started the first day he ever laid eyes on you.

That charming smile that captivated his attention the second he walked through the door, your face lighting up at the sound of the bell chiming at his arrival.

“Welcome to Flowers and Flour! How may I help you?”

It was over for him the moment your warm voice hit his ears, the tenderness and soft notes that brought immense joy to his day whenever he walked in.

Soobin was the son of the town’s local catering service. If he wasn’t busy with school, he was helping his mother organize her clients and help deliver and pick up orders for her on that moped his father got him for Christmas years ago.

You were the daughter of the town’s local bakery and flower shop. It was an odd combination really, a bakery downstairs with a flower shop running in the back? It worked well though, Soobin had more than one reason to visit you. His mom needed extra cupcakes for a wedding? He was always the first one to run to your shop. His mom wanted some flower decorations for an event? Once again, Soobin ran through the double doors of your establishment.

For as long as Soobin could remember, he had the biggest crush on you. It was obvious to everyone else in town, except for you.

Though he never really was good at flirting was he? Soobin’s first delivery was almost a disaster, he was 13 when he started helping his mom with her catering. Luck wasn’t on his side that day as he proceeded to fall off his bike and drop the entire box of dozen glazed donuts he was supposed to bring to a child’s birthday party.

Of course, he was a quick thinker. So the first thing Soobin did was bike his way over to the small bakery and flower shop his mother always worked with, rushing in through the doors as he was covered in cuts and bruises. It didn’t matter, no pain could be worse than the scolding he would get from his mother if she found out.

There you were, freshly, first day on the job and your father had just taught you how to use the cash register. You twiddled your thumbs nervously as he worked relentlessly in the back to finish baking that afternoon's set of cupcakes. 

So when you hear the familiar twinkle of bells ringing you feel the color melt off your face as you look up. This was your first day after all, what was the slogan your parents taught you to say to guests? Were you even supposed to take orders? You were only twelve!

“H- hi!.. Um.. welcome to flour and flower— no! Flowers with flour?...” You furrowed your eyebrows and look at the small napkin filled with your scribbled notes. “A- ah sorry! Um welcome to Flowers.. And Flour! H- how can I help you!?” Your voice shook as you sat straight up, giving your best (and awkwardest) smile.

You weren’t expecting there to be a boy with messy hair and cuts on his knees and a half-empty box of donuts standing in the doorway. The way his hoodie fit him slightly too big, something that he would grow into as he got older and taller. 

Slight sweat formed around his forehead and neck from the summer heat. His denim shorts wore a slight tear on the hem from the fall he had from his small bike. His cute button nose scrunched up as the stinging sensation on his knees reminded him of why he was there in the first place.

And Soobin wasn’t expecting such a pretty girl his age to be working the cash register.

“Uh– yes! Um..” Soobin sheepishly scratches the back of his neck as he looks around the bakery to avoid your large innocent eyes staring at him curiously. He’d never been inside actually, the colors were bright, sweet, and pastel– and most of all welcoming, just like your smile.

You’re tilting your head at the way the boy’s worn-out sneakers shifted in his spot. What were you supposed to do when a customer didn’t answer you?

“C- C-an.. um I..” Soobin’s face is flushed red and your eyebrows furrow together even deeper. Just as you are about to turn and call for your father to come help, Soobin immediately reaches over the counter, dropping the crushed donut box, and covers your mouth.

“Shhh!! D- don’t tell anyone! If an adult finds out they’ll tell my mom! And m- my mom cannot know about this” the young boy rambles. Your large eyes flicker between the door behind you leading to the kitchen and back to Soobin. You nod your head in agreement to say silent.

“S- sorry..” Soobin mumbles as he pulls away, wiping his hands on his baggy shorts. He explains everything to you, from the birthday party to his failure to properly ride a bike. You couldn’t help but feel pity for the boy. It was your first day too after all so you would definitely feel the same way if you were in his shoes.

“I think I can.. Maybe give you some donuts?” 

Now, looking back on this now as an adult, you would have charged the young man, or at least given him a discount. But.. as a young innocent pre-teen.. the thought didn’t cross your mind once.

After all, on your first day working you weren't expecting an odd, clumsy, and cute boy would pop up in the shop. So were you really going to be thinking rationally?

So you gave Soobin a fresh box of donuts right from the shelf. Even offered a muffin for his safe journey.  All for free.

Of course, your father notices the missing pastries, one thing leads to another and both you and Soobin end up getting into a lot of trouble.

What you didn’t know is that later that evening Soobin found himself thinking about the cute girl with pigtails that was almost too short to reach over the counter. Even blushing at the thought of seeing you again and vowing to himself he would marry that sweet girl who looked past his awkward exterior and gave him that gentle sunrise of a smile.

Years later, Soobin’s promise to himself is looking less and less possible by the day.

You looked forward to Soobin’s visits. Although you two weren’t close, you’ve always considered him to be a friend. Throughout the years, you managed to form a small bond with him whenever you had the chance to see him. You both went to different schools and were simply too shy to ever ask to hang out outside of the shop, so your relationship stayed the same.

“Hey y/n.” Soobin gives you a shy smile as you finish setting up the display for the morning. Perfect, just like you were. And with the way you turn to him, hair pulled in a messy ponytail, face flushed from the physical work, and apron wrapped perfectly tight around your waist, you couldn’t have gotten any better in Soobin’s eyes.

“Hi Soobie! Here for those muffins?” You chirp as you lean over the counter to greet him. His heart flutters at the nickname. No matter how many times you’ve said it, you always manage to make his heart stop. Nothing was better than your voice calling out his name, especially the nickname you gave specifically to him.

“Mhm, large company party I think? I’m not too sure. Apparently, the guy’s been really pushing my mom’s buttons with his demands.” His laugh is airy and soft and you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm from the way his dimples dig deep into his cheeks. Of course, the boy fails to notice.

“Ah, I see. Give Mrs. Choi my hellos then.” You giggle, handing Soobin several large boxes. Said boxes were indeed quite heavy, your delicate fingers almost dropping them as you handed them over.

“Sure will. Oh, careful–! Gotcha!” Soobin is quick to place his hands under yours, helping you lift the boxes. You look up at him with eyes wide and mouth agape, heart pumping rapidly from the sudden contact. Soobin mirrors your expression and the two of you stay that way in silence for a few seconds.

The young man blinks and immediately flushes once more, face heating up more when he realizes he was touching your hand for too long. “S- sorry! U- um.. I’ll see you later yeah? Have a good rest of your day y/n!” Soobin fumbles as he quickly shuffles out the door to his moped.

You mentally kick yourself for letting the seconds pass without saying anything and Soobin gently plops his forehead on the handle of his vehicle, debating on just slamming his head on a brick wall for settling with the silence.

It was always like this, constant instances where he would get the perfect chance to confess but he always failed to let his feelings reach you. So after years of failed attempts, he settles with what you have. He’s just happy he gets to see you.

⋆｡°♡

It was Friday, the first day of your town's weekend summer festival. Soobin’s mother was as busy as ever, therefore so was he in trying to help her get things done. 

“Soobin! Can you come here please? I need you to run an errand for me!” Mrs. Choi calls and Soobin comes shuffling in from his room, slightly groggy from the nap he just had.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He mumbles as he rubs his eyes, fluffy hair sticking out in all directions.

“Could you run down to the grocery store or the bakery? It doesn’t matter I just need you to buy me flour.” Mrs. Choi mumbles as she digs into multiple containers. “Mr. Phillips is running some baking event but he’s already at the fairgrounds so I’m doing this as a favor. Could you just bring it to him for me?”

Now, Soobin was content with his position in your life. He was just glad he was able to get to see you any chance he got, and that you were still single. He’s (not-so) casually questioned if you’ve had a boyfriend before, and with a strawberry-red face you mumbled about your failed love life.

Don’t get him wrong– Soobin would always support you as long as you were happy, but something inside him feels a sense of relief knowing that there’s somewhat of a chance for him.

So of course instead of going to the closest grocery store, he’s going to stop by your place all the way across town to pick up some flour.

Soobin speeds down the street as quickly as the law would allow him. His anxious fingers tapped the handle of his moped as he waited for the light to turn green.

The festival was on your side of town, so the streets were busy, therefore causing horrible traffic as a result. Soobin groans as he taps his foot impatiently, here’s to another day where he was the cause of his own downfall!

It takes 15 minutes to reach that familiar street he grew to love. The festival around the area begins to grow more lively and both the bakery and flower shop seem to be flooded with visitors.

Soobin feels himself tensing up as he approaches the glass double doors that lead inside the bakery.

The bell rings as he makes his way inside, but the loud buzz of people’s demands and your poor mother running around the floor delivering orders as you ring up the other customers distracts you from noticing the tall boy. Your father bursts through the door right after Soobin, boxes with vases waiting to be decorated and used for arrangements in his arms. Soobin nods a hello. “Hey there Soobin! Nice seeing you!” He shouts above the noise with a grin. “I’m a little busy right now so I’m afraid I can’t help you with anything! Y/n is right over there if you need something!” He nods towards your direction and rushes past the doors leading to the flower shop. Soobin’s face holds a puzzled smile and he glances towards the checkout counter you were currently standing at.

That’s when he sees the bane of his existence. Soobin’s worst nightmare. Choi Yeonjun.

Soobin didn’t speak to Yeonjun often, but he knew two very important things that were all he needed. That Yeonjun was interested in you, and him and Soobin went to the same school. (Soobin cringes at the possibility of Yeonjun ever going to the same school as you. He’s thankful.) Yeonjun would visit your dad’s flower shop often. Even going as far as hinting multiple times if you’d like to go on a date. Luckily for Soobin, you never got the hint– and unfortunately for Soobin, that just made Yeonjun want to try harder.

What made Soobin tick even more was that Yeonjun flirted with everyone he saw. It was just a part of his charm, and as much as Soobin hates to admit it he wishes he had that same ability Yeonjun had. To speak to you freely and smoothly hint towards a date instead of the casual and mundane conversations he settled for every time he saw you. He wanted to be cool and charming, wanted to be outgoing and good at everything he did, just like that Choi Yeonjun.

But Soobin knew he would never get to that point, he considered himself clumsy, unathletic, nerdy, and awkward. All of the things that Yeonjun wasn’t.

So when Soobin spots Yeonjun cracking yet another flirty joke just to see your cheeks flush and you shyly tucking your hair behind your ear he makes it his personal mission to intervene.

“Look at you slacking off. Should get back to work instead of talkin’ to me so much y/n.” Yeonjun teases you and you roll your eyes with a smile. You weren’t exactly close but he was friendly and often offered to help your dad anytime he needed it.

“Well Yeonjun, I’m trying! You keep distracting me..!” You nudge him as you loudly respond over the customers' chatter. “You’re lucky nobody needs me right now. What did you want anyways?” you inquire with a tilt of your head. Soobin sees this from afar and finds it endearing, and much to his dismay so does Yeonjun.

“Nothing today actually–” “What?!” “I said nothing today! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to check out the festival with me?!” You furrow your eyebrows as your brain attempts to decipher Yeonjun’s words. “Check out what?!” 

Yeonjun lets out a laugh. Soobin bites his lip as his body unconsciously moves closer to the checkout counter. “The festival! You’re about to close soon right? Let's go, you and me!” Yeonjun repeats. This time he’s leaning over the counter, lips dangerously close to your face, and Soobin is about to explode from the sight.

“Well, actually I-” “Y/n! Hi! You’re not busy right?” Soobin blurts out as he shoves himself between Yeonjun and the counter. Yeonjun shoots him a puzzled look.

“Oh! Hi Soobin!” You smile, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck at witnessing the sudden interjection. “Um.. How can I help you?” Soobin’s adrenaline is bursting through his veins, sure he saved you from Yeonjun’s invitation, but now what?

Suddenly, two other customers walk into the store and the place seems to inconveniently become more lively by the second. Soobin feels his anxiety bubbling in his stomach as he stares at your face, how was he supposed to look at you with your hair softly tousled into a ponytail and your pretty lashes blinking against your cheeks? He wonders what you look like outside of uniform.

“Uh, Soobin? I kinda– Yes sir one moment!” You call out to an older gentleman requesting your attention. Soobin blinks and realizes he’s been standing awkwardly for too long, Yeonjun is currently watching the whole situation unfold with a lifted brow and arms crossed.

“Uh– My mom–!.. I want to tell you that I kind of– The festival–! Um..” Soobin grows more flustered by the second, unable to get anything out. He wants to tell you he needs flour, he wants to tell you he traveled all the way across town just to see you, he wants to tell you to ditch Yeonjun and go to the festival with him instead. But words seem to fail him in the moment.

“Soobin?.. Are you alrigh–”

It finally hits Soobin that if he wants to confess, he needs to do it now. He should have realistically done it sooner but the poor boy genuinely felt like your relationship would never get anywhere past “somewhat friends”. Now that Yeonjun is here though, he feels like if he doesn’t say anything now, he’ll be forever doomed to be second to Choi once again.

“Y/n… I um–  L- like you! I need flour.. Too!”

Soobin’s words sound jumbled but it’s enough to get the point across. At least that’s what he thinks.

“What?! Sorry, I can’t hear you!” You shout over the bakery ambiance.

“Flour! Uh.. Flour! I just um.. I need that! Yes! That thing you sell! Ha…” Soobin wants to curl up and rot in a hole. Both of you miss the way Yeonjun’s lips curl up into a small smirk.

“A Flower?!” Your eyebrows furrow deeper. Why would Soobin need a singular flower? You wonder.

“Ah! What? Uh fl- flour! Y- yes!” Soobin stutters once more and you nod confusingly, turning to the shelf behind you. Soobin’s eyes flicker to Yeonjun, mentally high-fiving himself for stepping in at the perfect time. He feels slightly bad but in his defense, he had eyes on you first!

Before Soobin’s guilt settles in for thinking such selfish thoughts, you hand him a sunflower.

His eyes widen and he looks back at you. Did you end up hearing his confession after all?

“Sorry guys I can’t talk! Soobin I’m sorry but this is all I can offer on such short notice! Yeonjun, I’ll speak with you after my shift is done! Just give me 10 minutes!” You flash an apologetic smile and head over to the small line of customers waiting to pay.

Soobin’s mouth hangs open, did you just reject him? Were you so guilty you couldn’t reject him that you just gave him a gift in hopes he wouldn’t take it too harshly? Is that why you said it was all you could offer?

Soobin stands dumbfounded. Yeonjun sighs and grabs him by the arm, pulling him out of the store to allow the other customers to squeeze in their place.

“Hey–! I- I need to talk to y/n wait!” Soobin yanks his arm away from Yeonjun with a huff.

“Can you chill for a second?! God, seeing you stand there looking like a fish out of water is stressing me out, dude.” Yeonjun sighs and rubs his temples in frustration. Soobin swallows and looks down at the floor, twiddling with the sunflower you gave him between his fingers. “Look. I know what’s going on here man, you’ve got a crush on y/n don’t you?”

Soobin’s jaw drops once again and he feels his face grow impossibly red. “H- how do you know?!”

“You literally said it inside the store just a few seconds ago..not to mention your game is the worst I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Right..” Soobin sighs and drops his shoulders in defeat. “Was it that bad?” Yeonjun grimaces, “Want me to tell you the truth?” Soobin groans, he already knows what’s coming. “Just say it already.”

“That was absolutely horrid to watch. Never seen a guy fumble that badly..” Yeonjun pinches the bridge of his nose and Soobin plops down on the bench next to them. He rests his head in his hands, maybe now would be a good time to just move cities. Forget today ever happened. Forget about the festival. Forget about you. Not to mention he’s even more embarrassed at the fact that Yeonjun was there to witness it all. The last person he wanted to see.

“Hey, hey. Look, there’s a bright side to this and I don’t think you realize– I don’t even think y/n realizes what just happened in there.”

Soobin’s head perks up, his face scrunched up in confusion. “What? Besides the fact that I just got horribly rejected– Oh God AND she doesn’t even give me the flour I needed! Y/n probably thought it would be awkward to keep talking to me and just sent me off with this.. pity gift!” Soobin exclaims as he waves the sunflower in his hand around.

Yeonjun slams his palm into his forehead and sighs, “No! Dude she misheard you completely, I’m almost certain y/n thought you wanted a flower from her, not flour.” It takes a few seconds for Soobin to properly register Yeonjun’s words. He replays the situation in his head, the way that none of you could possibly hear each other that well given how busy the bakery was in that moment. 

It would make sense. Yeonjun was standing right next to Soobin so he was the only one that would be able to properly hear him.

“Oh.. shit..” Soobin slumps further into the bench. “Really?”

“Yeah, and frankly can I be honest?” Soobin nods. “I didn’t know you even liked y/n like that. You seem to sort of keep things plain with her when you guys talk.” Soobin pouts at the comment. “Well, I try!.. was kind of playing the long game… I don’t really have the type of charisma you have Mr. Festival Guy!” Soobin retorts and Yeonjun gasps dramatically.

“Hey! Don’t blame me for your incompetence man... Plus, even if I do sort of like her, I know when to back out if it’s just going to end up as a competition. I’m not a douchebag.”

Yeonjun chuckles at Soobin’s shocked face. He notes that Soobin seems to be very expressive despite not speaking about his emotions. It seems to explain a lot about Soobin. “Wait, seriously? You’re willing to give her up that easily?” 

Yeonjun shrugs, “I mean don’t get me wrong she’s a cute girl, but I just wanted to get to know her more as a friend, what’s the harm in that?” Soobin bites his lower lip and looks away from Yeonjun. He feels awful now, assuming Yeonjun was the player type and you were just his next target. They never spoke at school but that was simply because while Soobin was shy and hung out with the nerdy and introverted students– Yeonjun was popular, and had many friends. Not to mention plenty of girls fought for his attention at school.

“Yeah.. guess you’re right.” Soobin mumbles. “Well… now what do I do?” Yeonjun taps his index finger on his chin. “I mean, she said she gets off work in a few minutes right? Why don’t you tell her what you really meant to say.”

Soobin scoffs as if Yeonjun’s idea is completely unrealistic and ridiculous. “Yeah right. You saw the way I get when I speak to her. I can’t even think properly..” Yeonjun sighs. “Well, you have to do it sometime dude.. Unless you want someone like me to scoop her up.” He teases.

Soobin’s eye twitches, he was definitely not going to give Yeonjun another chance to ask you out.

“Hey– okay, okay, fine I’ll talk to her.. I guess..” Soobin runs a hand through his hair. He honestly felt like the entire situation was a lost cause. “So just how am I going to confess to y/n?”

“Dude, I can’t help you with everything! Just speak from your heart.. Or whatever those cheesy romance movies say.” Yeonjun pats Soobin’s shoulder and stands up. “Look, you’ll figure something out. Tell her what comes to mind, that’s the way I roll at least.” Soobin stares at his feet in thought. He had so much to say, and quite frankly his feelings were so strong and complicated he was scared it would ruin the relationship you both currently had. 

“All I’m gonna say is if you don’t do it tonight, I will. Get in there and grab what you originally came there for.” Yeonjun nods towards the sunflower resting in Soobin’s hand. ”And I’m not just talking about the flour either. Be yourself.” Soobin looks at Yeonjun for the last time and stands up.

“Right. I’ll uh.. See you then. Thanks.” Yeonjun pats his shoulder and Soobin almost winces at the pain. “No problem Choi. I’ll leave you to it. See you around.” Yeonjun winks and strolls off. Soobin cringes at how nonchalant the other male is, more so at the fact that he genuinely couldn’t tell if that wink was flirtatious or not.

Regardless, Yeonjun’s words were enough to boost his confidence slightly, and thus Soobin made his way back to the outside of the bakery.

20 minutes had passed and you finally were able to usher the last customer out of the store. Your father had already left to promote business at the festival grounds and your mother had offered to finish cleaning up so you could enjoy some time to yourself after a long day of work.

The summer heat hits your face as you open the heavy double glass doors, pouting as the fresh indoor air slips away. You let your hair down so you can arrange it into a neater ponytail, feeling at least feeling somewhat refreshed after quickly changing out of your work uniform into something more comfortable.

Soobin hears the familiar jingle of the bakery doors and he looks up, if he wasn’t nervous already he definitely was now. His face flushes as his eyes scan your figure, pretty face concentrated as you tie your hair up, thin summer shirt slightly lifting to show the slightest bit of skin as if you wearing those small denim shorts wasn’t enough to have him practically fainting at the sight.

You look up and the expression on your face changes to a warm smile upon seeing Soobin. 

“Soobie, hi!” Oh! The nickname too! Soobin was doomed.

“H- hey, um y/n.. Before you lock up can we go inside? I need to speak with you..” You tilt your head and look around the area. “Sure? Oh but I think Yeonjun was waiting to talk to me too? Did you see him?” Soobin almost lets out a groan in discontent but hides it with a bite to his bottom lip. Why were you asking about Yeonjun? Was it because you were hoping he’d be waiting instead of Soobin?

“He uh.. Decided he had something to do–  It wasn’t important anyways..” Soobin scratches the back of his neck with an awkward smile. “Ah, okay! Let’s go in then.” You smile and open the doors for him. Soobin fumbles to one of the glass doors and holds it for you with ears tinged pink, nodding as you thank him when you walk inside.

Soobin doesn’t even remember ever being this nervous before in his entire life, his first catering delivery, the handful of speeches he’s stuttered through when speaking in front of his classmates, or when he spilled juice on his mother’s most prestigious customer.

You prop yourself on the counter, your eyes now able to meet his without either of you adjusting your height. You swing your legs as you sit, oblivious to Soobin’s inner turmoil. “Sorry, I wasn’t about to talk with you outside in that heat. You must have been sweating so much out there!” You apologize with a light laugh, and the tall boy's heart soars, touched by your consistently kind and caring nature.

Soobin’s brain is currently in overdrive thinking about the way your delicate fingers twiddle in your lap waiting for his response. You notice that his breathing has grown quiet and slow, as he avoids your gaze while in deep thought.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen to Yeonjun or–?” You innocently question. Soobin can’t help but feel his jealousy peak. Why were asking about that guy when it was just you and him? Why couldn’t you ever focus on him instead?

“Soobie.. Tell me what happened, please?” You bring your hand up to rest on his arm, shooting jolts of electricity throughout his entire body from the small touch. It was light, but it was also the first time you’ve ever made an effort to touch Soobin in such a delicate manner. It may have meant nothing to you but to him, it was more than enough to send his mind reeling even further.

Soobin was a patient man. In case you couldn’t tell from the way he’s waited all these years for the perfect moment to confess. Yet, at this moment he feels his emotions bubbling up, his jealousy of Yeonjun, his overwhelming affection towards you that never ceased to stop growing over the years, and the overwhelming anxiety threatening to burst through his stomach.

Your eyes widen as Soobin places both of his arms on the counter, caging you in with his own body.

‘Be yourself Soobin. If she doesn’t like you for you then she’s not the one. If she likes Yeonjun then so be it.’ Soobin is chanting so many affirmations in his head and nothing seems to work. Seconds pass and he notices the heat spread across your face as you stare into his gentle brown orbs.

The bakery is silent, its ambiance a complete contrast to almost 30 minutes ago. Everything had been turned off, with the only source of lightning coming from the sunset peering over the horizon outside. The rays barely peeked through the partially closed blinds and the glass doors leading into the bakery. 

“I- .. look I honestly h- have no idea how to go about this..” Soobin begins, his breathing now ragged and his body so close to yours that his scent begins to fill your senses. You’ve never been this close to Soobin and can’t help but take in the gentle light floral scent. It’s warm even, like a cotton shirt left out in the sun on a summer afternoon.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath now gently tickling your features. “Y/n.. I’ve liked you f- for a really long time.. And I mean this more than a friend.” His eyes are screwed shut, almost as if he was afraid that if he opened them he’d be met with a look of disappointment from you. “I tried telling you earlier, I saw Yeonjun try to hit on you and I freaked out. Of course, shit hits the fan too because with my luck you didn’t hear me.”

“Soobin..” Your mouth opens before you can fully process what you want to say. “Y- you don’t have to respond y/n. If anything I know you probably have feelings for Yeonjun already– Just p- please.. I-” His voice is shaky, his intense fear of rejection pouring out of his body in a sweat.

Soobin’s eyes flash open when he feels both your hands gently holding both sides of his face. “Can I tell you something?” You smile warmly. Soobin’s heart feels like it's going to jump out of his chest. “I only keep working here so I can see you.”

Soobin’s face turns a bright red, his mouth agape. “Wh- what?”

“My parents tease me about it all the time. About the boy that I fell head over heels for since the day he first walked through those stupid glass doors. I don’t let them hire anyone else because I didn’t want anyone talking to you that wasn’t me!” You chuckle, recalling the slow days when you paced across the white bakery tiles, waiting for him to walk through those doors with a list of items he needed.

“I’ve liked you. I always have.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. Soobin’s ears barely pick up the sound as a group of children run by the shop, loud screeches and giggles as they pass.

“Wh- what?” Soobin stares into your eyes in complete disbelief. “I said I like you too, Choi Soobin.”

He’s silent, a car passes by and you almost jump from the sudden noise. Soobin doesn’t flinch, and for a moment your expression turns into one of fear– afraid that you said the wrong thing until Soobin lets out a series of soft chuckles.

“What is so funny!?” You pout, immediately removing your hands from his face in embarrassment. The audacity of this guy! To just laugh in front of your face after he himself nearly pissed himself from confessing to you.

“Y- you have no idea– no idea!” He begins, his forehead bumping into yours again from laughing. “Y/n, I’ve been going out of my way, doing the stupidest things just to get myself to tell you how I feel.”

You scoff and look down at your lap. “Well.. at least now everything is cleared up.. Right?”

Soobin’s head pulls away, his arms still trapping you in his presence. ‘O-oh um about that..” 

“Earlier.. I was asking you for flour.. Y’know the stuff you bake with? .. You sort of misheard that too.” You cover your mouth with a gap. Soobin senses your guilt and immediately shakes his head.

Soobin finally pulls his arms away and you feel your tense body loosen up. It seems he had no clue of how close he was due to the adrenaline of his confession. “No no! Please don’t worry about it– it was seriously my fault, I couldn’t even get a word out and it was super loud and busy earlier!”

“L- let me get that for you! Gosh, I’m so so sorry!” You exclaim as you jump off the counter to run to the back room to retrieve the said bag. You find Soobin with his hands covering his face in embarrassment as you walk up to him. It seemed you two were more similar than you expected.

“Let's go deliver the flour then, together.” You smile shyly, attempting to lighten the mood. “Before we do though.. Let's make a trade.” You take the forgotten sunflower Soobin had been holding the entire time and hold it to your chest. “You can give me this, and I’ll give you your flour.”

Your voice is warm and oh-so-sweet to Soobin’s ears. He was so used to hearing you speak in your ‘customer service’ voice that being able to have you finally speak to him, and only him, in that gentle tone that made his legs turn to jelly and his heart thump ever so harder.

“Deal.” Soobin smiles and he takes the sunflower from your hand. He gently places the sunflower behind your ear, pushing back a strand of your hair at the same time and your eyes meet once again. His eyes were mesmerizing, almost as if they were pulling you closer. You didn’t even realize how close in proximity you two were now.

Soobin closes the gap between you both, your lips finally connecting for the first time. Your plush lips are soft against his and it’s everything Soobin could have imagined and more. The kiss isn’t perfect– with teeth slightly clashing every few seconds and you giggling in excitement. Both your lips were slightly chapped from the summer heat and the conversation you just had. It didn’t matter to either of you though.

It was summer when Soobin met you for the time, with cheeks flushed and shy lingering gazes. He smiles, dimples on full display at the thought as he stares up into the sinking sun in the distance as you both head towards the festival. 

It’s also summer when the two of you confess and share your first kiss. Soobin comes to realize that summer might just be his favorite season. After all, over the years nothing has ever changed, besides the feelings he’s had all this time now growing ever stronger. And of course, breaking the curse of forever being just the clumsy boy who visited you.

[oliviablancmom]

"Pedriiii - Part III"

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x singlemom!OC

Themes: Fluff, Angst.

N/A: So, it's finally here!!! I'm sorry for the delay, but it was hard to write this chapter, either because I piled up my work, or because the characters took a while to talk to me, now they can't stay quiet. I know I said this would be the last chapter, but I can't do math, so this is probably the penultimate one and the next one will be the last (or not, idk). Anyway, enough talking because you guys waited a long time for this. Enjoy!!!!

Pedri was a patient person, his profession demanded it. During the 90 minutes or more that he touched the ball on the field and created plays in anticipation of goals, he knew he needed patience to reach the right moment to achieve his objective. He knew patience because of his injuries and the recovery time he had to deal with, as well as the hurtful comments that cast doubt on his talent, effort, and dedication. Patience sometimes eluded him during a game when a referee made a wrong call or overlooked something on the field. Patience sometimes eluded him when the boys teased him during training.

But lately patience eluded him when it came to her... Isabella Harver was driving him crazy, and that, at the moment, was beyond his clear attraction to the woman since the first time he saw her. It had more to do with the fact that she had been ignoring him since the last night they spent together, where everything ended chaotically, with no explanation from her. And that was bothering him, not the lack of explanation itself. Pedri could deduce how complicated the situation was from what he witnessed, but not knowing how Axel was, how they both were, hurt him more than he expected. Pedri wanted to understand what was happening, wanted to help in some way, and wanted to understand how someone could leave a child like Axel in that way. The player himself didn't understand his obsession with the incident; he didn't have the right to explanations. But something inside him tightened every time he remembered the child's anguished cry and Isa's frightened look.

"You know, if it were me receiving the news that I could play again, I'd be more excited than this," Gavi pointed at Pedri. "Is Isa still keeping you in the dark?" Pedri looked annoyed at Gavi. " What? You're pretty obvious about your feelings towards her. Your luck is that you don't run into her much around here," Gavi shrugged, and Pedri threw a towel at his face. "Your reaction just proves my point..."

"There's no feelings, it's just..." Pedri couldn't finish his sentence as he was interrupted by Gavi bursting into laughter, causing Pedri to roll his eyes.

"Dude, you've been drooling over her since the first time you saw her. I'm your best friend, you can admit it to me," Gavi said after calming down.

"It's complicated," Pedri says after a few seconds of silence.

"I think you guys are making it more complicated than it is," Gavi concluded patting Pedri's shoulder and letting him alone with his thoughts. Pedri thought Gavi was right, but he also had a point. It was true, that the woman had a strange magnetism that attracted him, but there was everything else that made their relationship complicated that he couldn't simply ignore.

**********************************************

Isa was sitting at her father's kitchen table, watching Axel bake a cake with Gianna, or rather, his "Gigi" as the little boy called the older woman, his grandfather's girlfriend, who despite loving the child, joked that she was too young to be called a grandmother, yet. Isa loved the affection she had for Axel, and was grateful for her presence in her father's life, and theirs too, after all, who else would teach Axel to cook considering Isa was a disaster in the kitchen?

"Can we add M&Ms? My friend Pedri loves them, so I can bring him some cake tomorrow," Axel suggested eagerly.

"Of course we can, it's your cake," the older woman said, kissing the child's head as he celebrated excitedly.

He didn't even seem like the scared child from two nights ago when she picked him up from his paternal grandparents' house. Just remembering the state he was in made Isa feel sick to her stomach. The situation had gone too far, and she wouldn't allow it to happen again.

"Axel talks a lot about Pedri," Isa looked at her father, who had approached quietly, and as she faced him, she just knew he wanted to ask something, but he would never do it directly.

"He befriended with some players." She shrugged backing her attention to her son.

"He also told me he was the one who brought you guys home that night," the man continued in his not-so-subtle attempt to extract something from his daughter.

"Yes, we were at a barça event, and I needed a ride, and he was the only sober one..." The man smiled gently at his daughter; he knew her better than anyone and knew her ways of avoiding a subject.

"When are you and Axel going back to your house?" He asked.

"Are you kicking us out? Don't you love us anymore?" Isa pouted dramatically, earning an eye roll from the older man.

"I adore having you around... Especially when it's by choice and not because you're running away from someone, even though, I don't know from who you are hiding," Isa turned to the man, confused.

"You can't let that man and his family continue to torment you and Axel, Isabella. You shouldn't even be trying to get close to those people."

"Those people, are Axel's family too."

"They don't care about him, and you know it. They only care about making your life a hell"

Isa didn't answer, not knowing exactly how she should respond even though she knew her father was right, she tried to have a good relationship with them because of Axel, but since that night some days ago, she was willing to give up on that, her child didn't deserve all that stress.

"He's going to invite him to his birthday," Isa looked confused at her father. "Pedri!" He exclaims. "I'm just informing you that I won't tolerate any trouble in my house, if this is going to cause trouble, it's better to tell Henry and his family not to come." Isa looked surprised at the man, as if she had been caught doing something, the older man's eyes indicated that he knew something, and that made the woman feel a strange feeling.

"There won't be an trouble, why would be?" She asked nervously as she got up.

"My beloved and favorite daughter..." The ironic smile on her father's face made Isa roll her eyes.

"It would be strange if I weren't, been your only one" she responded mimicking his tone.

"I know you think you're subtle, but you have the most emotive and transparent eyes there are," he said, kissing Isa's head, who didn't respond.

Her father's remark left a bitter taste and a strange sensation in her core. Isa was aware of her not-so-small attraction to the player, but it was just that, attraction. She couldn't develop feelings, let alone be expressive about them. She sighed in frustration as she drove to the training center, just hoping not to encounter the player.

**********************************************

"Hey, guys," Ferran says as he enters the physiotherapy room. "Look, Pedri. Who I bumped into on my way here," Pedri lifted his eyes from his phone towards his friend. "Mini you."

"Pedriiii" Axel said, running into the physiotherapy room, but stopped and walked slowly to the bed where Pedri was lying.

"Hey buddy, I didn't see you these days," Pedri said to the little boy, who leaned against the bed, resting his head and attentively watching every move of the physiotherapist. "Are you okay?"

"Mom is looking for schools for me," he said rolling his little eyes, eliciting laughter from the players.

"I feel you, buddy," Ferran said, running his hand through Axel's hair. "Can I do it too?" Axel asked after a few minutes of silence while watching the physiotherapist tape the small electrical wrist electrodes onto Pedri's leg to start the treatment. The physiotherapist looked at Pedri as if asking for permission, and the player felt his chest warm at the thought of being responsible for the little boy.

"Won't it be too strong for him?" Pedri asked, concerned. The man smiled at him, shaking his head.

"I'll set it to a low frequency. It'll feel like tickles." Pedri then looked at Axel, who was looking at him expectantly, waiting for the player's response.

"Alright, let's do it, buddy," Pedri laughed as the little boy jumped excitedly. The doctor picked him up and placed him on the bed next to Pedri.

"If only all my players were this excited about physiotherapy sessions," the older man said with a sigh, making Pedri laugh.

"I'm quite cooperative."

"I won't comment, so as not to embarrass you in front of the child."

"I'm not worse than Gavi," Pedri said offended.

"You're impatient, and Gavi is... Well, Gavi," Pedri chuckled. "Come on, little buddy, I'm going to turn it on, let me know if it hurts."

Axel nodded, reaching out his hand for Pedri to hold, and the player promptly held. Axel closed one of his eyes in expectation, but as soon as it started he let out a laugh.

"Aw, it tickles," Axel laughed with wide eyes looking at the player.

"Oh, I wish mine was just a tickle..." Ferran sighed as he lay down on the examination table. Pedri nodded in agreement and then turned his attention to Axel, who seemed frustrated.

"Is everything okay, buddy?" The little boy looked at Pedri and made a face.

"This is boring, can I take it off?" Pedri chuckled at the child's impatience. In the short time he had known Axel, he knew Axel was too energetic and talkative for a physiotherapy session.

"Of course, let me help you." Pedri leaned over to remove the equipment from Axel's leg. Once he finished, the little boy jumped off the table excitedly and began walking around the room, examining every detail.

Pedri and Ferran laughed as they watched him carefully follow the physiotherapist, curious about the man's work. Then Axel grabbed a band and went over to Pedri, mimicking the therapist's movements.

"You've lost your job, Mattia," the older man chuckled as he watched the scene unfold.

After exploring everything in the room and asking about each piece of equipment, Axel grew tired and went to sit on the same examination table as Pedri, his little legs on the player's lap. He casually recounted to Pedri about the schools he had visited with his mother. The little boy didn't seem as scared as when Isa had found him that night, but he also wasn't the same boy the player had gotten used to, which intrigued and worried Pedri.

Before he could continue the conversation with the boy, the scent of the perfume that had been etched in his mind hit him, and immediately his eyes darted to the door. And there she was, three days since he last saw the woman, and she looked even more beautiful. Realizing where his thoughts were, he shook his head. He was angry at her; she had put him in various kinds of situations and simply disappeared, leaving him in the dark, confused, and distressed with a whirlwind of emotions.

"Axel... What did I say about you wandering around?" Axel jumped in surprise at the woman's voice. The reaction made Pedri laugh.

"Hi, Mommy... But it was just a little bit, just to get here, then I sat down, right Pedri?" Axel said in a sweet voice, clearly attempting to deceive his mother, and Pedri had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the boy's excuse. "Right, Pedri?" He repeated, poking Pedri.

"Oh sure, he sat the whole time," Pedri said, looking at Isa, and noticed she was also holding back laughter.

"Oh, great. You found someone else to cover for you besides your grandpa. You can't be friends if you're going to be against me," she said, crossing her arms. Axel shrugged with a mischievous smile. "We need to go home, baby," she said, and Axel's smile faded. He stood up and moved behind the player, hugging his neck.

"No, I want to stay here," he said in a whiny voice. Pedri looked at Isa as if seeking answers. The woman sighed and sat on the examination table next to the player, her mere proximity already causing sensations in Pedri.

"Axel, sweetheart. You need to let Pedri get back to his physiotherapy; you don't want him to get back to playing?" She said softly.

"He can stay, I don't mind," Pedri said quietly to the woman, who simply nodded and leaned against the wall. Pedri and Isa's gazes didn't waver, both maintaining eye contact as if engaged in a silent conversation, seeking answers.

Isa looked away when the physiotherapist returned to the room, giving a brief smile to the woman.

"Five more minutes, and I'll let them go," he said to Isa, who just nodded, confused. "Your boys were very cooperative, one doing the exercises correctly, and the other helping me treat the other players." Upon hearing this, Pedri saw the woman's face turn red, her eyes widened, and then she began to cough. "Oh, dear. Are you alright? Would you like some water?" Mattia asked, approaching and patting the woman's back.

"It's the excitement of seeing her two boys," Ferran's voice, which Pedri thought had been sleeping until now, startled him, and the woman's coughing increased as she looked at him with a deadly glare.

"I'll wait outside," she said, leaving the room. Pedri looked at Ferran, who had a mocking smile on his face, and grabbed a bottle and threw it at him.

"What, I'm lightening the mood; the tension between you two is palpable. I was sleeping and could still feel it." Pedri decided to ignore his friend since Axel was looking at both with curiosity.

"Hey buddy, why don't you go see your mom? I'll be there in a bit." The little boy nodded and hopped off the examination table, running out of the room just as Mattia returned to release Pedri. The player then left the room, a bit apprehensive that they might have already left, but to his surprise, both were waiting in the hallway. Isa was crouched down at Axel's height, helping him search for something in his backpack.

"You can give him his later or ask Pedri to give it to him," Pedri heard Isa say to the boy.

"Hey," Pedri said, stopping beside them. "Is everything okay?" Isa just nodded.

"Here, is an invitation to my birthday party. You're coming, right?" Axel said, handing the envelope to Pedri, eagerly awaiting his response.

"Of course, buddy," Pedri said, tousling Axel's hair, who smiled excitedly and hugged Pedri's leg.

"I'll go deliver Ferran's," the boy said, turning to his mother, waiting for her approval, and as soon as she agreed, he ran back to the physiotherapy room. Pedri turned his attention to the woman who was staring intensely at him, feeling his heart race at the intensity of her gaze.

"Do you want to come with us to have some birthday cake?" She said, breaking the silence between them, and God, the softness of her voice... If she used that tone to ask the player anything, he would gladly accept.

"Is his birthday today?" Pedri asked, concerned. The boy had mentioned his birthday, but hadn't mentioned dates.

"Tomorrow. The party will be next week because of the game this weekend, but he has a cake to sing 'Happy Birthday' at midnight, it's tradition. He'll be happy if you're there;" she said, leaning against the wall. Pedri took a step towards her, coming face to face with the woman, their faces just inches apart, and he could feel her heavy breath.

"Just him?" Pedri asked, and he saw the woman furrow her eyebrows in confusion. "Will only he like it if I'm there?" he asked eagerly, Isa swallowed, her eyes scanning the player's face. "Oh... You're so beautiful" Pedri says taking a good look at her face, he lowers his face towards hers his lips brushing against hers. Pedri thought his attraction to the woman was just a result of a night out at a club. Even though he hadn't had a single drop of alcohol in his body, the atmosphere of such places always had something extra. But whether it was now, or when he caught a brief glimpse of Isa as he saw her through the training center, he knew it was something more.

"Mom, we'll need an invitation for Mattia too..." Axel's voice emerging again in the hallway causes Pedro and Isa to abruptly pull away, and Pedro is thankful because he is inches away from forgetting where they were and doing something with the woman right there.

"We'll bring it tomorrow," Isa says, her breath heavy. "Shall we go home now? We still need to stop by Pops to get your cake."

"YESSS," Axel says excitedly, then turns his attention back to Pedro. "Do you want to come to eat my cake?" Pedri smiles at the question, not at the question itself, but at the way he asked it, with the same intonation that his mother had used earlier. Isa smiled proudly at Pedri as if she understood what he was thinking.

"Of course, buddy. I'd love to."

"YAY," Axel exclaimed excitedly, jumping onto the player so that he could lift him. Pedri smiled at the little boy, planting a kiss on the top of his head, and as he walked down the hallway, with Axel in his arms and Isa by his side, his only thought was that he could and wanted to get used to this... definitively.

********************************************

The way to her father's house, it was silent, well, at least on Isa's part, considering that Axel and Pedri were engaged in an intense conversation about Axel starting at Barça's football school. Isa had even tried to join the conversation but soon stopped trying, feeling like she was intruding on something of theirs. And if she didn't know how much her son loved her, she would start feeling jealous of what he had with the player. Speaking of him, Isa was feeling nervous about his presence, and she began to wonder where her head was when she invited him to eat Axel's birthday cake, but before she knew it, the words were already coming out of her mouth, so now she has to deal with his presence, and that makes her nervous.

When she stopped in front of her father's house, she was immensely grateful that his reaction was just that of a Barcelona fan, not that of a curious father, or it would add even more to her nervousness.

The player and her father spent about 10 minutes talking about soccer, Pedri's injury, and his return to the field. Of course, the conversation between the two eventually led to Axel casually asking his grandfather, "But pops, I thought Gavi was your favorite." The question made the man choke in embarrassment, and Pedri laughed at the situation. But Isa knew her son, and for him to be "against" his grandfather, considering how close they were, the only reason was that her child was jealous of the player.

As soon as they arrived at the apartment, Axel insisted on showing the player his room, who wasn't at all surprised to see that it was all decorated in Barcelona colors. Isa listened to their interaction from the kitchen until the player's surprised tone caught her attention, and she sneakily walked to the boy's room.

"Axel, what's this?" Pedri was facing the wall, looking at Axel's photo mural, and Isa knew exactly what had caught his attention. "Is Gavi your favorite too?" he asked indignantly.

"Nooo," the boy said laughing, and Pedri turned to him with narrowed eyes.

"You're not being convincing laughing like that," the player concluded, taking a photo with his phone, probably to send to his friend.

"Show him your shirts, honey," Isa said, appearing in the doorway, catching the attention of both. Axel ran to the closet, pulling the player with him, and Isa saw the player's surprised face; Axel had several Barcelona shirts, all with the number 8 and the player's name.

"Okay, I can forgive you now, buddy," Pedri laughs, tousling Axel's hair, as he bends down to pick something from the drawer. "Of course, there's one to ruin the fun." He shows Isa the shirt with Gavi's number, making her burst into laughter.

"It's a gift from pops, I told you Gavi is his favorite," Axel says, finding the situation amusing as well.

"Axel, sweetheart, go take a shower so we can cut your cake," Isa says to her son, who eagerly runs to the bathroom. Isa was thankful every day that he hadn't yet reached the phase where children dislike bathing.

Her attention returned to the player, who was looking at her expectantly once again. Isa wasn't sure what to do; she had never brought anyone to her apartment before, and the player made her nervous.

"Let's go to the kitchen," she said in a lower tone, and Pedri nodded, following her out of the room. Along the way, he examined the various photos scattered around the place, stopping in front of another photo wall in the living room, and analyzing each one.

And Isa took the opportunity to observe him. God, he was so handsome, she thought. Everything about him, the hair, the beard. Isa had seen many comments from the player's fans asking him to get rid of the beard, but she would protest against that.

"Earth to Isabella," Isa snapped out of her thoughts when she saw the player standing right in front of her. "What were you thinking that made you blush like that?" Pedri had a playful grin on his face, that made Isa distance herself abruptly from him.

"What were you talking about?" She asked breathlessly.

"You have a photo with Gavi too," he showed the Polaroid to Isa. "Does he spend a lot of time with you guys? I'm starting to think your whole family has a not-so-subtle crush on Gavira," Pedri tried to say nonchalantly, but his clenched jaw gave away a flash of jealousy, making Isa laugh, and then she approached the player.

"Are you jealous of Gavi?" Isa felt the player's hand on her waist pulling her closer, once again her face just inches away from his, Isa could feel her heart beating so fast she was sure the player could hear it, and that was very new for her. "I took the photo to make my dad jealous. Axel and I don't joke when we say he's his favorite. Also, he spends a few days in the office after his physiotherapy and recovery sessions. He's too impatient to just watch you guys training," Isa also suspected that this wasn't the only reason he visited her in the administrative part of the training center, but she wouldn't talk about it now.

Pedri nodded and leaned in towards the woman, Isa held her breath, and before she could feel the player's lips, her phone rang. She stepped back, and Pedri muttered a curse word. As soon as she saw who it was, all the ecstasy and calmness of the moment vanished. She hung up the call, and it didn't take long for the device to beep, indicating the arrival of messages.

"Answer the damn phone!!!"

"What are you thinking!!!! Are you out of your mind? First, you invade my parents' house and take my son, and now you're hanging out with teenagers?"

Isa felt her body go cold when Henry sent numerous photos taken by fans showing her leaving the training center with Pedri and Axel in the player's arms.

"I'm coming right now, that damn player better not be with you, or I'll do something stupid. We're still married, and the judge will know that"

Isa felt her whole life being sucked out of her; she knew Henry didn't care about Axel, it wasn't about him but about her, and the mere possibility of her being with someone else.

"Pedri, you better go," Isa said, turning to the player who was looking at her attentively.

"What happened?" He asked, concerned. He tried to approach, but Isa stepped back, feeling tears rolling down her face.

"Isa... You're just like that night, you need to tell me what's going on." He tried to get closer again, and once again Isa backed away, she saw the hurt expression on the player's face, and it hurt her own heart a little.

"This can't keep happening, you leaving me in the dark like this... Seeing you like this, seeing how Axel was that night, it's tormenting me," Pedri said impatiently.

"This is none of your business," Isa said firmly, wiping the tears from her face. Pedri opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, he ran his hand through his beard in an irritated gesture. Isa saw her phone vibrating again, and another message from Henry appeared

"Is this why you're asking for a divorce? Oh baby, if you think I'm going to let that boy near you..."

"Go away, Pedri," Isa repeated. Pedri didn't respond, he just turned and left the apartment.

"Pedriiii" Axel's voice calling the player from the room was all it took for Isa to collapse into uncontrollable tears.

**********************************************

Pedri was relieved to be back on the team's list for a match after his injury recovery time. The medical department was still cautious about clearing him, and with the Champions League quarterfinal games coming up, he would have to endure one more match before being on the field. But just being able to be on the bench with his teammates already felt like a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. However, he couldn't ignore a certain heaviness weighing on his chest, and it was ruining his mood, with the person responsible just a few meters away from him in the tunnel leading to the field, too focused on her phone to notice anything around her.

"Dude, she's gonna melt if you keep staring at her like that," Ferran said, approaching his friend. "I thought HR was clear with you guys, and you're not being subtle at all."

Pedri rolled his eyes at the memory of what happened. After leaving the woman's apartment, his phone received a flood of notifications with tags on his photo with Isa and Axel, leading them both to explain to HR. Well, Isabella explained, claiming they were just colleagues, and that her son was a big fan and happened to run into the player in the parking lot, and that was their only interaction. Pedri was shocked at how easily the woman lied, or rather, omitted information, as she left out that a large part of their interaction occurred when they both were naked.

Pedri could feel the same irritation he felt on the day of the meeting returning at that moment, especially when he saw a man in Atlético's coaching staff approaching the woman. Pedri saw the woman's entire body language change suddenly, assuming a more defensive posture, and this intrigued him.

Pedri could hear Ferran talking beside him, but he wasn't paying attention to what he was saying exactly, his focus completely on the woman. And when the man grabbed Isa's arm forcefully, pulling her towards him with his finger in her face, Pedri saw red, his legs moving before he could think to do so. He heard Ferran calling him, but his voice was already distant, Pedri pushed the man hard, getting him off Isa.

"Look, one of your kids is here," the man said in an ironic tone, and that was enough for Pedri to punch him in the face, and soon they were grappling with each other. And that was enough for a general commotion to start in the tunnel, players pushing players, coaching staff from both teams trying to break up the fight. Pedri felt a hand on his arm, squeezing it tightly, pulling him away from the crowd.

"You can't do this!" The woman's voice brought him back from his trance suddenly, he was alert to everything around him again, notice that he was in another room, he looked at Isa, who had a furious look on her face.

"Are you okay?" Pedri asked, approaching the woman, holding her face between his hands, Isa looked at him confused.

"If I'm okay?" She asked incredulously, Pedri lowered his eyes to the woman's arm, which bore the marks of the man's grip, and again he felt anger consuming him. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The trouble you've caused me, that you've caused both of us?" She asked, getting agitated.

"I was defending you!" Pedri shouted back.

"I didn't ask for that, I didn't ask for your help!" Pedri raised his arms mockingly.

"Can you stop with this nonsense? You can't sleep with me, tell me 'it's not like that,' use your sweet tone of voice with me, claim my skin and thoughts, and then say it's none of my business." Isa opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, the door swung open abruptly, instinctively Pedri pulled Isa behind him.

"What the hell was that? Have you gone crazy?" Pedri relaxed when he saw it was just Xavi, a very angry Xavi, and he knew he had messed up. The coach looked at Pedri's hand holding Isa's wrist. "Don't tell me you got into a fight over a woman, Pedri. Over a woman you and her swore was nothing when HR asked." He said in a calmer tone of voice.

"I was just defending min..."

"I told you not to tell me!" Xavi exclaimed annoyed. "Do you know the mess you've caused? This could cost us a lot. You're not gonna be on the bench, you're suspended, go home, Pedri." Pedri tried to say something but was soon stopped by Xavi, who was furious again. The door swung open again, and a member of the communication team entered the room.

"Isabella, we need you here, the match referee wants explanations, but the Atlético communication team wants to talk to you first," the girl called for Isa, who untangled herself from Pedri, before leaving the room she gave one last look at the player, and then left for good. Pedri turned around angrily, kicking the chair that was there.

"I guess your brother won't be able to deny this rumor on social media, right?" Xavi said breaking the silence, Pedri looked up to see his coach and could tell the older man had a slight smirk on his face. "Did you at least hit him properly?" Pedri just nodded, and Xavi gave a proud smile, patting the player's shoulder. "Go home, kid," said the older man leaving the room.

Pedro was soon escorted out of the stadium by a member of the coaching staff. Pedri didn't see Isa anymore, and that annoyed him, his phone soon beeped indicating a message from HR, for a new meeting, he rolled his eyes and before he could block the phone, a message from an unknown number arrived.

"I appreciate what you did, but this can't happen, things like this can ruin my, and especially your career. This was a mistake from the beginning, and whatever is happening or has happened between you and me, it's over here. Everything between us will be strictly professional. Please respect my decision, and I hope this doesn't ruin your friendship with Axel!!"

Pedri felt his heart tighten, and his breath caught in his throat, he always reassured his friends and himself, that everything between him and the woman was just a physical attraction, but at that moment, with that message, he was sure there was something more, and as much as she denied it, Pedri knew there was something more from her side too, but if she wanted to run away from it, and wanted everything to be professional, then, so be it.

**********************************************

N/A: Again, I apologize for the delay. I hope you liked it. I've revised this chapter many times, BUT as I promised to post it today, something must have slipped, I promise to review it during the week. Thank you for all the comments, likes, reblogs, and asks, I LOVE seeing your reaction and opinion, it warms my heart!!

[fanfiction4sooya]

Oh that’s fine I completely understand. Could you possibly just write for g!p Mina x reader then

Hi sweetie, sorry for the late reply. But here you go! Hope you like it 💖💖

tw: g!p mina, face slapping, blowjobs, choking, mentions of cheating, unprotected sex, forced creampie, reader is a shit starter, etc;

You spend your whole day fuming, incredibly dumbfounded by the fact that Sana had cheated on you. The so sweet, so loving and caring Minatozaki Sana; Yeah, you weren't heartbroken as you should be, you felt just angrier by the second.

When you told Mina the whole story she immediately offered you a shoulder to lean on and of course, you accepted. Getting angry alone wasn't good for you, since you were a natural shit starter, a disaster seeker. She was friends with both Sana and you, but she was definitely on your side on this one.

"Hi baby" She greeted you, lifting two shopping bags full of booze. "I didn't know what you'd prefer so I bought one each" You hugged her, finally feeling at ease.

You were both sitting down on your living room, half a bottle of whiskey gone, along with a few beer cans. You were sat on the floor wearing only a long shirt and panties. It was Mina, you didn't have to be modest about anything, you were friends after all.

"Enough with my misery" You told her, she was sat on your couch, sipping her drink. "What's going on with you and your girl?" You chugged your beer, making a face.

"She broke up with me" She pouted, swirling her whiskey.

"That bitch!" You slammed your hand on her thigh, making her laugh. "But why though? I thought you two were getting along" She sighed.

"It's embarrassing..." She told you, kind of pouting. She was soft and shy, you loved that about her.

"Myoui Mina" You stared at her eyes. "I literally just told you in detail how my fiance cheated on me... Please" You kneeled, putting your hands together. "Please don't take any entertainment from me" She laughed, shaking her head. After a few seconds getting brave, she spoke again.

"She said I'm too soft" her cheeks got bright pink. 'What a baby girl...'

"Well, anyone that talks to you for like 10 minutes realizes that" You frowned, tilting your head a little. "She doesn't like your personality or...?"

"No, like..." She closed her eyes, trying to speak without sounding like an idiot. "She said I'm too soft in bed"

At first you didn't understand, maybe the booze had an effect on your information processing, but soon you understood what she meant. You laughed a little too loud for her liking, getting her to recoil.

"I shouldn't have told you" She covered her eyes, trying to disappear from the face of the earth. "Asshole!!" her ears were red as you tried hard to catch your breath.

"Okay, sorry, I'm sorry" You stopped laughing, taking a deep breath. "And why is that?" You genuinely asked. "She is like into bdsm and you're not? Because if it is, is totally cool. That life style is not for everyone" She stared into your eyes, realizing you were really serious.

"No, not that" She sat more to the edge of the couch, leaning towards you to speak. "She is not the first one to tell me that..." She scratched her nape. "Apparently I'm really soft with them, even if they ask me to be rough" You nodded.

"But why can't you be a little rough?"

"I'm scared of hurting them" She stated. "Look at my hand, it's big" She showed you her hand and you realized it was, in fact, big. "If she asks me to slap her face I get self conscious and freeze" You shook your head. What a little idiot. "And if she asks me to fuck her hard it's the same thing..." She looks down. "I'm not really small down there, you know?"

You bit your lip, gulping at that thought.

"If she asks you to hit her, it's because she can take it" You tell Mina.

"What if I lose control and do it too hard?" You roll your eyes.

"that's impossible, darling" You say.

"You don't know that" She frowns.

You smile, getting close to her legs and kneeling.

"I'll teach you how to do it, you little idiot" You take her hand and touches your own face with her palm, measuring it. "Here, the tip of your fingers have to touch under the eye, be careful so you won't hit her ear" You softly laughed, her hand warm and soft resting on your cheek. "Since you have big hands it's okay if you hit only with your fingers and not the palm, specially if she has a small face" She nodded. "Hit and stroke, okay?"

"You sure know a lot about that" Her cheeks got pink and you smiled up at her, still on your knees and between her legs.

"Do it, I wanna know if you got it right" You told her and she nodded. She lightly hit and you chuckled. "Mina, come on. Harder" You said.

"You were moving" She pouted and you bit your lip, taking her opposite hand to your neck.

"Hold it like this to the sides, avoid the middle of her neck" You placed her fingers in the right position. You took a deep breath, feeling something warm between your legs. You cleared your throat, trying to focus. "Don't cut her air circulation. Hold my neck and hit again" You told her and she took a deep breath.

She hit it again, but this time it was harder, the perfect amount of pressure on your neck. Without realizing, you whimpered, closing your eyes as her fingers made contact with your cheek. She stroked your face, her eyes getting darker and you were sure yours did the same.

"Again" You breathed out, your hands went to her thighs as reflex.

There was this small pause, this little delay in time as she observed your face, your expression. Her cock was hardening, tight inside her sweatpants as she thought about it for that second. Mina lift her hand striking hard, waking up from her drunken, horny induced haze.

"Oh my-" She tried to take her hand from your neck but you held it there. Your half lided eyes told her everything she needed to know.

You thought about Sana and how she would crumble the moment she knew about it; the drama, the hurt, everything. You were really a shit starter, drama seeker. 'Fuck it'

"let me teach you" You turned your head, kissing her palm. She visibly shivered, her pupils blown out. You squeezed your thighs together, your hand still on her thigh lightly caressing it, going up very close to her bulge.

"But Sana..." She hissed when you touched her over her pants, closing her eyes.

"She is not here" You pulled her in for a wet kiss, your tongue grazing her lips, sucking the bottom one. She whimpered and oh, it sounded so fucking good.

You worked on the knot of her pants as she kissed you, her tongue roaming inside your mouth made you moan, the mix between beer and whisky felt delicious.

Freeing her cock, you felt how heavy it was, the tip red and leaking pre cum. Looking into her eyes you licked it and she hissed, her hand flying to your hair, holding it.

"Shit..." She trembled, slightly bucking her hips into your mouth. It was really big, stuffing your cheeks as you sucked it, drooling all over it and making a mess on her pants.

Mina really didn't really know what to do, but that wasn't a problem. Not for you that liked to teach, after all. You lifted your face, kissing her again, moaning into her mouth as you jerked her off, the tips of your fingers didn't touch as you did so.

"You are so thick..." You moaned as she closed her eyes. "Don't be shy, pull my hair harder baby" And she immediately did as you told her, bravely spitting into your mouth, roughly kissing your lips. "Yes, don't hold back" You told her between kisses. "use me Mina, fuck me as hard as you can"

That seemingly had the effect you wanted as she pulled you up forcefully to straddle her on the couch, harshly biting your neck. You humped her hard cock and she tightened the grip on your arms, closing her eyes.

"Are you sure?" She asked, gulping.

"Don't hold back" You mouthed every word and she rolled her eyes, ripping your panties from your body. "Fuck" You yelped when she got up, bending your body down to the couch and spreading your legs.

That animalistic side of Mina was hot, completely different from the sweet Minari you knew. She spat onto your pussy, lining her cock onto your slit. You laughed provocatively and she slapped your ass hard, surprising you.

"You are such a pussy, Minari..." You felt her get unsure behind you so you had to provoke, wiggling your butt in front of her. "No wonder she broke up with you..."You tried to lift your face from the couch, but she pushed you down with one hand, pulling your hips flush against hers, fully entering you.

You both moaned, that raw feeling felt too much. She didn't wait for any adjustment, already fucking your hole and fully stretching you to her big cock.

"There you go..." She grunted hitting hard, her balls slapping against your clit made you mewl. It was hard and good, yes, but she could do better.

"Harder, baby..." You started back shotting, your hips meeting hers. She sank her fingernails on your hips, holding hard as she fucked harder, her hips losing a little bit of rhythm.

Now it felt good, her cock fully stretching you, your pussy raw and puffy from all the force. She rolled her eyes, shivering. Suddenly you stopped, pushing her off of you, changing your positions. Getting on your back on the couch you pulled her between your legs, sinking her cock back into your pussy; her eyes glued to where you were connected.

"Damn, you look so pretty" Mina said, her mouth agape.

You grabbed her hand, putting back on your neck like before.

"Do it, baby" You told her, shaking. So wet it trickled down to her balls, coating her dick as well.

She chocked you, slapping your face. Damn she was good at that.

"Tight..." She rolled her eyes, fucking you so hard you lost your breath. When she opened them, they were dark and cloudy, focused on not coming inside.

"Mina" You called, screaming. "I'm coming, fuck baby, keep doing that" You cooed, shaking. "f-finish inside baby, please"

She finally lost the mean demeanor, going back to the shy baby girl she was, her cheeks pink and her eyes doe and teary, still fucking you hard.

"Oh gosh" Was all she managed to say, still slapping her hips against your spread legs, cumming inside then all over your pussy when she tried to pull out. You held her in, trapping your legs behind her back as she groaned with her eyes closed, falling onto your body, blindly kissing your neck.

You couldn't believe you did that, nor that anyone would ever call Mina soft again after this class.

Of course she still had lessons to take but hey, you'd gladly teach her anything she wanted to know. You were her friend, after all.

[lazycats-stuff]

Could you do batman x son reader, where the reader struggles with an eating disorder. Maybe reader faints on a patrol or maybe he just trys to hide his Ed behaviors (like skipping meals, over exercising, purging, ect...) from the family, but one day the family just figures it out.

I completely understand if you don't feel comfortable writing this. You're writing is just really comforting to me so I thought I'd give it a shot. Have an awesome day. You're writing is amazing. Remember to take care of yourself first

Alright... I'm not uncomfortable, but I don't want anyone getting triggered by this or have someone relapse and fall back into the disorder. I had to be in the right mindset to write this so my apologies for the wait. Take care of yourselves everyone too.

Summary: (Y/N) is struggling with an eating disorder. The family figures it out.

Warnings: symptoms of eating disorder, EATING DISORDER, read with precaution and on your own risk!

(Y/N) has been struggling for a while now, but he made sure to hide it from his family. Nobody needed to know what he has been struggling with. (Y/N) went to the extreme lengths to make sure that his family didn't find out about his problem with food.

He knew that they would be all over him if they found out. He struggled with food for about a while now. He hated the way his body looked and he just wanted to have a perfect body.

It has started with over exercising. Even after everyone was done, (Y/N) would do it until he could barely walk back to his room. He did everyday and when just that didn't give the results that he needed, he started skipping meals. The skipped meals were normally dinners, saying that he was full from lunch.

He didn't do it often, he didn't want to raise any suspicions with his family. If he did anything that would raise suspicion, they would be all over him and they would probably bench him from the patrol. If that would to happen, then he wouldn't be happy.

If there was one thing holding him together, it would be patrol. The only thing.

He often found himself looking at the mirror, looking at his body. He noticed his hair and skin were dry beyond belief. He noticed that he got sicker more often, which didn't happen before. He always had strong immunity.

His teeth got sensitive and that was one of the reasons why he skipped meals sometimes. It has gotten to the point that he got dizzy whenever he stood up.

All of this was getting out of hand, but (Y/N) didn't see it. He has only one goal in mind and that is a perfect body. Something that doesn't exist. There is no such thing called a perfect body. There is no perfection either.

There is nothing in this world that is perfect. Nothing.

Other problem was the lack of concertation. He couldn't focus on anything for longer then 15 minutes before he just had to drop everything and just rest. It was difficult, considering that he is in a family full of detectives who solve cases daily.

Speaking of rest, he had problems too. Sure, being in a family that goes out every night to fight criminals and protect people of Gotham will mess up your schedule to a certain degree. But add an eating disorder to the mix and you have a recipe for disaster of a sleeping schedule.

Not to mention the control of his emotions. He found himself often having very extreme mood swings sometimes, but over time he learnt to control his emotions better. Somehow he managed to do it. But he didn't do certain things with his brothers and dad anymore.

He didn't have energy to do anything he used to do anymore. Only for patrol when adrenaline kicked in. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug when it came to patrol and some other things. But the fact is that adrenaline could only go so far.

Of course, there were close calls when it came to his family, but he managed to steer the attention away, keeping his disorder a secret for longer. If only (Y/N) knew what was going to happen soon.

Everything came to a head when all of them got back home from patrol. (Y/N) was freezing in his suit. Despite the suit being good at both heating and cooling, (Y/N) was shaking quietly. He could hear everyone talking, but he felt dizzy.

He blinked a few times before everything went black right before his eyes. Bruce has never turned around faster and Damian tried to catch him, but couldn't. Bruce ran over and quickly picked his son up, calling for Alfred to prepare the medical area.

Jason, Tim and Dick watched horrified from the side. As Bruce ran with him, he noted how light he was. Extremely lighter. Significantly. But that didn't matter now and Bruce didn't piece it together yet. Alfred watched as Bruce laid his grandson down.

Bruce had to step out to let Alfred do his thing. The boys were waiting patiently to hear what has happened to (Y/N).

" B, what's happening? " Jason asked and Bruce shook his head.

" I don't know. He just lost his consciousness out of nowhere. " Bruce explained to Jason and Damian just thought about certain things.

" Did anyone notice how often he worked out and for how long he did? " Damian asked and everyone got quiet for a moment. Dick nodded, snapping his fingers. " He does. He works out 2 hours after us too, just overworking himself. I thought it was stress. " Dick added to Damian's thought.

" And did anyone notice how often he skipped dinners? " Tim jumped in and Bruce had to think about it. He did skip dinners often.

" Or the fact that he doesn't do anything with us anymore? " Jason jumped in too and Bruce paled as he connected the dots.

" Also, his mood swings somethi- OH! " Dick said and Bruce sighed quietly.

" What are we thinking? "Jason asked and Bruce took a deep breath.

" I think that (Y/N) might have an eating disorder. " Bruce said quietly and everyone was shocked by it. But... it made sense.

" What do we do? " Tim asked and Bruce, probably for the first time in his life didn't know what to do.

" We tell him. We see how he reacts. And if he does have an eating disorder, then we are going to help him. One way or another. " Bruce declared and Dick quickly went to the Batcomputer to look into the symptoms quickly.

Just in case.

And to confirm their suspicions.

" How were we so stupid? " Jason asked and Bruce wondered the exact same thing. He did. He is his father, he is supposed to see when something is going on with his son. He is supposed to know it. If not know it, then sense it.

The dad sense! Bruce looked at the medical area where Alfred was making sure that his son and his grandson is okay.

" I was so blind. " Bruce muttered to himself as he rubbed his face.

" No B. " Dick said from the Batcomputer. There was a solemn look on his face now, eyes directed towards the medical area. " We were all so blind. But we can't stay on it now. We need to look for the ways to help (Y/N) if he does have an eating disorder and I think he does. " Dick said and Damian rubbed the back of his neck.

He couldn't help it and Jason had to sit down for a moment. Tim was just quiet. Dick looked down at the floor and Bruce just wanted to hug his son, but beat himself up at the same time.

His son has been suffering and yet they all were blind. Everyone moved to Alfred who exited and everyone was buzzing with excitement and sheer curiosity for their brother and son.

" He is skinny beyond belief. I can see his bones protruding and I nearly started crying right then and there. Oh I have been so blind. " Alfred said and the boys quickly brought him into a group hug. Bruce hesitated before joining in.

" We are going to help him. " Bruce said both to everyone and to himself. It is a promise and an oath. And does Bruce intend to make sure he fulfills it. No matter what.

[melanieph321]

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0

(DAY 2)

Riccardo Calafiori x Reader - Difficult Part 2/3

Part 1 Part 3

Reader is the media manager for Bologna FC and is reluctantly paired up to help Riccardo Calafiori with interviews after a badly played match.

Enjoy!

As expected, the locker room had been cleared of every Bologna player. You entered just as the last person left.

"He's lost his fucking mind." Said the poor boy, fleeing with a sports bag strapped to his shoulder. Despite his warning, you made your way into the locker room, ignoring the stench of man.

"Who's there?" A voice spoke in the distance.

Your heels clicked against the concrete floor as you came around the corner, frowning at the sight of flooding water and empty bottles scattered across the room.

"You?"

You found Riccardo Calafiori seated on a bench, raising his head from his hands at the sight of you.

"Surely, you'll get in trouble for this." You said, referring to the broken whiteboard that lay before his feet.

"Is that supposed to make me laugh or something?" He leaned back against the wall, regarding you with obvious irritation.

"It's time for your interviews." You said, short and firmly. You were told to keep things professional, and that's exactly what you were going to do.

"And they picked you to come with me?"

"Yes. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No." He grinned, spitfully so. "Do I have to wait for the others to finish, or do I have priority?"

"No priority. Your red card during the game assured that."

Something darkened in his eyes, causing a shiver to run down your spine. However, with a deep breath, he stood, letting out a sigh. "Fair enough." You followed him with your gaze as he made his way past you, only to come to a stop at the door. "Are you coming?"

You were happily surprised to escort Riccardo to the press conference room. Perhaps people did change?

"So..." You said, offering a quick brief of what's to come. "They'll most likely ask about the red card."

"Of course they will"

"Just cut the answer short by moving on to the next question."

"Got it."

"And if you're asked about the teams lack of performance lately, avoid mentioning names. Perhaps just try repeating what your team manager has said in previews interviews."

"Which is?" Riccardo had to tilt his head to look at you. A remarkable height difference between you.

"That it's natural for a team have a decline in performance arriving at the closing of a long season."

"Bullshit." He snorted.

You rolled your eyes. "Please hesitate to make remarks like that before the press."

"Why? That statement is bullshit and you know it. Everyone knows it."

"Well, it doesn't matter. The club doesn't need you under more fire after yet another questionable performance."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. So please, just do as I say."

"You mean say."

"What?"

"I think you meant to say, please say as I say."

The dent between your brows couldn't be more evident. And all you got was a smug smile in return.

"Moving on..." You said. Muffled voices could be heard from inside of the conference room. You suspected there to be a full house of journalists just waiting to get their hands on a hot-headed player that'll give them something to write about. "Just don't say anything stupid, please."

"You think I'm stupid?"

"No." You cringed. "Okay, yes. Sometimes." It was hard not to.

"Great."

"But it doesn't matter what I think of you. What matters is what the press thinks of the team. That's why all players have to be united in the opinion that the manager expresses."

"An opinion that's bullshit." He pushed open the door, immediately setting off a sea of flashing camera as he marched into the room and took a seat in one of the empty chairs. As the room settled down, all you could do was take your seat somewhere in the back row. Ignoring the darting eyes of your boss who, like you, could sense a disaster coming.

"Riccardo, why the red cards, are you a collector now?"

The first question was quite arrogant, even to you. However, Riccardo handled himself quite professionally, discarding the smug journalist.

"No. I prefer Pokémon. Next question."

Laughter sparked the room, to which the journalist was seated and another rose to his feet.

"Mario Canet." The man said, presenting himself.  "I have two questions: what do you think of the teams' chances next season, and will you still be here to fulfill them?"

"There's forsure potential and frankly I don't know."

A quiet murmur rose in the room, with several journalist exchanging looks of surprise.

"So you are considering leaving Bologna next season?" Said the next standing journalist, replacing the last one.

"There has been talks, yes." Riccardo confirmed. All you could do was bite your nails.

"With what teams? If you don't mind me asking?"

You failed to hear Riccardo's reply, as rapid movement appered in the corner of your eye.

"Whatta hell is he doing?" You boss plotted down in the vacant seat next to you. His face was flushed red, and his forhead once again dabbed with sweat. "Didn't you advise him to keep it short?"

"I...I did. I men I tried to but...."

"No buts. If this goes south both your and my job is on the line, got it?"

"Gotcha." All you could do was fall back in your chair, hoping, no praying that Riccardo Calafiori wasn't the man the world has made him out to be.

"I won't be taking any more questions about my future. I'm here to discuss the game." He said, which lit a match of hope within you. However, it was quickly blown out with the following questions.

"Back to the game then. How does it feel to be voted one of the least compatible defenders in the world."

"Oh, fuck off."

You bowed your head, imagining that you hadn't just witnessed Riccardo knock down a dozen microphones before storming out of the press conference. The journalists seemed at awe for the mare second before pens were put to paper, and everyone started scrambling down the next headline of their articles.

"Yeah, forget about that five percent raise." Your boss said and got up to desperately clean up the mess you made. "And don't bother coming into work tomorrow, you hear?"

"Gotcha."

Part 1 Part 3