#from then on they always celebrate both days

[oneofreid]

a maternal wish (18+)

summary: in which she wants to be a mother and spencer reid is willing to make that wish come true.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: (NSFW) slow burn smut i promise it’s worth it, talks about pregnancy and possible infertility, slight spanking, explicit language, unprotected (p in v) sex, oral sex (m!receiving AND f!receiving), hints of breeding kink if you squint

a/n: i didn’t realize how long i made this. atp i just let my mind do the work while i type. is this cannon? no. will i still post it? yea. masterlist

When you were younger, you always knew you wanted to be a mother. The idea of bringing another life into this world and being able to call them ‘yours’ creating a warm and familiar feeling. One that set off your own maternal instinct. Yearning to love and protect a child of your own as you watched them grow into their own individual person. Teaching them everything that you know, telling them stories of your own childhood, creating countless memories that you can look back on, celebrating their highs and comforting them during their lows. But most of all, the one you craved the most, the bond you would have with your own mini me as you saw the love and magic through their eyes.

Not to mention the many compliments you have received whenever you babysat your nieces and nephews, their mothers telling you how much of an amazing mother you would make someday.

Someday.

That word echoed in your mind as you walked past the countless of mothers in New York. A pang of sadness and jealousy always striking you as you envied them. The happiness in their faces while they walked with their child whether it was one or two maybe even three or four. An ache in your chest grew as you wondered what it would be like to nurture a child. One that you could give the life that you never got to learn.

Everybody knew how badly you wanted to be a mother. Spending countless hours beaming about babies and all things surrounding pregnancy, your teammates — and best friends, JJ, Emily, and Penelope always being the ones first hand to experience this side of you.

Constantly having to drag you away from the baby sections in stores, or listen to you gush about how cute a baby was that you passed.

‘Look how cute and chubby their tiny hands are! I would give anything to squeeze them.’

They could never get enough of your constant daydreams as you talked about motherhood. Envisioning what your life would look like taking care of a mini you. Only praying that one day that dream of yours would come true.

It was a slow day at the BAU, all of you doing your own thing as you sprawled out on the couch. Your feet laying on JJ’s lap while Penelope was on the opposite end, dully scrolling through the channels on the TV in your breakroom. All of you sat in silence until a photo of your cousin with her newborn baby girl popped up on your phone. The familiar ache in your chest appeared as you showed all three of the girls.

“Look how tiny she is,” you exclaimed. Adoring how precious the bundle of joy looked in her tiny hat and little fists balled up. All of them joining you in gushing about how adorable the petite newborn was.

“I just want one so bad,” you sighed. Shutting off your phone as you pressed your eyes shut. The weight of your longing to have a child of your own was heavy on your mind.

“You could always get a sperm donor, you know? I know you said you hated the idea and wanted the baby to grow up with both parental figures. But maybe look more into it, your baby would have an amazing group of uncles and aunts to love and protect them,” JJ assured you, giving you a knowing smile that even if you did decide to raise a baby alone. You and the baby would have plenty of support from the BAU, and the few family members who stuck around once you left your hometown & past life behind.

“Not to mention, you would make the best mommy ever to her! Or him…they would have the best mommy ever. And oh my gosh, how could I forget, pregnancy would look absolutely stunning on you. Kissed by the pregnancy Gods with that glow,” Penelope gushed. JJ and Emily agreeing with her on the fact that a growing baby bump would suit you well.

“I don’t know guys…I’m about to turn 36 years old. My time to have a baby of my own is practically gone. I should just forget it and stay being the cool, rich, secret spy aunt.” You sighed, sitting up from your position on the couch to run a stressed hand through your hair.

“That’s not actually true,” all of you turned your attention towards the tall figure who stood in the doorway, “I mean yes, the number of eggs a woman has in her ovaries does decline as she ages. However, it’s not totally impossible to have a child at your age. 20% of woman usually end up having kids after the after of 35. Erramatti Mangayamma, a woman living in India, was 73 when she gave birth to her child through IVF.”

The four of you stared at Spencer Reid, for what felt like longer than a minute before you spoke up, “I’m just tired of waiting for the right person to have a kid with. That’s what’s holding me back,” you blinked away a few tears that threatened to spill out, “I want the perfect family. Two loving parents. One solid household. Something I never got myself,” you continued.

The room grew quiet again. Nobody knowing what exactly to say as everyone gave you a sympathetic look, JJ offering you gentle squeeze on your shoulder. Spencer awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to another as he began to ponder in his mind.

He wanted a baby too. He just wasn’t sure if he was the perfect fit, your ideal father figure for yours.

Emily jumped up. Her phone going off, “Sorry to interrupt guys but we’ve got a case. Hotch wants us in the briefing room now.”

Everyone standing up to leave. Just before you could follow the others, Spencer lightly grabbed your arm. Stopping you completely in your tracks. His warm eyes already filled with some form of hesitation.

“Hey, after we’re done. Let’s meet at my apartment, our usual time. Okay?,” he whispered. Making sure no one else around you could hear. His tone slightly different and his demeanor more on edge, nervous, than before.

“Of course, is everything alright?,” you questioned.

Spencer gulped, offering you a small smile. “Yea, yea everything is perfect. I just��I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Spence,” you smiled. Leaning forward to place a quick kiss on his temple before heading towards the briefing room. Leaving him alone with his thoughts as he followed slowly behind you.

His stomach suddenly tying itself together in knots as the idea of having a kid together, with you ran through his mind.

Spencer always wanted to have a child of his own. Although life had a different plan for him, he was always still open to the idea of one day settling down and starting a family with someone. As time passed by and he got older, just like you, the dream that he once had seemed to be fading away.

That was until he began exploring his relationship. Although you two kept it strictly sexual, friends with benefits at most, the idea of you two getting married and becoming something more always lingered in the back of his mind.

Yet, for some odd reason, neither of you ever had the courage to finally make that move. Afraid that you’d ruin what you already have seeing as you two both had complicated love life’s. So you just stuck to being co-workers that happened friends who liked to fuck sometimes. Okay, more like any chance you got.

Or as it was actually called, friends with benefits.

Fumbling with the material of your shirt, you found yourself at the foot of Spencer’s door later that night. The place you always found yourself at where you indulged in cheesy rom-coms, read your weekly novels together, learned a new recipe, or talked about different wide world phenomenons and conspiracy theories. A space where you were welcomed to let your wildest sexual fantasies come true as Spencer made love to you in endless ways.

Your heart began to race as you contemplated actually knocking or turning around to leave. A feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that tonight would be different.

Not having any time to second guess and change your mind, Spencer’s door flew open. His brown eyes staring right at you, your body already growing hot and bothered at the thoughts of the countless positions he will put you in.

“Hey,” Spencer spoke, a grin already making its way onto his face.

Your heart fluttered even though you had just seen him a few hours prior when you had landed back from yesterday’s case, “Hey.”

“Uhm. Hey, Come on in,” he moved out of the way. Leaning against his door, extending an arm out in a gesture that said ‘this way please.’

You offered him a small smile as you walked past him, admiring his apartment. Still in the same condition it was when you had left it a couple days prior. Hearing the click of the door closing itself shut when a pair of strong arms wrapped their way around your waist, turning you around.

Spencer looked down at you, the same look he had given you earlier being written all over his face again.

“What’s wrong?,” you asked. Genuinely concerned that Spencer was having second thoughts about to tonight.

“Can we sit down? Talk for a second?”

Fuck. He doesn’t want to have sex with me anymore.

Did I say something that offended him?

Is he going to tell me that he just wants to be strictly friends now?

A lump grew in your throat as your mind began to race, the many questions and doubts that flooded your mind about what possibly Spencer needed to sit down to tell you. Allowing him to guide you to the brown leather sofa that sat in his living room. Sitting down beside him as you looked everywhere besides at him.

You took a deep breathe, picking at the skin of your nails before finding the courage to speak, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Uhm. Everything is already. I just…what I would really like is,” Spencer paused for a moment before blurting it out, “I want to have a baby with you.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest. The air suddenly being knocked from your lungs while your mouth got super dry.

“Spencer…,” you began.

“I’m serious. I want a baby with you. And I know, this is out of the blue. Our situation is nowhere ideal for the typical upbringing of a children. Hell, we’re not even in an official relationship yet,” Spencer rambled.

“Where is this even coming from, Spence?,” you asked. Unsure of what prompted him to even think of having a baby with you, you, of all people.

He sighed, “Back in the breakroom before we left for the case, I heard you talking to Garcia, JJ, and Emily about how badly you wanted kids. How you wanted your own to raise and love. Anytime that a baby is around you, you are always eager to hold them and your eyes light up.”

You nodded, listening intently to what he had to say as you followed along, “It got me thinking. We’re both in our late 30s. Our relationship is progressing and heading in the right direction. We both want the same thing. To have our own kid, raise them in a stable home with two loving parents. Something we both never had.”

“But what if this, I mean us, doesn’t work. Having and raising a kid isn’t something to take lightly, Spencer.” You pointed out, not knowing if he was actually serious about having a child with you. Or if he was just jumping at the opportunity.

“It’s not something to take lightly. However, I want this and more importantly, I want you. All of it. All of you. Our future. Raising our child or if willing, children, together and growing old. Drinking our coffee, reading our books, watching those horrible reality tv shows that you weirdly seem to love. I never thought I would see myself like that with anyone…,” he grabbed your hand, his warm eyes still completely locked and focused on you, “but I want this life with you.”

Before he could get in another word in, you pulled him up from the sofa. Closing the gap between you two, you crashed your lips onto his. The kiss so rushed yet passionate on both of your ends. You began to moan, melting into him as his large hands roamed your body.

Your own hands finding their way to tug at his hair, pulling him even close to you until there was no room for air. Tugging and gripping at his brown locks while moans left his lips, still hungrily kissing yours. Guiding you towards his bed as the back of your legs hit the soft mattress, sending you both on top.

The kiss you exchanged completely heated, both of you desperate to touch each other properly. Breaking apart from the kiss, Spencer looked down at you with lust-filled eyes. A softness clouding over them as his fingers grazed the collar of your shirt. His shirt. The metallica one that he had let you borrow the one morning you left his apartment after one of your ‘sleepovers.’

“Can I?” Spencer asked, delicately tugging at the loose fabric that covered you, his eyes searched yours for any uncertainty.

Grabbing his wrist delicately, you reassured him. “Spencer, I trust you.” Putting his mind at ease. Allowing him to pull your clothes off of you before he did the same. Pealing his clothing off until the two of you were completely bare. His eyes only growing more infatuated at the sight of you naked and ready for him on the layout of his bed.

Knowing this time would be different than the others you two have had sex.

Spencer slowly took his time to kiss every inch of your body. His lips making their way from your collar bone to the inside of your thigh, sucking on the skin to leave bruises. Marking you officially as his.

“About to make you feel so good, baby,” he mumbled.

“Spencer…I-Ohhh” you moaned, his fingers dipping slightly to graze you only to attach his lips to your folds. Head nuzzled between your soft thighs as he kneeled in front of you, your core pulsing at the sight of him devouring you like you were his last meal.

Watching him suck the bundle of nerves, the arousal in your heat pooling. The sight of him flicking his tongue while he swirled that silver tongue of his on your area driving you feral. Your hands gripping his hair while you pushed his head further, feeling your stomach tighten.

His moans vibrating against your cunt, sending you even further into your climax. Still violently flicking and licking your fingers with every swish of his delicious tongue. You panted heavily, the pace of his swirling and sucking quickly increasing until you came hard.

Humming in approval, Spencer looked up at you. His eyes clouded with hunger and lust while he licked his lips. Collecting the remnants of your cum before swiping his tongue on the inside of your thighs.

“Sweet, you taste like heaven, my love,” he praised. A smirk being sent your way while you eyed him, the bulge more than evident as his cock restrained against his boxers.

“Do you trust me?” You asked, eyes looking up at his brown ones. Still needing the reassurance that he was comfortable with you pleasing him. A boundary you two have respected since the day you first hooked up with each other.

Reid’s eyes softened again, still not used to someone caring for him that much during their most intimate times. A small smile on his face, he grabbed your hand before giving it a squeeze.

“I trust you.”

His eyes softening again, still not used to someone asking for his consent. A small smile on his face, he grabbed your hand before giving it a squeeze.

Giving him a quick kiss, you tugged his boxers down. Your eyes now leveled with his hardened length as his tip glared at you red and angry. Slowly pumping his cock, you ran your hands up and down his shaft. Feeling him tense under your touch, you began to work your mouth on his tip.

Swirling your tongue around his tip, collecting a few drops of pre-cum. Loving the taste of him on your tongue. Arousal soaking your folds again while you thought about him filling you, putting a baby, his baby inside of you.

“You’re so beautiful, Spence,” you cooed. Stroking his cock in your hand, slowly rubbing your hand up and down it. His tip red and aching due to how hard he was for you.

A blush crept on his cheeks at your compliment, muttering a small ‘thank you’ and ‘you’re so pretty’ before peppering kisses down to your collar bone.

Catching Spencer completely by surprise. You grabbed his length by the shaft, forcing it down your throat. Till his tip hit the back causing you to hold back a gag as you choked due to his size. Your saliva coating his cock as you began to hollow your cheeks in and out. Creating a sucking motion as you slid his cock up and down, Reid’s moans filling your ears sending you in a spiral. His fingers knotting through your hair to shove your head further down his cock.

“J-Just like that, honey,” he moaned. The pet name he has only ever used for you falling from his swollen lips.

His moans filled the silent room, continuing to fist your hair while he face fucked you. Tears running down your cheeks with every thrust of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Grabbing the back of his muscled thighs to get a better grip for stability.

“Fuck, you feel-“

In a swift motion, Spencer flipped you on your stomach with your ass on full display for him. Hearing the rustling of his sheets behind you, he climbed on the mattress. Grabbing his still achingly hard dick before running the tip teasingly up and down your wet folds.

A moan leaving your lips while you withered beneath his touch, growing desperate to feel him inside of you again.

“Use your words, baby. What do you want me to do you?” He nipped at the skin of your ears, sucking lightly.

“I….want you,” your breathe hitched as the tip of his cock filled your entrance, shutting your eyes tightly.

“What was that, sweetheart? I need your words. Where’s my please?” He halted, stilling his movements. Your core ached, begging for more of his cock to fill its velvet walls.

Little shit. You rolled your eyes, growing impatient by the second. Debating on just taking his dick into your own hands so that he would finally fuck you. His hands grasping your arse before smacking one cheek. Hard.

“Ohh. Fuck. Spencer, I want….I need you to fuck me. Please, pretty please baby. Fill me with all of your cum until it’s dripping out of me. Till I’m pregnant with your baby. Want to make you a daddy so bad-“

A strangled moan left your lips as Spencer finally thrusted into you, hard and fast. Leaving you no room to breathe while you struggled to catch your breathe. The wind knocked out of you as he continued to thrust into you from behind.

“Yes. Spence, baby, harder. I know you can fuck me harder,” you panted. Ready for him to completely stretch you to your limit.

Feeling completely feral as the bed rocked beneath you. Spencer’s movements harsh and rough, gaining more momentum with every thrust, railing into you from behind. His hand gently wrapped around your throat while he pounded into you underneath. The tip of his cock hitting your g-spot sending moan after moan to leave your body.

His grunts and lewd moans in your ear while he held you flushed against his chest, leaning your head to fall back onto his shoulder. Sweat dripping down both of your bodies as the room grew thick with heat and arousal.

“I can’t wait to fill you with my cum….Watch it drip outside of you. Having you wish that I could fuck you this good every single night while your pregnant with our child, right baby? Isn’t that what you want,” Spencer breathed, his own pants in your ear, moaning louder than you have ever done before.

Roughly pulling out his cock before flipping you over. Your back hitting the mattress while you lifted your legs up, wrapping them around his waist. His hand grabbing to support you up. Spencer thrusting back into you like he never pulled out, both of you keeping eye contact while tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Need to see you…you’re so beautiful, my love. Just look at you. Might have to put a ring on your finger too,” Spencer whispered in your ear. Moaning in your ear as your pussy clenched at his promising words.

The coil growing in your stomach as you peaked in your high. Thrust after thrust, Spencer added more momentum, quickening before finding another steady rhythm. An ache growing between your legs, a definite sign that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Your nails dragging along his back only to pull him in for another kiss. Not having enough to taste of him, you moaned into his mouth. His thrusts never faltering as his cock twitched inside of you. Clenching your walls around his thick shaft, pushing him to release as hot spurts of his come filled you. Your own release mixing with his while he slowly thrusted inside of you. His lips still entangled with yours, nipping at your bottom lip while your tongues swirled. Tasting every bit of each other.

Breaking away from the kiss, Spencer brushed his thumb under your eye. A few tears had fallen from the intensity and roughness of his handling. Both of you silently knowing that you could handle it and that you trusted each other.

He slowly pulled out of you, massaging the inside of your thighs before placing a delicate kiss on them. Leaving to get a wet towel as he gently cleaned your folds. A hiss leaving at your soreness and the harsh sensitivity of your nerves.

“Sorry, angel, I know you hate this part,” Spencer apologized.

You always loved how attentive and loving he was after sex. He always took care of you even if you wanted to rush out, he still made sure that you were okay after being so vulnerable.

“You don’t have to apologize, Spence, I appreciate you taking care of me after this” You smiled, still feeling on cloud nine from the work of his cock and tongue on you.

“I’ll be taking care of you nonstop for nine months then a little mini version of us for a lifetime,” he joked.

Your heart fluttered, still in awe of the fact that someone would want to have a child with you. Let alone someone like Spencer Reid.

“Do you think I’ll make a great…dad?” Spencer stammered. The word, and his soon-to-be new name, still so foreign to him.

His hand nervously playing with yours while he let it silently dawn upon him that he was actually to be one.

“The best. Spence….you are not like your father, you will never be like him. You will make an amazing dad, a caring one who will give his child the best upbringing and life possible that is full of nothing but love.”

Spencers eyes welled up with tears. getting choked up by your words. Knowing that you truly mean them. Already picturing your bump, all the milestones you’d celebrate together, and the life you would soon bring into this world.

He always dreamt of being a father. And now, that dream was become true all because of you.

[flwrstqr]

❪ 日语 ❫ 𓈒 ㅤ DREAMER, ENHYPEN AS YOUR HUSBAND ╰—— 𝓲. ⸝⸝𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝗂'𝗆 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽.

── 𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⸝⸝ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽

‎ ‎ ✶ 𝐀𝐂𝐓‎ ‎𝐈 : husband!enhypen + fem!r 1OOOwc ⟡​ fluff oneshots headcanons ࿁ you on your lady days for riki's part TT, skinship, petnames. && 【 VOGUE 】

다니 : since this won the poll,, i'll post this first (>//<) trust i'll post the other one tomorrow or some day over the weekends

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung never lets you sit anywhere but on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. “baby, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, lips grazing your skin. you giggle, hitting his arm in a teasing way. “hee, we’ve been married for years. aren’t you tired of flirting?” he pulls back, feigning offense. “never. in fact—” he tilts his head, eyes dark with mischief— “i think i’ve gotten better at it.” you roll your eyes, but he steals a kiss before you can retort, his lips melting into yours. “mm, still obsessed with me, huh?” you tease, and he smirks, tightening his hold. “hopelessly. my wife’s too gorgeous, what am i supposed to do?” you try to glare at him, but he only kisses your pout away, laughing as he pulls you closer.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 "jay, what the hell is this?" you gape at the endless shopping bags filling your living room, designer logos flashing at you like a personal boutique had exploded in your home. your husband grins, draping an arm around your waist. "happy two-week wedding anniversary, baby." you blink at him. "two weeks, jay. who even celebrates that?" he hums, pressing a kiss to your temple. "me. because i love you. and i love spoiling my wife." you groan, burying your face in his chest as he chuckles. "you're insane." he tilts your chin up, eyes twinkling. "insanely in love with you." you roll your eyes, but your heart flutters when he kisses you like he’d marry you all over again if he could. "just say thank you, pretty girl," he whispers against your lips. sighing, you wrap your arms around his neck. "thank you, my crazy but handsome husband."

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 jake finds you curled up on the couch, your soft breaths filling the quiet room, the tv still playing faintly in the background. his heart melts instantly—his wife, waiting for him, only to fall asleep. he crouches beside you, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. "my pretty girl," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. he leans in, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead, careful not to wake you. you stir slightly, lips parting, but he soothes you with a gentle hand on your back. “shh, sleep, baby,” he whispers, then, without hesitation, he scoops you up in his arms effortlessly, holding you close to his chest. he chuckles under his breath, pressing another feather-light kiss to your temple. “always waiting for me,” he sighs, carrying you to bed.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon hums, fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip as you both lie tangled in the sheets. “how about waffles, since we had it for breakfast?” he murmurs, lips brushing against your temple. you scoff, flicking his forehead. “hoon, that’s the ugliest name ever.” he chuckles, pulling you closer, his skin warm against yours. “fine, then you come up with one, genius.” you pause, thinking, and he watches you with that soft, lovestruck gaze. “hmm… i like soojin for a girl.” “soojin,” he repeats, testing it on his tongue. “pretty. what about a boy?” “maybe—” “no,” he interrupts, voice low, teasing. “i vote for waffles.” you groan, burying your face in his chest. “we’re never having kids.” he just laughs, pressing a kiss to your hair. “too late, sweetheart. i already imagined a little waffle park running around.”

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 “baby, you have a fever,” sunoo pouts, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead for the tenth time in the past minute. you groan, swatting him away, but he’s already tucking the blanket tighter around you. “stay still, i’ll get you some medicine.” before you can protest, he’s gone, returning moments later with a glass of water, a thermometer, and— “sunoo, why did you bring an entire first aid kit?” he huffs, ignoring you as he carefully pops a pill into your palm. “just in case! what if your fever suddenly skyrockets? or you faint? or—” “baby,” you mumble, tugging at his sleeve, “i think i’ll survive.” he softens instantly, cupping your cheek. “i just don’t like seeing you sick,” he whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “so let me take care of you, okay?” you sigh, giving in.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 jungwon notices before you even say a word. at exactly three hours into the party, he glances at you, eyes flickering down to your heels, and like clockwork, you mumble, “my heels hurt…” without missing a beat, he’s already reaching for your hand, guiding you toward a quieter corner. “i knew it,” he murmurs, setting down his drink before crouching in front of you. “here, hold onto me.” you blink as he loosens the straps, slipping your heels off with gentle hands. “won, you didn’t have to—” “of course, i did,” he interrupts softly, pulling out a pair of flats from the bag he brought—because of course, he thought ahead. your heart swells as he looks up, grinning. “i always know what you need.” you shake your head, laughing, but as he presses a kiss to your lips, you realize—yeah, he really does.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 "babe, what size do i have to get?" riki’s panicked voice crackles through the phone, and you bite back a laugh, curled up in bed with a heating pad pressed to your stomach. "riki, it's not jeans, just get the ones i always use," you tease, hearing him groan dramatically on the other end. "yeah, but there's like—fifty kinds! wings, no wings, overnight, ultra-thin—why is this so complicated?" he whines, and you can practically picture him, standing in the aisle with a distressed look, glaring at the shelves. you giggle, and he huffs. "stop laughing at me, i'm suffering for you," he grumbles, but then softer, "do you need anything else? chocolate? a heating pad? tell me, baby, i got you." your heart melts, even as he keeps acting nonchalant. "just hurry back, riki." "i'm already running," he says, and you know he means it.

[dante-mightdie]

There is absolutely something there regarding retired!youth counselor!John! Very much something!

good because I’m thinking about how you both fall in love with each other all over again when they see their other half being so good with the kids 🥺

seeing john helping a young lad tie his tie for the first day of secondary school because his dad walked out when he was just a baby, or when one of the girls come rushing over panicked because she got her first period and you just handle it like a pro

I could totally see you both ending up with a handful of kids who needed more than a little guidance from you, all it took was one knowing look between the two of you and it’s off to the courts to start the adoption process

I’m in love with him sigh imagine him taking over the local football club as their captain, his wife always in the stands cheering them on and a huge barbecue at the price household afterwards to celebrate their victory or even just to celebrate how proud he is of how far they’ve come 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[anticipatedexhale]

Happy birthday!!! It's a day to celebrate you!

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi, ekko

☆ ◞ summary: they surprise you on your birthday!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader, flufffff and also definitely not proofread

Mel Medarda.

Mel Medarda did not do things halfway. When she loved, she loved with intensity. When she planned, she planned meticulously. And when it came to you? Well, she was going to make sure your birthday was something you would never forget.

You had a feeling something was up when, the night before, she had simply kissed your cheek and said, “Wear something nice tomorrow, darling.” That was it. No explanation. No hints. Just a knowing smile before she walked away, leaving you both intrigued and slightly terrified.

And now? You were standing in front of an enormous, private dinner setup on one of Piltover’s highest balconies, the entire city glittering below like a sea of golden stars. A long, lavish table stretched before you, covered in candlelight, rich wines, and an array of gourmet dishes that looked too perfect to eat. Soft music played in the background, and the scent of fresh roses filled the air.

Your mouth fell open slightly. “Mel…”

She was standing beside you, looking as breathtaking as ever in a deep gold dress, her earrings catching the candlelight. She smiled at your reaction, clearly pleased with herself. “Surprised?”

“That’s an understatement,” you breathed, turning to her. “How did you—when did you—?”

She chuckled, looping an arm through yours and guiding you toward the table. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

You shook your head in disbelief as she pulled out your chair for you—because of course she did—before settling in across from you. “Mel, this is… a lot.”

She arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Are you saying you don’t like it?”

“No! It’s—” You gestured around wildly. “It’s incredible. I just don’t know how to deserve all this.”

Mel leaned forward, resting her chin delicately against her fingers. “You don’t have to deserve it,” she said softly. “I wanted to do this. Because you deserve to feel celebrated. To feel adored.”

Your chest tightened at her words. She had always been someone who built walls, who calculated every move, but with you? She always let you see the tenderness beneath it all.

A warmth spread through you as you reached across the table, taking her hand in yours. “Thank you, Mel. For everything.”

She smiled, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Happy birthday, my love,” she murmured. “Now, let’s toast—to you.”

She lifted her glass, and as you clinked yours against hers, you realized that, out of everything—the lavish gifts, the extravagant setting—the real gift was this: Mel, choosing to love you in the way only she could.

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Jayce Talis.

Jayce had never been great at keeping secrets. It wasn’t that he was bad at lying—he just got too excited and always ended up giving himself away. So, when your birthday was coming up, you could tell something was up.

He’d been acting weird all week—disappearing for hours, sending hurried messages to people when he thought you weren’t looking, and worst of all? He sucked at playing it cool.

“What are you up to?” you had asked him the night before, arms crossed as he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to distract you from a set of blueprints on his desk.

“Nothing!” he had said way too quickly, grinning wide enough to make it obvious that he was lying. “Just, uh, some important Council business!”

You didn’t buy it for a second. But instead of prying, you decided to let him have his fun.

Fast forward to today. Your birthday.

The entire morning had gone by suspiciously normally. Jayce hadn’t mentioned a word about it. No casual "Happy birthday!" No cheeky wink. Not even a hint of whatever he had been planning. You were starting to wonder if he’d somehow forgotten—until you walked into his workshop.

The second you stepped inside, BOOM!

Confetti everywhere.

Not just a little—an entire explosion of tiny colored paper pieces rained down on you from above, and in the middle of it all stood Jayce, arms wide open, looking way too proud of himself.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” he shouted, grinning like a kid who just pulled off the best prank ever.

You blinked, completely frozen in shock as confetti slowly drifted onto your hair, your shoulders… everywhere.

Jayce, realizing that maybe confetti cannons were a bit much for an indoor setting, winced. “Uh… okay, maybe that was overkill.”

You stared at him, then at the absolute mess he had just created, and finally burst into laughter.

“Jayce! What the hell?!” you managed between laughs, shaking the confetti out of your hair.

He let out a relieved chuckle, stepping forward to wrap his arms around you. “Okay, so maybe I got a little carried away,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But hey, at least it was memorable, right?”

“Very,” you teased, resting your head against his chest. “But please tell me this isn’t all you planned.”

Jayce gasped dramatically. “Of course not! Who do you think I am?”

With that, he took your hand and led you toward the back of the workshop, where a table was set up with a cake—one that was definitely a little lopsided but obviously homemade. Next to it, a small pile of gifts, and most importantly? A chair with another small confetti cannon.

“Jayce,” you warned, eyeing it.

“Okay, fine, I’ll put it down,” he said with a laugh, setting it aside. “But I do have one more surprise.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped box. The moment you opened it, your breath caught—it was a tiny Hextech pendant, glowing faintly, crafted into a delicate design.

“I made it myself,” he said, a little bashful now. “Figured you deserved something special.”

Your heart melted. All the ridiculousness, the over-the-top confetti, the chaotic energy—it was so Jayce. And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You looked up at him, smiling softly. “This is perfect.”

Jayce exhaled, finally relaxing. “Good,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

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Viktor.

Viktor wasn’t the type for grand gestures. He didn’t do over-the-top surprises or loud celebrations. He preferred the quiet things—the ones that mattered, the ones you’d carry with you long after the day had passed.

That’s why, when your birthday came around, you weren’t expecting much. Not because he didn’t care—far from it. But because Viktor was always lost in his work, constantly chasing ideas, and you didn’t want to burden him with expectations.

So, when the morning passed without so much as a mention of your birthday, you tried not to let the disappointment creep in. Maybe he really had forgotten.

But then, late in the evening, as you walked into his dimly lit workshop, you found something waiting for you on his desk.

A small, neatly wrapped package. And next to it, a stack of papers, the ink still fresh.

Your name was written at the top.

Curious, you picked up the papers, eyes scanning the first few lines. And then your heart stopped.

It was a letter. No—many letters. Pages upon pages, filled with Viktor’s precise handwriting.

You sat down slowly, hands trembling as you began to read.

He wrote about the day he met you. How he hadn’t expected someone like you to step into his life, let alone stay. How, despite the chaos of his mind and the limits of his body, you had never treated him as anything less than whole.

He wrote about the small things. The way you made tea exactly how he liked it, even though you hated the taste. How you always remembered to bring an extra blanket when he fell asleep at his desk. The way you touched him—so gently, as if you saw the pieces of him that no one else did.

He wrote about the nights he spent awake, thinking of you. Wondering how someone like him had managed to deserve someone like you.

And at the very bottom, in slightly messier handwriting, was the last line:

"If I am to leave any mark on this world, let it be the love I have for you."

Tears blurred your vision by the time you finished. You pressed a hand to your mouth, overwhelmed, as you turned to see Viktor standing in the doorway, watching you with quiet apprehension.

“You—” Your voice broke. “You wrote all of this?”

A faint flush touched his cheeks as he shifted his cane, looking away for a moment. “I am not good with spoken words,” he admitted softly. “But I wanted you to know.”

You stood, crossing the room in seconds before wrapping your arms around him. Viktor stiffened slightly, then melted into your embrace, exhaling shakily.

“You didn’t forget,” you murmured against his shoulder.

His hand came up to rest against your back. “Of course not,” he whispered. “How could I?”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes still wet. “This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”

Viktor’s lips curled into a small, almost shy smile. “Then I suppose it was worth every word.”

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Caitlyn.

Caitlyn Kiramman was a woman of precision. Strategy. Planning. She didn’t do things on a whim—every move she made had a purpose. So, when your birthday rolled around, you knew she had something up her sleeve.

But you hadn’t expected this.

“Caitlyn,” you said slowly, staring at the handwritten note she had left on your bedside table. “Is this… a scavenger hunt?”

The paper was neat, her elegant script detailing a simple instruction: "Meet me at the shooting range. Wear something comfortable. Happy birthday, darling."

A grin tugged at your lips. You had no idea what she was up to, but you weren’t about to back down from the challenge.

Clue #1: The Shooting Range

When you arrived, the place was empty—except for Caitlyn, who stood there in her crisp uniform, a knowing smirk on her face.

"Right on time," she said, stepping forward to hand you your next note.

"You really set all this up?" you asked, amused.

She winked. "I am the Sheriff, you know. I have my ways."

You unfolded the paper, laughing when you read it. "Show me what you've got—hit the target three times in a row, and I'll give you your next clue."

“Oh, you know I’m not as good as you,” you groaned, giving her a playful glare.

She merely crossed her arms, looking smug. “Then I guess you won’t be getting your next clue.”

You sighed dramatically before stepping up to take your shots. By some miracle (and maybe a little bit of Caitlyn’s coaching over the years), you managed to land all three.

Caitlyn looked genuinely impressed. “Not bad. I might have some competition.”

You grinned. “Now give me the next clue, Sheriff.”

Clue #2: The Bakery

The next stop led you to a small, tucked-away bakery—one that you and Caitlyn often visited after long days at work. The moment you stepped inside, the owner smiled knowingly and handed you a small, beautifully wrapped box.

Inside? Your favorite pastry, still warm. And another note.

"A little something sweet before your final stop. Meet me at the place where we first realized we were more than just friends."

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew exactly where that was.

Final Stop: The Rooftop

You climbed the familiar fire escape, the city stretching out beneath you. The cool breeze hit your skin as you reached the top, and there she was—waiting for you with a picnic set up, lanterns glowing softly around her.

Caitlyn turned at the sound of your footsteps, her smile softer now, more intimate. “Took you long enough.”

You let out a breathless laugh, taking in the sight. “You really went all out.”

She stepped forward, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I wanted today to be special for you. You deserve that.”

Your chest tightened at the tenderness in her voice. You reached up, taking her hand in yours. “It already is.”

She exhaled, eyes searching yours before leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. When she pulled back, she smirked. “Happy birthday, darling. Now, come on—before the food gets cold.”

And as you sat together, laughing and sharing stories under the stars, you knew that this—her—was the best gift you could have ever asked for.

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

Vi.

Vi never made a big deal about birthdays—especially her own. But when it came to you? She wanted to do something. It didn’t have to be fancy or extravagant, just something that would make you smile.

So when you woke up to an empty bed and a note scrawled in her messy handwriting—"Meet me at our spot. And wear something you can move in."—you had a feeling this was going to be interesting.

The "spot" turned out to be an old, abandoned bridge overlooking Zaun, a place you two often went when you needed to get away. When you arrived, Vi was already waiting, leaning against the railing with her usual cocky smirk.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," she greeted, pushing off and walking toward you. "Took you long enough."

"You are aware that normal people do things like dinner and gifts, right?" you teased.

Vi shrugged, draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. "Yeah, well, I ain’t normal, and you’re not getting some boring, predictable date."

Before you could ask what she meant, she stepped back and tossed you something—knuckle guards. Not unlike hers, but sleeker, custom-fitted to your hands.

You stared at them, then back at her. "Vi—"

She grinned. "Figured we could get into a little trouble together tonight. You game?"

Oh, of course she planned a street fight for your birthday. You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re unbelievable."

"Yeah, yeah, but you love me anyway," she said, nudging your chin up with her gloved hand. "And after this? We’ll grab some drinks, maybe dance, maybe do something actually romantic."

You slipped on the knuckle guards, flexing your fingers. "You know, for once, I think I like your idea."

Vi smirked. "Atta babe."

And with that, she grabbed your hand and pulled you into the night, ready to make this a birthday neither of you would forget.

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Jinx.

Jinx didn’t do things halfway. Ever. If she was going to celebrate your birthday, then it wasn’t just going to be some boring dinner or a couple of gifts. No, no, no. It had to be big. It had to be chaotic. And, most importantly, it had to be fun.

So when you woke up to a loud BOOM in the distance, followed by a series of colorful fireworks lighting up the Zaun skyline, you had a gut feeling that Jinx had something to do with it.

You barely had time to get out of bed before the door slammed open, and there she was—grinning wildly, hair messy, hands covered in soot.

“Happy birthday, hot stuff!” she practically screamed, launching herself at you.

You barely caught her, stumbling back as she wrapped her arms and legs around you like an overexcited monkey. “Jinx—what the hell was that explosion?”

She giggled, pressing a quick, excited kiss to your cheek. “Your birthday surprise!”

“…You blew something up for my birthday?”

“Duh! But it wasn’t just something—it was a whole abandoned building! You should’ve seen it—BOOM, KABOOM, colors everywhere!” She jumped down, grabbing your hand. “C’mon, I saved the best for last!”

You weren’t even dressed properly before she was dragging you out the door, her energy contagious despite the slight panic bubbling in your chest.

The Grand Finale

She led you to an open rooftop, one of her favorite hideouts. The moment you stepped onto it, you saw what she had set up—scrap metal and neon signs arranged into a very crooked-looking Happy Birthday! message, flashing erratically with sparks flying from the edges.

Your mouth fell open. “Jinx… did you—”

“Make it myself?” She puffed out her chest proudly. “You betcha!”

It was… chaotic. Dangerous, even. But it was so Jinx, and the fact that she had put in all this effort—in her own, reckless way—made your heart ache in the best way.

She flopped onto the floor, patting the space beside her. “Alright, birthday babe, sit. I got one more thing.”

You sat down, still in awe as she pulled a small, messily wrapped box from her coat. “Now, before you open it, just know that I think it’s cool, and if you don’t like it, I will cry. Probably. No pressure.”

You gave her a playful side-eye before unwrapping it. Inside was… a handmade, slightly dented metal locket, with her signature blue monkey logo engraved on it.

You opened it and nearly laughed—inside was a tiny, badly drawn stick-figure version of you and her holding hands.

Jinx watched you carefully, chewing her lip. “Sooo… you like it, or am I gonna have to start the waterworks?”

You turned to her, grinning. “Jinx, I love it.”

Her face lit up, and before you could react, she tackled you in a tight hug, knocking both of you onto the ground.

“Best! Birthday! Ever!” she cheered, giggling as she pressed kisses all over your face. “Now, let’s set off the big fireworks!”

You exhaled, laughing as she pulled you back up, her excitement never fading. And as she set off the last explosion of the night—lighting up the sky in wild, electric blue—you realized that, in all her chaos, Jinx had given you the most uniquely perfect birthday you could have ever asked for.

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Ekko.

Ekko was a man of few surprises. He was methodical, thoughtful, and knew how to make things right—whether it was fixing a broken clock or fixing his world. But birthdays? That was a bit of a new territory for him. So when yours came around, you could tell he was determined to make it special.

You woke up that morning to a soft knock on your door. When you opened it, there stood Ekko with a wide grin on his face, holding a small box wrapped in plain paper.

"Happy birthday," he said, his voice warm and a little sheepish. "I hope you like it."

You smiled, taking the gift from him and opening it. Inside was a beautiful, hand-carved pendant—a clockwork piece that looked just like a miniature version of his old time machine. It was intricate, delicate, and totally Ekko.

"You made this?" you asked, amazed.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know it's not much, but I thought you'd like something that... reminded you of us."

The pendant was a symbol of time, and that alone was enough to make your heart flutter. You couldn't help but smile as you hugged him, thankful for the gesture. "I love it."

"Good," he said, his grin returning. "Now, c'mon. I have something else planned."

A Quiet Escape Through Time

Ekko led you through the streets of Zaun, but this time, there was no rush. No plans to rush into battle or solve problems. This time, it was all about you—and the time you’d spent together.

As you walked, Ekko began to recount stories of the past: your first meeting in the undercity, when he had been just a kid trying to survive; the way you helped him and his friends when everything felt like it was falling apart. With every story, you felt yourself sinking deeper into the warmth of his words.

Eventually, you came to a quiet, secluded spot by the river, an area you didn’t even know existed. The sound of the water trickling over rocks was the only noise in the air, and the view of the stars above was breathtaking.

Ekko set down a small blanket he had brought along, gesturing for you to sit. "This was one of my favorite spots when I needed to think," he said softly. "I figured you might like it too."

You sat down beside him, your legs stretched out on the soft grass. Ekko opened a small pack, pulling out a couple of homemade sandwiches, some fruit, and a thermos filled with his own special brew.

"Happy birthday," he said again, handing you a cup of the drink. "I thought we could have a peaceful moment together. No chaos. Just... us."

You took the cup, your heart swelling with affection. "This is perfect," you said, your voice quiet but full of meaning.

Ekko watched you for a moment, then smiled, though there was something a little more sincere behind his eyes. "I know we’ve been through a lot. And I know I don’t always show it, but... I’m really glad you’re in my life."

You reached out, gently resting your hand on his. "I’m glad I’m in yours too, Ekko."

For the rest of the night, the two of you sat together, talking and laughing under the stars, with no rush or distractions. And when the moon was high in the sky, Ekko pulled you into his arms, holding you close.

"I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but I know I’m happy right here, right now," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As the night wore on, you couldn’t help but feel that Ekko’s simple, thoughtful celebration was exactly what you needed. In that quiet moment, everything felt just right. Time could slow down, but with him by your side, you knew that every second was worth it.

Author note: GUYSSSS ITS MY BDAY IM FINALLY 17 YUPPIEEE (Jan 30)

[zeizeizeizei]

Unpopular Alucard Headcanons 🦇

🦇 His heartbeat is unnaturally slow

Being a dhampir, his body doesn’t function like a human’s. His heart beats maybe once every few minutes, and when he meditates or sleeps deeply, it slows to an almost undetectable level. This makes it easy for people to mistake him for dead if they don’t know better.

🦇 Despite his regal demeanor, he can be incredibly stubborn

He gets this from both of his parents. While he is generally composed, he can be surprisingly headstrong when he believes he is right.

🦇 He secretly enjoys being around people but isolates himself out of guilt

While many see him as a lone figure, he actually enjoys companionship but feels unworthy of it due to his lineage and the weight of his past.

🦇 He sometimes forgets what his own voice sounds like

Spending long periods alone in the castle means Alucard can go days, weeks, or even months without speaking. Sometimes, when he finally does, his voice comes out quieter than expected, or he startles himself by how deep it is.

🦇 He has never truly celebrated his birthday

While he knows the day he was born, it has never been a day of joy for him. His mother may have marked the occasion with warmth, but after her death, he stopped acknowledging it altogether. He wonders if Dracula ever remembered.

🦇 He used to sing as a child but no longer does

Lisa encouraged him to sing when he was young, and his voice was light and pure. However, after losing his mother, he never found the heart to sing again. He still hums absentmindedly when lost in thought, though he never realizes he’s doing it.

🦇 His laugh is rare, but it's hauntingly beautiful

Alucard rarely laughs, but when he does, it’s light and musical, almost as if he’s forgotten how to express joy. It has an eerie, mesmerizing quality, as if for just a moment, the weight of centuries is lifted from his shoulders.

🦇 He doesn’t need to breathe, but he does anyway

His body doesn’t require oxygen in the same way humans do, but he still breathes out of habit. If he concentrates, he can go completely still, like a statue, for days without any movement.

🦇 His presence subtly affects the environment

When he walks into a room, candles flicker. The air gets cooler when he’s deep in thought. Even when he’s not using magic, something about him bends the space around him slightly, like reality itself acknowledges his unnatural nature.

🦇 His eyes glow in the dark

In dim lighting, his golden eyes reflect ambient light like a predator’s, making them glow faintly. In absolute darkness, they shimmer unnaturally, giving him an almost spectral appearance. It’s one of the reasons he avoids letting people see him at night.

🦇 He sleeps curled up, like a child

When he sleeps, especially during moments of vulnerability, he instinctively curls in on himself, as if trying to protect himself from something unseen.

🦇 He doesn’t hate his father—but he cannot forgive him either

Despite everything, Alucard still loves his father in a complicated, painful way. He understands Dracula’s grief, but he cannot forgive the destruction he caused.

🦇 He doesn’t like killing, but he is terrifying when he does

Unlike his father, Alucard does not take joy in battle. He fights with precision and restraint, but when truly enraged, he unleashes a level of destruction that unsettles even himself.

🦇 He is both afraid of and drawn to the idea of companionship

He craves connection but fears what it could mean. He has lost everyone he has ever cared for—what if he loses them again? What if he is meant to be alone forever?

🦇 He has considered letting himself die

The thought has crossed his mind more than once. The idea of fading away, of ending the lonely existence he has been trapped in. But something, some tiny ember of his mother’s voice, always tells him to keep going.

🦇 His hands shake when he’s deeply emotional

Whether it’s anger, grief, or overwhelming sorrow, his body betrays him in subtle ways. His fingers tremble, his breath hitches, and for a brief moment, the composed prince looks like a lost boy.

🦇 He can smell emotions

His sense of smell isn’t just sharp—it’s supernatural. He can pick up traces of emotions like fear, anger, or sorrow as subtle shifts in scent, which is why he’s eerily good at reading people even when they try to hide their true feelings.

🦇 He wonders what his mother would think of him now

More than anything, he wishes Lisa could see him—not just as the boy she raised, but as the man he has become. Would she be proud? Would she be sad? He will never know, and that is perhaps the greatest tragedy of all.

Source: my 🍑

Enjoy.

[crescenthistory]

2K IS SO WELL DESERVED 💓💓

Please could you analyse a relationship (maybe how it starts/people finding out) between barty and potter!reader or black sister!reader 💓

thank you kindly sweetheart<33 i did poly!bartylus x potter!reader here, so i'm choosing the noble house of black scenario here lols. i loved this one so much, especially dynamic 2, so someone feel free to request a full version once i open my regular requests 🙂↕️🙂↕️

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ANALYSE barty crouch jr. with black!sister!reader

carina's 2k celebration

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cw: reference to walburga and orion's excellent parenting (abuse), fem!reader, sibling troubles, precocious barty

regulus was barty's first best friend and he is fiercely loyal to him, to a fault

however, he is loyal within barty's own moral compass, which, as we know, is a quite unique one

meaning he is "if i see you jumping someone, i'm jumping them with you, no questions asked" loyal and "if you are upset, it is my sworn duty to make you feel different" but he is NOT "your sister is off limits loyal"

which they both find out randomly one day, more or less like this:

"salazar's soggy balls, your sister is proper fit"

"EXCUSE ME?"

queue regulus whacking barty like he's a dog getting reprimanded while barty shrieks and yells some incoherent excuse like "what? she is???"

how it goes from there depends on which dynamic you have with the black brothers

i see two primary ones:

you were either really close with regulus and thus have a more problematic but still close relationship with sirius

OR you really looked up to sirius, which made regulus distance himself for you for periods of time

(the latter one prompts much more angst in the getting together process, naturally – in a good way)

DYNAMIC 1 (regulus centred)

if you and regulus are really close, you would be brought into the slytherin skittles from the get go and thus would have a friends to lovers arc with barty

after regulus whacked barty for drooling over "my baby sister" (you're like. eleven months younger than him.), he keeps an eye on barty

i think barty frankly would not care at all and would continue flirting with you unabashedly

"when have i ever let reg dictate my love/dating/sex life before?"

though he would be saving the more salacious comments for when regulus isn't around

and trust that he would be pursuing spending time with you when regulus isn't around – once he got hung up on you it's almost like a compulsive tic, he just has to be close to you

you would probably be the only one having any moral qualms about it, wondering how regulus would feel and how things might change

as a black sister, you would likely feel like everything good in your life is a hair width's away from falling apart and live in constant fear of that while trying to remain nonchalant

yet barty's pull towards you is far from one-sided – he gives you that calmness in the chaos and chaos in calmness that you craved

only when you nearly have your first kiss in a hallway and you pull away last second talking "what about regulus?" do i think it might register with barty that he could genuinely be upsetting his best friend

prompt the always direct barty more or less marching into his dorm he shares with regulus and evan, declaring: "regulus arcturus black, i love your sister. you have no right giving out blessings, but would you please get behind this, it's upsetting her."

it would be a ROUGH conversation, but regulus knows both of you well enough to know when you're being serious about something

and barty was being deadly serious

after they've talked it through and regulus has said something along the lines of "as long as you promise it's not just a shag, then sure, be my guest. but i want to hear NONE of it", i think he would make a beeline to gryffindor

to find sirius, of course, for once daring seek out his older brother's advice, because it's for their "better third"

"sirius, i need you to calm yourself and not be mad at them because i genuinely need your advice"

it took a LOT of schooling his face for sirius to not rip his eyeballs out at the mention that barty is interested in you, but he kept calm, for regulus

he could tell that he needed it

they talked it all out

it genuinely made regulus feel better and more secure in it, but the second he left the room, sirius turned around crying to james in the exact same way

queue sirius pulling barty aside the next day to borderline threaten him to not mistreat you

and for YOU to then pull SIRIUS aside and have an angsty sibling confrontation of "is it more important to you to go to him first and be all protective, instead of to me and offer any support or congratulations?"

i think regardless of if you have a troubled relationship for a while, he still sees you as his whole world; something to take care of

so he would nod his head, properly reprimanded and give you the first hug you've shared in a while

barty is by FAR sirius' least favourite in-law and barty adoreeeees that fact, loving to rub it in

you'll have to gently be like "babe, please" to have him calm down and not agitate sirius (and by consequence regulsu) too much

it was chaotic but just right

DYNAMIC 2 (sirius centred)

you grew up always looking up to sirius – he's three years older, so the perfect age for you to think everything he does is so cool

you were still relatively young when everything went down with sirius and walburga, so you had a slightly more coloured image and fuzzy memories surrounding the abuse at home

less resentment, more uncertainty towards your parents while still idolising sirius, at least for a while

i think sirius in any dynamic considers his sister his "baby" to some degree, partly because you were the youngest, partly because of his upbringing presenting women as someone to be taken care of – and largely because you let him baby you, unlike regulus

you saw sirius as more of an authority figure than you ever did regulus and he always felt safer than your parents, so when you had nightmares as a child, sirius was the one who could soothe you the best

when you were anxious, he was the one who could talk you out of it, tether you to the earth

sirius saw you as more innocent and less tainted than him, so you could in return make him feel a bit better, a bit more like he had a purpose

i think this dynamic would make regulus very resentful of the both of you

yet another example of him being the second option, of him not measuring up, etc. -> in regards to both you and sirius

in regulus' mind, you were the better younger sibling and sirius was the better older sibling – regulus was alone

so he isolated himself more and more from the both of you as he grew up in a misguided act of self-protection

to the extent that when you started hogwarts, you were never introduced to his friends

i think they asked about you when you finally started hogwarts, but he brushed it aside so assertively that they dropped it

this is in stark contrast to sirius' marauders who happily brought you along more often than not

you were not really a part of their friend group, more so that you became everyone's honorary little sister while you established yourself your own good friends within your house and year

sirius would meet you at every breakfast, even if only to ruffle your hair and kiss your head while you groaned, embarrassing you in front of your friends

you knew of who regulus' friends were and you saw him around often, but it had been made clear to you not to engage

i think it would be the kind of situation where regulus implied you stay away, which hurt you and made you stay away, which in turn hurt him – the cycle goes on

so you never really got to know them beyond their reputations and sirius' complaints about them

until around your fifth year when you would meet barty in some capacity (same class because you were excelling above your year, same secluded area of hogsmeade, etc.)

you hit it off massively, bantering back and forth in a way that makes barty feel both challenged and seen

his interest is piqued

after which is when he makes the comment to regulus about how he finds you "proper fit"

this time, regulus loses his mind over it not because it's his baby sister, but because of his resentment, jealousy and even fear that you would be taking someone else away from him

he would not be making sense to barty, reverting back to his younger and more hurt self before stalking off

if barty, evan or even dorcas tried to bring it up to regulus afterwards, he would just say "let's not talk about her/them" curtly

he only spoke to pandora about it and she kept quiet to the others, respecting his space and boundaries

in this instance, it would be clear to barty that his interest in you was not okay, but it didn't subside

on the contrary, it only continued blazing and he kept meeting you often, mostly by coincidence – but he stayed on purpose

you think nothing much of it before regulus angirly stalks up to you when he sees you chatting in the hallway, roughly grabs your arm to haul you away and whispers something along the lines of "you have sirius. you got sirius, you can't take barty too"

queue massive sibling fight that barty eventually has to get involved in, ignoring the sound of his breaking heart

while you often ignored each other, the tension that arose between you and regulus was now palpable and uncomfortable

you were hurt regulus viewed you the way he did and always competed with you – why did he care so much for sirius' love and not yours?

regulus was hurt because he felt abandoned yet again – both by barty, but also you because he loved you and missed you

having no idea what to do, i think barty would be forced to do the one thing he had sworn to himself, any god he occasionally spoke to and regulus he would never do:

he willingly went to speak with sirius black

"believe me, i don't want to do this any more than you do, but i don't think they can get over this on their own"

i think barty might be able to articulate how regulus feels like the "odd one out" of the siblings and show sirius that regulus' standoffishness is just years of pain schooled away and not him being an aloof bother

which sirius knows but has never been able to work past regardless, not before it was presented to him like this

and while sirius would still be disturbed by it, i think this might be the only way to make him understand that barty loves you – because there was no other word but love for the pull he felt towards you, the emptiness he felt without you

the two of them would plot and scheme to get you and regulus in the same room at the same time, locking all four of you inside

when they begin to try and start a civil conversation, you and regulus are on the offensive and hostile

it is when you burst out something along the lines of "why do you hate me?" that regulus' face falls

"i could never hate you."

it would be an even rougher talk, but you are able to understand each other's pain at last

"i never meant to take him away from you, i never meant to take anything away from you. i just want to be part of your life again."

"it's never felt like i deserve a spot in your life, though. like you want me there."

"regulus there is not a day that i don't wish you were sat beside me."

loooooooong awaited hug

barty and sirius would have stepped back as mediators once the first realisation set in between you, watching while leaning on a desk from afar, feeling oddly united for a moment

at last, regulus would murmur: "do you love him"

you looked at barty for a long time before looking back to regulus with a quivering lip, despite knowing the answer

"only if you'll let me. only if you'll be okay with it."

and though a part of him might still be scared and kicking and screaming, he would use all of his big brother love to pull you close, kiss you on the forehead and whisper repeatedly "it's alright, it's alright. i'm sorry, it's alright."

barty held it together well for regulus' sake, but the second he was left alone with you he swept you up in the closest embrace

"i'm so proud of you"

not only are you the most compelling, bewitching, well, witch he had ever met, but you seemed to be the one person capable of piecing his best friend back together

went through hell to be a match made in heaven

[ateezscupid]

I need yungi x reader after concert smut jsjsj

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST yungi noticed you out of everyone in the crowd ♡

Yunho and Mingi lounged backstage, their energy still buzzing from the concert. The air had the scent of sweat, hairspray, and the faint smell of burnt rubber from the fire effects. Yunho leaned against the cool metal of his locker, his chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths as he tried to calm his racing heart. Mingi sat on the floor, legs stretched out, sipping water from a plastic bottle.

You came out of the storage closet with two towels, one for Yunho and one for Mingi, to help them cool down. You had been their stylist for months now, and the bond you shared had grown stronger with each performance. As you approached, you could feel the tension in the air thicken. The chemistry between the two of them was palpable, a dance of unspoken desires and playful glances.

"You guys are really fucking sweaty so here," you said, tossing them the towels with a laugh.

Yunho caught his with a grin and began wiping his forehead. "Thanks," he murmured, his eyes lingering on you for a beat longer than usual.

You forced yourself to ignore that, glancing at Mingi. "So? Was it a good performance at least?"

Mingi nodded, a tired smile on his face. "It was amazing. The crowd was wild tonight."

You couldn't help but agree. The atmosphere during their performance had been amazing. As you watched them wipe down their faces and necks, you felt a familiar stirring in your stomach. Being around these two, especially post-concert, was always a rollercoaster of emotions.

"Uh, so," you clear your throat, trying to shake off the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, "What's the plan for the night?"

Yunho looked at you, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Well, I was thinking of a little celebration, just us." He threw his towel around his neck and stepped closer.

"I- You- Wait, us? Three?" you stuttered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as the implication of his words settled in.

Mingi chuckled, standing up and taking a step closer as well. "Yeah, just us. It's not every day we have a show like that." He wrapped the towel around his neck and took your hand, pulling you gently closer to the both of them.

Your heart was racing now, and your mind was spinning with possibilities. You had always felt a pull towards both of them, but you never thought anything would come of it. You were their stylist, after all, and crossing that professional line was risky.

"Uh, I- s-sure, yeah." You managed to squeak out, the room suddenly feeling much hotter than the post-concert heat could explain.

Mingi glanced at Yunho, then the dressing room in the back. "That dressing room is empty. How about we go in there?"

Yunho nodded in agreement, his gaze never leaving yours. You took a deep breath and allowed them to lead you into the room, the door clicking shut behind you. The space was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the flickering bulbs of the vanity mirror. The walls were plastered with posters and polaroids from past performances, creating a collage of memories.

Mingi reached out and switched on the fan, the whirring sound filling the quiet space as the cool air circulated around you. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, the anticipation building. You had fantasized about moments like this, but never dared to believe they could become a reality.

"So…w-why'd you want to be in her-"

"Stop acting dumb," Yunho said with a smirk, cutting you off. "You know why."

Mingi stepped closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. "We've noticed how much you care for us, how much you put into every detail of our performances."

You nodded, swallowing hard. "It's my job," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yunho took a step closer, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. "It's more than that," he murmured, his eyes searching yours. "You always give us extra attention, staying up late to fix our outfits, making sure we look perfect."

Mingi's hand slid down your arm, his fingers lightly brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "We just wanted to show you how much we appreciate you," he said softly. "How much we…desire you."

"Oh my god," you exhale, your eyes darting between the two of them. Yunho's touch sends a warm jolt through your body, and you feel yourself leaning into it despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Mingi's hand moves to your waist, gently pulling you closer to him. His eyes are dark and intense, and you can feel his breath against your cheek as he whispers, "We've wanted this for a long time."

Yunho's hand slides around to the small of your back, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin as he leans in, his voice low and seductive. "We've talked about it, you know," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. "How amazing it would be."

You tried to speak but everything was bubbling in your throat, making words impossible. You felt Yunho's hand at the base of your neck, gently turning your head towards him, and before you could think, his lips were on yours. They were soft and warm, and you melted into the kiss, feeling his tongue slip in to dance with yours. His other hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer so that your bodies were flush together.

Mingi's hand on your waist tightened, his thumb making small circles on the bare skin above your shirt. He leaned in and kissed your neck, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moaned into Yunho's mouth, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his sweaty shirt.

Breaking away from the kiss, you looked up at Yunho, his eyes dark with lust. "I-I don't know if we should do this," you murmured, trying to gather your thoughts.

Mingi's hand slid around to the front of your shirt, his thumb grazing your collarbone. "Why not?" he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "We're all adults, and we all know what we want."

Yunho's hand had moved down to your hips, his thumbs tracing the waistband of your pants, and you could feel his hardness pressing into your stomach. The thought of turning them down was fading fast. You looked at Mingi, his eyes filled with desire, and you knew that you couldn't resist.

With a shaky breath, you leaned back into the kiss, your hands roaming over Yunho's chest and back as you gave in to the passion. Mingi's kisses grew more insistent, moving down your neck to the collar of your shirt. His hand slipped beneath the fabric, his fingers playing with the clasp of your bra. The tension was unbearable, the three of you tangled together in a dance of need.

Yunho broke away, his eyes searching yours for consent. You nodded, unable to find the words to express how much you wanted this. He smirked, his hands moving to the buttons of your shirt, deftly unbuttoning them one by one. The cool air of the room hit your hot skin as he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, revealing your bra. He leaned in, his breath hot on your skin as he kissed along the exposed line of your neck.

"Oh my god," you breathe out, the sound of fabric rustling as Yunho's shirt hits the floor. The room is a cocoon of heat, the fan's breeze brushing against your skin doing little to cool the fire that has ignited within you. You feel Mingi's hands at the zipper of your skirt, the slow descent of the material releasing the tension of the moment.

"You're so beautiful," Mingi murmurs, his eyes tracing the path of your curves as your skirt pools around your ankles. You step out of it, standing before them in just your bra and panties, feeling both vulnerable and powerful.

Yunho's fingers trace the edges of your bra, his eyes locked on yours. "May I?" he asks, his voice husky. You nod, your breath hitching as he unclips it, the fabric falling away to reveal your bare chest.

Mingi's gaze lingers on your breasts before he leans in to kiss you again, his tongue flicking against your bottom lip. His hands roam your body, exploring every inch of your exposed skin. You can feel his hardness pressing against you, and the need to touch him becomes overwhelming. You reach down to unbuckle his belt, feeling the heat radiating from his body as you do so.

"So needy," he growled.

As you unbutton his pants, Yunho's hand slides up your thigh, his fingertips grazing the lace of your panties. You gasp into Mingi's mouth, the sensation making your knees weak. He takes this as an invitation and slides his hand under the fabric, his touch making you wet and desperate for more.

Yunho's hand joins Mingi's, their fingers teasing and exploring, making you squirm between them. Your own hands are busy with their shirts, pushing them over their heads to reveal their toned bodies. The smell of their cologne and sweat mixes with the scent of arousal in the air.

Mingi kisses his way down your neck to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth. You arch your back, the pleasure shooting through you. Yunho kisses down your spine, his hands sliding to the back of your panties and pulling them down. The cool air on your exposed skin sends goosebumps racing down your legs.

You're standing in the middle of the dressing room, both of them worshiping your body with their mouths and hands. The only sounds are the muffled moans and the steady beat of the fan. You can't believe this is happening, but you don't want it to stop.

"Take them off," Yunho commands, his voice low and authoritative. You obey, stepping out of your underwear, leaving you completely bare before them. They look at you with hunger, and you feel your body respond, eager for what's to come.

Mingi picks you up, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he carries you to the couch in the corner of the room. He sets you down gently, kneeling before you as he kisses up your inner thighs. You're panting, your hands fisting in his hair as he brings his mouth closer to where you need him most.

Yunho stands before you, unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the floor. He's already hard, and the sight of him makes you wetter. He climbs onto the couch, his hand reaching for yours, guiding it to his cock.

As Mingi's tongue meets your clit, you let out a cry that's muffled by Yunho's kiss. His hand is in your hair, holding you in place as you explore his body with your mouth. The sensation of Mingi's mouth on you and Yunho's hand guiding yours is almost too much to handle.

"Who woulda thought our stylist was such a whore?" Mingi murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he teased your folds with his tongue. His words should have stung, but instead, they sent a thrill through you, making you wetter.

Yunho's hand tightened in your hair, guiding you to take more of him into your mouth. You felt his cock pulse under your touch, the taste of him making your mouth water. His thumb stroked your cheek as he watched Mingi's mouth work on you, his eyes filled with lust.

The tension grew as Mingi's tongue swirled around your clit, his fingers sliding into you, stretching and curling. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the pressure building with each stroke.

"So pretty with your mouth all full like this," Yunho murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you take him in deeper. You moaned around his cock, the vibration making him shiver. Mingi's tongue flicked against your clit, his pace increasing, and you felt yourself getting closer to the brink of ecstasy.

"Are you close?" Yunho chuckles, watching your face contort with pleasure as Mingi's tongue works magic on you.

You nod, unable to form words as you feel your climax approaching. Mingi's fingers speed up, pushing deep inside you, and you moan around Yunho's cock.

"Good girl," Mingi whispers, his voice a gentle rumble against your skin as he feels your body tighten around his fingers. He increases the pressure, his tongue circling your clit as you squirm, lost in the sensations he's creating. You can't believe you're here, with two of your celebrity crushes, about to come undone by their skilled hands and mouths.

Yunho's grip on your hair tightens, his hips thrusting gently as he feels your mouth suck him deeper. He groans in pleasure, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches you give in to the moment. You can feel his cock pulsing in your mouth, and the thought of making him come sends another jolt of arousal through your body.

Mingi's fingers are like a maestro, conducting an orchestra of sensations that have your legs trembling. You're so close, and you know it's only a matter of seconds before you shatter into a million pieces. His tongue presses down on your clit, and you moan around Yunho's length, the vibration sending you spiraling over the edge.

"She's so pretty when she cums," Mingi murmured, his tongue still working your clit as your body convulsed with pleasure. You whimpered around Yunho's cock, the waves of your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Yunho's eyes were intense, his jaw clenched as he watched you come apart for them. "Swallow," he ordered, his own climax approaching. You nodded, feeling the warmth of his seed fill your mouth. You obeyed, swallowing with a gulp, the salty taste lingering on your tongue.

"So pretty," Mingi echoed, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watched the tremors of your orgasm subside. He kissed up your stomach, his lips meeting Yunho's, sharing the taste of your pleasure. The two of them pulled back, their eyes on you as you caught your breath.

Yunho's hand gently caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing away the beads of sweat that had formed. "Our turn," he whispered, his eyes dark with lust as he leaned in to kiss you again. You could feel the heat of his desire, his breath hot against your lips. You nodded, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of your climax.

Mingi stood up, his own erection obvious against his thigh. He pulled you to the edge of the couch, his hands sliding around your waist as he positioned himself between your legs. Yunho kissed down your neck, his hand reaching to stroke your still sensitive nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

Mingi's eyes met yours as he lined himself up with your wet entrance. You gasped as he pushed inside, filling you in one slow, deliberate motion. His eyes never left yours as he began to move, his strokes long and deep. You felt your body respond immediately, the pleasure building again, even as the aftershocks of your first orgasm still danced across your nerves.

"O-Oh my-" you panted as Mingi began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you with a delicious rhythm. His eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making you feel seen and desired in a way you never had before. Yunho's mouth traveled down your body, his kisses leaving a trail of fire that made you arch your back and press into Mingi's thrusts.

"T-Too big-" you reached for Yunho's shoulder, your eyes widening with a mix of pleasure and shock as Mingi filled you completely. His strokes grew more insistent, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the small room.

"You can take it," Yunho whispered in your ear, his hand moving down to play with your clit. The dual sensations of Mingi inside you and Yunho's touch on your clit was too much, and you threw your head back, letting out a moan that was equal parts pleasure and surprise.

"F-FUCK-!" You wince, your eyes watering as Mingi stretches you open wider than you've ever felt. You're so tight, so slick around him, and it feels incredible. He grunts, his hips rolling into you, his abs flexing as he holds your gaze, his eyes never leaving yours.

Yunho's hand on your clit is a symphony of sensations, his thumb flicking and pressing, syncing perfectly with Mingi's deep, claiming thrusts. The two of them are relentless, their movements in sync, their breathing heavy in the quiet of the room. You're sandwiched between them, a maelstrom of pleasure building inside you once more.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Mingi groans, his eyes never leaving yours as he picks up the pace. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moans that want to spill out of you. You can feel his cock hit that perfect spot with every thrust, the friction making your toes curl.

"Good girl, takin' me so good, princess. You're gonna make me cum," Mingi's voice was strained with lust as he pumped into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You could feel his muscles tense and his breath hitch as he approached his climax. Yunho's hand never left your clit, his movements becoming more urgent as he watched Mingi claim you, the sight of it driving him wild.

The room was a haze of pleasure, the three of you lost in the moment, the scent of sweat and arousal filling the air. The only sounds were the slaps of skin, the heavy breaths, and the occasional moan that slipped from your lips. You could feel your body tightening again, the orgasm building like a storm within you.

Mingi's hand slammed against the couch cushion as he pushed deeper, his eyes glazed with lust. "I'm gonna cum," he grunted, his movements becoming more erratic. You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge once more.

Yunho's hand moved to your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple as Mingi's pace grew even faster. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting closer to the precipice of another orgasm.

"Cum for us," Yunho whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His hand slipped away from your clit, and you felt the loss like a pang in your core. But before you could protest, he slid his fingers into your mouth, coating them with your juices before moving back to your chest, using your own wetness to slick over your sensitive nipples.

Mingi's strokes grew deeper and more demanding, his cock swelling inside you, the pressure building. You could feel his need, his desire to mark you as his, and it only served to increase your own. You moaned around the fingers in your mouth, the taste of yourself mixing with the salt on Yunho's skin.

"Do it," you whispered, your eyes finding Mingi's again. He took it as permission, his movements growing more frenzied as he neared his peak. His eyes locked with yours, he gave a final, powerful thrust before stilling, his warmth flooding you as he came, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Mmmh!" you gasped, your eyes widening as Mingi's cock pulsed inside you, the sensation sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. His chest was heaving against yours, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he pulled out, a trail of cum connecting the two of you.

Yunho wasted no time, his hand sliding down to guide himself into your still quivering pussy, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. He pushed in, filling you completely, the feeling making you whimper with pleasure. His movements were slower, more deliberate than Mingi's, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to move.

You felt like you were in a daze, your body still reeling from the intense climax you had just experienced. But as Yunho's cock slid in and out of you, the pleasure began to build again, a gentle warmth spreading through your core. His hands roamed your body, his fingers tracing every curve, every dip, as if memorizing your form.

Mingi didn't move away, instead, he kissed along your jaw, his hand moving to your clit, taking over where his mouth had been. His touch was gentle, tender, as if savoring every second of the moment. You could feel his cock growing hard again, pressing against your thigh as he watched Yunho fuck you.

"Cmon baby, be loud," Yunho urged, his voice gruff and thick with need as he thrust into you, his eyes never leaving yours. The feeling of being filled by him was incredible, his size stretching you deliciously. Mingi's gentle touch on your clit was the perfect contrast, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

You moaned, your hips bucking to meet Yunho's rhythm. The combination of his deep strokes and Mingi's deft fingertips had you spiraling again, your body a live wire of sensation. The room was a symphony of moans and gasps, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing in the enclosed space.

Yunho leaned in, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispered, "You're so fucking perfect. You make me feel like I'm gonna lose my mind." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you tightened around him, eager to bring him closer to his own release.

Mingi kissed his way down your neck, his breath hot on your skin. "You're so tight around him," he murmured, his eyes locked on where their bodies joined. His hand moved to your ass, his fingers digging in as he encouraged you to ride Yunho's cock faster.

You felt the tension building, your muscles tensing as the pleasure grew. Yunho's hand found yours, his grip tight as he guided your hand to his chest. You felt his heart racing, matching the tempo of your own. His strokes grew deeper, more urgent, and you knew he was close.

"I'm gonna cum," Yunho groaned, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment before snapping open again, staring into yours with an intensity that stole your breath. You felt yourself tighten even more around him, your body eager to feel him release inside you.

Mingi's thumb circled your clit faster, his other hand moving to cup your breast, his fingers playing with your nipple. "Do it, baby, come for us," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. The dual sensations of Yunho's cock and Mingi's touch was too much, and with a keening cry, you shattered around them, your body convulsing with pleasure.

Yunho's eyes widened as he watched you come, his own orgasm crashing into him. He thrust deep one last time, his cock pulsing inside you as he emptied himself into you. "Ah, fuck," he grunted, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.

For a moment, the room was still, the only sounds the harsh breaths of three people lost in the aftermath of passion. Yunho's chest heaved against yours, his heart pounding in time with yours. He leaned in, kissing you gently, his tongue tracing the line of your lips before delving in for a deep, lingering kiss.

Mingi's hand slowly slid away from your clit, and he leaned back, watching you with a satisfied smile. "You're amazing," he murmured, his eyes sparkling with lust.

You felt a blush spread across your cheeks, the reality of what had just happened finally setting in. You had just had sex with both of them, your idols, your friends. The thrill of the moment was intoxicating, leaving you lightheaded and giddy.

Yunho pulled out, his cock glistening with your juices. He leaned back, his hand caressing your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Mingi leaned in, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth. "This isn't the last time,"

[rafesangelita]

♡ it’s that time of year again, and kook!sweetheart!reader is here and ready to kiss for charity in her annual kissing booth! however, rafe is first in line.. and a peck on the cheek is not the only thing he’s interested in..

warnings: s1!rafe, flirty banter, dirty talk, heavy petting, fingering, overstimulation, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), hair pulling, multiple orgasms

a/n: now presenting… ‘KISSING BOOTH’ 🤍 i was so obsessed with this idea, i had came up with it last year but decided i should wait for valentine’s day to write it, so to say it’s been a long time coming is an understatement! i’m so excited for this valentine’s day celebration, i hope you all will love it <3

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.5k

“wow, it looks like cupid threw up in here.” you smiled at the familiar voice, your best friend rolling her eyes when she saw the way your cheeks heated at rafe’s teasing words. while she thought rafe was annoying and insufferable, you absolutely adored him, always laughing at his lame jokes and letting him hold you close at parties as if to let everyone know that you were off limits. “you don’t like the way i decorated the booth?” you pouted up at him as he leaned over the front counter, a smug grin gracing his features. “yeah, it’s cute..” he trailed off, “but are you really gonna kiss some random assholes for a fuckin’ dollar?”

you sighed, pointing towards the tip jar. “it’s for charity, rafe.. and i’m not really ‘kissing’ anyone, i’m barely grazing their cheek!” rafe scoffed before studying you for a moment. you were such a pretty thing, the idea of some losers waiting in line to get something as little as a peck from you made his blood boil. “how much money do you have to make today?” he was fishing in his pocket for his wallet before you even answered. “i would like to make at least three hundred dollars.” you watched him curiously as he managed to get some crisp bills out of the expensive leather.

“i’ll do you one better, and give you five hundred dollars to ditch this joint right now.” you blinked, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “are you serious?” he dropped the money in the jar that you decorated with pink heart-shaped stickers and red rhinestones. “yeah, but i don’t just want a kiss..” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “i’d rather see those pretty, sparkly lips wrapped around my cock instead, yeah?” you felt butterflies flutter in your tummy, your needy gaze meeting his own. “come on, baby.” he took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing into your skin.

swallowing thickly, you glanced over at your bestie. “i can’t leave her to do this all by herself..” just as you were going to apologize and tell him maybe another time, she took the money out of the jar and placed it into an envelope. “i’m gonna go turn this money in to the charity organizers and close up shop, ‘looks like the boys of kildare will have to be kissed by someone else today.” you giggled, motioning for rafe to come inside once your friend left. he wasted no time, locking the wooden door shut as you closed the window, moving the silky red curtain over the glass.

rafe’s hands were palming the soft flesh of your ass in an instant, his large hands shamelessly flipping up your skirt to get a better grip on your skin. despite the small amount of pain he drew from squeezing you so hard, you still moaned blissfully when he took you in a sloppy kiss, his tongue wetting your bottom lip in the process. “you’re so sweet, y’know that? letting me have my way with you like this.” without warning, rafe took ahold of your thighs before hiking you up onto the counter. “i’ve been wanting to know how you taste for so long..” he groaned, both of you moaning as he rubbed you through your panties.

moving your hands to run down his chest, you and rafe shared a look before he slowly peeled back the pink lace. “all i gotta do is chat you up, and you’re already soaked like this?” he laughed incredulously, “fuck, you’re just dying for it.” you couldn’t help but whimper when he gathered the pool of slick between your folds, circling your clit slow and hard before popping his digits into his mouth. “rafe!” you’re shocked but so turned on at the same time, the look of pure disbelief on your face making him smile in amusement. “as much as i’d love to eat this sweet pussy, i need to feel you wrapped around me even more.”

fingertips hooking in the waistband of your panties, rafe slid the material down your legs before placing them in his pocket. “i’m keeping these for later, ‘that alright?” you nodded frantically, spreading your thighs open for him before he stroked your glossy slit. “m’gonna stretch you out just right..” you gasped, your eyebrows knitting together as he slowly inserted his middle finger. “shit, you’re so tight.” he smiled down at you, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “if you think this is a stretch, just wait til’ i have my cock inside of you.”

rafe was knuckle deep at this point, your pretty moans giving him all the encouragement he needed to insert another finger. “oh, god!” your heel clad feet began shaking when his palm met your swollen clit, the pressure making you keen. rafe fisted your ponytail, pulling your head down so you could watch him curl his digits in order to hit that soft, gummy spot inside of you. your top was out of place, your tits threatening to spill out of your bra as rafe used his free hand to keep your chin pointed down. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more you tried to pull away from him, the intensity of your climax already coiling tight in your tummy.

rafe let go of your hair and pinned you down by your hip as he pushed you over the edge, the band in your stomach finally snapping as you came undone. you cried out, your nails raking down his forearm as he hissed at the stinging sensation. “you’re doing so fucking good, holy shit!” he cursed, the sound of your slick juices making your cheeks heat. you shook and writhed beneath him, your heart beating in your ears as you felt the pure unadulterated pleasure wrack through your system. surely, it couldn’t get better than this.. right?

wrong.

rafe wasn’t lying when he said the stretch from his fingers was nothing compared to the stretch of his cock, the tip of his length now kissing your poor cervix with each thrust. “t-too much! rafe, slow down!” he ignored your pleas, instead taking your arms and pinning them to your back so you couldn’t push against his abs anymore. you swore if it wasn’t for him holding your leg up, you would’ve fallen to the ground already. “ah, nah you got it, pretty girl.” he leaned down, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “this is all you, sweetheart, you’re sucking me in like a fucking vice.” he panted.

rafe was close, but he meant what he said earlier— he needed to see you on your knees for him, he needed to see those swollen lips wrapped around his cock just like how he’s imagined for so long. just when rafe felt like he was going to fill up your cunt, he pulled out, quickly pushing you to the floor so he could use your throat instead. you’ve given him complete control, and the power to throw you around as he got you on your knees, kicking your thighs apart so he could see the mess you made between your legs. rafe nearly came when he saw you open your mouth so willingly for him, almost like it was your instinct to take him whole.

taking the hem of his shirt between his teeth, rafe kept the cotton material out of the way as he slid between your lips with ease. you were so warm and so wet, and just so, so, so pretty with your mouth full, he took a breath before tugging at the roots of your hair. “make me fuckin’ cum,” your eyes widened slightly when he whimpered, the sound making you take him even further until your nose was nudging at his base, “oh, what the fuck, what the fuck—” he was done for as soon as you swallowed around him, your eyes watering with tears as you felt the warm ropes of his seed paint your throat.

rafe kept your head in place, his jaw slack as he emptied himself inside of you. it wasn’t until you tapped on his leg that he pulled you off, a strangled gasp leaving your lips as you finally sucked in a breath. he felt dazed, just the same way you did. “damn, sweetheart, should i bribe you more often?” you laughed, accepting the hand he held out for you. standing up on shaky legs, rafe got his shorts on, helping you readjust your clothing shortly after. “you don’t have to bribe me..” despite just doing the most filthiest things you’ve ever done, you still couldn’t help but feel shy underneath the intensity of his stare.

rafe kissed you, taking your hand in his before placing another kiss to your knuckles. “come on,” he poked his head out of the booth to make sure no one was around, “let’s get you back to my place, i need to get my head between those thighs like asap.”

[plumeria1]

Family Time

Note: This post is for @trinityobsessesovatings who made this cute demand asking. I thought I wouldn't finish it until tomorrow, but since I just finished it, I'm posting it now. I hope you like it.

Pairing: Caitlyn Kiramman x Fem Reader

Warning: None

Content: Fluff, etablished relationship

Summary: A sweet moment with your wife and your daughters

You loved rainy days; those were the days when you and your wife, Caitlyn, could spend the day at home.

Since the end of the war against Noxus, things had calmed down. You had accepted Councilor Medarda's proposal to join the council.

When Caitlyn was offered to take her mother's place on the council, she refused, preferring to focus on her job as sheriff. But she had warmly recommended that you take her place; she knew you would do very well.

Shortly after you joined the council, Caitlyn invited you to dinner, pretending to want to celebrate the end of the war and your new job. But at the end of the dinner, she had taken you to the garden where she often spent time with her mother.

That was where she had proposed to you. You had never been happier, your face covered in tears of joy, and you had accepted while pulling her into a long, passionate kiss.

After your marriage, you settled into the Kiramman family mansion, and soon the topic of children came up. It was something that Caitlyn and you had in common; you had always wanted children.

But the problem was that it is impossible for two women to conceive children, so it was only logical that you turned to adoption.

After a year, you had adopted two six-year-old little girls, adorable twins: Cassandra and Calliope. The name of the first had made Caitlyn smile; she found it ironic that one of her daughters bore the name of her late mother.

It took a little time to adjust, but within three months, you all got used to each other, and since then, your daughters had never left your side.

Cassandra was a bit closer to you, and Calliope to Caitlyn, but they loved you both equally. And since their adoption, your lives had been perfect.

Today, you had planned to spend the day outside with the three of you, but the rain had ruined your plans. Fortunately, you quickly found something to keep you occupied all day.

After dinner, sitting in front of the fireplace, the twins played with dolls under Caitlyn's gentle supervision, who was having fun with them. On your side, you were coming back from the kitchen where you had gone to get something to snack on.

You loved what you saw: your family gathered away from the world’s complications and the traveling noise. You saw Caitlyn soften as she looked at your daughters. You spoke from the doorstep.

-So, you're playing without me?

-Mama!

Cassandra abandoned her doll to run toward you.

-Come, I made you a drawing.

You laughed when she took your hand and pulled you toward Caitlyn and Calliope, then made you sit down before handing you a sheet full of colors. On it, you could see four stick figures, two smaller ones between two larger ones.

-Look, it's you and mom, and this is Callie and me.

-It's very beautiful, sweetie.

You placed the drawing next to you and took her in your arms. Then you turned to Caitlyn and Calliope.

-So, what were you playing before I arrived?

-The heroes of Piltover, Callie is Mel.

-And who are you?

-Mom.

Caitlyn laughed upon hearing that. Knowing that your daughters saw her as a heroine warmed her heart.

You ended up sitting with them until it was time for bed. You had to carry the girls because they could barely keep their eyes open.

Once in their beds, you tucked them in and gave each of them a kiss on the forehead to wish them goodnight and went to bed yourself.

When you joined Caitlyn in your bed, she was in her pajamas, eagerly waiting for you. She also had a hard time staying awake, but she didn’t want to sleep without you. She loved holding you in her arms when she slept; your presence warmed her inside and out.

-It was a good day.

Barely seated beside her, she pulled you into her arms, making you laugh. Then she rested her head on your shoulder.

-Yes, we should do this more often.

-Mmh.

You were about to say something else when you noticed she had fallen asleep. Instead, you turned off the light on your bedside lamp, kissed her on the top of her head, and snuggled up to her with a smile. In a few minutes, you fell asleep too.

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Abu Dhabi GP

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

The paddock in Abu Dhabi was alive with speculation, buzzing with fans, journalists, and team members all eager for a hint about my future. The grand finale of the season always carried a mix of excitement and melancholy, but this year, there was an extra layer of uncertainty surrounding me.

The whispers had been growing louder ever since Lance’s recovery updates started trickling out. Aston Martin had been clear—Lance Stroll was close to returning, his seat waiting for him. And while I had known from the beginning that my position was temporary, the thought of leaving the grid now, after everything, was a weight I couldn’t fully ignore.

Walking through the paddock, I could feel the questions hanging in the air, the lingering glances from reporters and fans. Even the drivers seemed more cautious, their words carefully chosen whenever the topic of next season arose.

Max was one of the first to address it directly. During a quick chat before FP1, he leaned against the Red Bull garage, arms crossed. “So,” he started casually, though his tone betrayed genuine concern, “are you staying quiet on purpose, or do you not know what’s happening yet?”

I gave him a small, tight smile. “A little bit of both,” I admitted. “Nothing’s finalized, and I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up—including my own.”

His brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded. “You deserve a seat. Everyone knows it.”

The sentiment was echoed throughout the weekend. Charles stopped me in the paddock later that day, his usual friendly grin replaced with a more serious expression. “Whatever happens, you’ve proven you belong here,” he said firmly. “No one can take that away from you.”

But the most touching moment came from the fans. During the driver parade, the cheers for me were louder than I’d ever heard. Banners with my name and messages of support filled the grandstands, and one sign in particular caught my eye: “Wherever you go, we follow.”

It was overwhelming, the love and support from people who had seen me at my lowest and celebrated my highest moments.

Back in the Aston Martin motorhome, I sat with my PR team, discussing how to handle the inevitable questions during media duties. They suggested vague answers, emphasizing that nothing was confirmed yet. I nodded along, but deep down, I hated the ambiguity.

When I stepped into my first interview of the day, the question came up almost immediately.

“So, with Lance on the mend, fans are wondering—will we see you on the grid next season?” the journalist asked, their tone curious but careful.

I hesitated, choosing my words cautiously. “Right now, my focus is on finishing this season as strong as I can,” I said. “Beyond that, we’ll see what opportunities come my way. I’ve loved every moment of being part of this incredible sport, and I hope to continue being involved in some capacity.”

It wasn’t the answer they—or I—wanted, but it was the truth.

Later that evening, as I scrolled through social media, I saw countless posts speculating about my future. But among them were messages of hope, support, and belief in me. Fans declaring their unwavering loyalty, drivers posting subtle hints of solidarity.

One post from the official F1 account stood out: a photo of me with the caption, “No matter what the future holds, this season will never forget her name.”

As the weekend in Abu Dhabi carried on, I couldn’t help but feel a quiet excitement bubbling under the surface. After Thursday Media Duties, The contract had finally been signed. While the paddock was busy speculating about my future, the truth was something I was holding close to my chest, savoring the satisfaction of knowing that I would still be on the grid in some capacity next year.

My vague comments during interviews only fueled the rumors. I’d hinted at signing a contract once but kept the details shrouded in mystery. The fans and journalists seemed convinced that I had secured a seat with a different team for 2025. Theories ranged from Williams to Sauber, and I even overheard someone mention Haas. It was almost amusing to watch the speculation spread like wildfire.

After the final practice session, I found myself in a quiet corner of the paddock, scrolling through social media while sipping a bottle of water. The hashtags #WhereWillSheGo and #GridQueen were trending, alongside countless fan theories dissecting every interview I’d given that weekend.

“Are you enjoying the chaos you’re causing?” Lando teased, walking over with his trademark smirk.

I laughed, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean to cause chaos,” I said. “I just... I’m not ready to tell anyone yet.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “So you do have something lined up.”

I gave him a pointed look, a playful smile tugging at my lips. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Fine, keep your secrets,” he said with a chuckle, walking away.

What no one knew was that I had signed a unique deal. Starting in 2026, I would be joining Cadillac when they entered the grid as a new team. It was a dream opportunity, one that aligned with everything I wanted for my career. But instead of taking a year off before their debut, They’d struck an agreement to have me race the 2025 season on loan with VCARB.

The deal was a win-win. VCARB needed a driver who could perform well and help mentor their reserve driver, Isack Hadjar, a young talent brimming with potential. Isack had initially been slated to step in as the team’s driver for 2025, but VCARB wanted him to be fully prepared for the demands of the sport. Their solution? Pair him with someone experienced who could help him grow both on and off the track. And that someone was me. They also really liked the idea that Isack wouldn’t have to join F1 only for major changes to take place the following season, forcing him to relearn everything just as he might have found his style. 

I had to admit, I liked the idea. Isack was promising, and mentoring him while continuing to race felt like the perfect way to stay sharp for 2026. It also meant I wouldn’t have to endure the uncertainty of sitting out an entire year, watching from the sidelines as the grid moved on without me.

By Sunday evening, the whispers had reached their peak. Reporters and fans alike were waiting for an announcement, but I kept my lips sealed. Even my closest friends on the grid were left in the dark. The only person who seemed to suspect anything was Fernando, who had an uncanny ability to read people.

“You’re too calm,” he remarked as we walked through the paddock. “Whatever happens next year, you already know where you’re going, don’t you?”

I smiled, shrugging. “Maybe.”

He gave me a knowing look but didn’t press further.

Free Practice 2 was supposed to be just another session to shake down the car and refine strategy, but this sport has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them. The sun blazed down on the Yas Marina Circuit, and I was just starting to settle into a rhythm, my mind locked on squeezing out every ounce of performance. My engineer, Landon, chimed in on the radio.

"Car looks good. Let’s get a couple of consistent laps here," he said, his voice calm.

I responded with a crisp, “Copy,” and pushed forward, picking up speed as I approached the next lap. The track felt alive beneath me, the vibrations of the car reverberating through my body. But everything changed in a split second.

Ahead, Jack Doohan misjudged the timing of an overtake attempt. I caught the movement in my mirrors as his front tire caught the rear of my car. It was like watching a nightmare unfold in slow motion. My car snapped out of control, the rear spinning violently to the left. An immense sense of deja vu washed over me at this moment. Before I could react further, Jack’s car slammed into my side, t-boning me with a force that jarred every bone in my body.

The impact left no time to breathe or recalibrate. The world spun again, and just as I began to process the collision, Alex Albon’s car collided with my rear. The second hit sent a thunderous jolt through me, and all three of us careened off the track. The barriers loomed closer at a terrifying speed until we slammed into them with a sickening crunch of carbon fiber and metal.

I felt the breath leave my lungs on impact. Pain radiated through my chest and arm, sharp and unforgiving. My ribs protested violently with every gasp of air, and my left arm throbbed with an intensity that made me want to scream. But I didn’t. I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand—getting out.

The cockpit felt like a trap. Jack’s car was wedged into my side, and Alex’s car was pressed against my rear, pinning me in. I tried to move my arm to unclip my harness, but a wave of pain stopped me. I froze, forcing myself to push through it.

Through the haze of pain, I noticed Jack already climbing out of his car. He was moving fast, a look of panic etched on his face as he scrambled toward me. Moments later, Alex was there too, sprinting to help.

“You okay?!” Jack shouted, his voice laced with urgency.

I nodded weakly, though every inch of me screamed in protest. “Yeah... I’m fine,” I croaked, though the lie felt bitter on my tongue.

Alex and Jack worked together to help me climb out. Jack supported my right side as Alex steadied me, their hands firm but careful. I winced as my ribs protested the movement, but I kept quiet, refusing to let them see how much pain I was in.

Once I was clear of the wreckage, I leaned against the barrier for support, taking shallow breaths to avoid aggravating my chest. My vision blurred slightly, but I forced myself to stay upright, to project strength. The medics arrived within moments, but I waved them off.

“I’m okay,” I insisted, brushing off their concerns. “Just a bit shaken.”

Jack’s brows furrowed, and Alex crossed his arms, both clearly unconvinced. “You don’t look okay,” Alex said, his tone skeptical.

“I’ll be fine,” I replied, mustering a weak smile. “Just need a minute.”

They didn’t push further, though their worried glances lingered. The adrenaline coursing through my veins dulled the worst of the pain, and for now, I convinced myself it was nothing more than bruising.

Back in the paddock, I avoided the medical center, slipping away before anyone could insist on a check-up. My tolerance for pain had skyrocketed since the crash in Vegas, and I told myself this was no different. A few bruises, maybe a sore arm—nothing I couldn’t handle.

As I sat in the team’s garage, replaying the incident in my mind, a fresh wave of frustration washed over me. The crash hadn’t just shaken me physically—it felt like a cruel reminder of how fragile everything could be. But I couldn’t dwell on it. For now, I swallowed the pain and prepared to face the rest of the weekend, unaware that the fractures in my ribs and arm were more than just a passing ache.

The team worked tirelessly overnight to get the car back in shape. By the time FP3 rolled around, Jack Doohan and Alex Albon’s cars were repaired and ready to hit the track, but mine wasn’t as lucky. The damage to the chassis and rear suspension from the crash was just a bit too extensive to make it back in time. I’d have to sit this one out and wait for qualifying.

Standing on the pit wall, I clutched my notebook, trying to keep the frustration at bay. FP3 wasn’t a wasted opportunity if I could still learn something. My eyes stayed glued to the screens, watching the other drivers navigate the circuit. Every turn, every braking point, every attempt at a daring overtake—it was all data for me.

"Look at Turn 9," Landon pointed out as he leaned over my shoulder. "That’s where a lot of people are losing time. You might be able to gain a few tenths there if you nail the exit."

I nodded, jotting it down in my notes. My mind was already running through scenarios, imagining different approaches I could take. The crash had shaken me, sure, but it hadn’t robbed me of my drive. If anything, it only fueled my determination.

As FP3 wrapped up, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I wouldn’t let the crash or the whispers of doubt in my mind hold me back. 

Qualifying was a whole new beast. As I climbed back into the cockpit for the first time since the crash, I took a deep breath, trying to block out the lingering aches in my ribs and arm. The adrenaline helped dull the pain, and once the engine roared to life, it was easy to push everything else aside.

Q1 and Q2 were grueling, as I fought to get back into my rhythm. Each lap felt like a battle—not just against the clock but against my own doubts. Landon’s voice over the radio kept me grounded, reminding me of the areas I had identified during FP3.

“Turn 9 looking better,” he said after one lap. “Let’s carry that into the next sector.”

By the time Q3 rolled around, I was in the zone. The car felt like an extension of myself as I pushed it to its limits. I knew the competition was fierce, but I wasn’t about to back down. On my final flying lap, I found that sweet spot—every corner flowing into the next, every braking point executed perfectly.

When I crossed the line, I glanced at the screen. P4. Relief and pride washed over me. After everything, I had clawed my way back to the upper half of the grid.

“P4, solid effort,” Landon said over the radio, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

I allowed myself a small smile, but it didn’t last long. The reminder of the 5-place grid penalty quickly tempered my excitement. The component replacement from the crash had come with a cost, and now I’d be starting P9.

Back in the garage, the team was quick to offer words of encouragement. “You’ll make it up in the race,” one of the mechanics said.

I nodded, masking my frustration. Deep down, I knew they were right. I’d been in worse positions before and clawed my way forward. But this time, it felt personal. P9 wasn’t where I wanted to be, but it wasn’t the end of the world either.

As I reviewed the data from qualifying, my focus shifted back to the task ahead. Tomorrow was a new day, a chance to prove myself all over again. P9 was just a starting point, and I was determined to turn it into something more.

The annual Abu Dhabi drivers' dinner had always been a bittersweet event. It marked the end of the season and carried with it a mix of nostalgia and anticipation. This year, it felt different. I wasn’t just there to celebrate the season but also to say goodbye to this chapter of my career, even if it was temporary.

I arrived fashionably late—not intentionally, but traffic near the circuit had been a nightmare. As I walked into the private dining space, the air buzzed with laughter and the clinking of glasses. The drivers were spread across several tables, some already deep into conversations, others casually lounging and sipping their drinks.

“Over here!” Lando’s voice cut through the chatter, his arm raised in an exaggerated wave. He had saved me a spot, right between himself and Franco.

Sliding into the seat, I was met with Franco’s soft smile on one side and Lando’s mischievous grin on the other. The two had become constants in my life recently, both in their own ways offering me the support I didn’t realize I needed.

“You’re late,” Lando teased, nudging my arm.

“Blame the traffic,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “Or maybe I just wanted to make an entrance.”

“Mission accomplished,” Franco said with a chuckle. “You turned a few heads walking in.”

I glanced around the room, noticing a few curious looks from the other drivers. It wasn’t malicious—more like a mix of admiration and curiosity about what my next steps might be.

Conversation at the table flowed easily, with Lando cracking jokes that had everyone laughing and Franco chiming in with his own dry humor. At one point, the topic turned to the upcoming season.

“So,” George said from across the table, leaning forward with a sly grin, “are you going to tell us where you’re driving next year, or are we supposed to keep guessing?”

A chorus of “Yeah!” and “Come on, spill it!” erupted from the others.

I smirked, swirling the drink in my glass. “You’ll find out soon enough,” I said cryptically. “Let’s just say I’ll be racing.”

“In Formula 1?” Lando raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.

“You’ll see,” I replied, keeping the mystery alive.

As the night went on, the atmosphere grew more relaxed. Drivers wandered between tables, catching up with each other, but Franco and Lando stayed firmly by my side. It was a comfort I didn’t take for granted.

At one point, Franco leaned over, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “You okay?”

I nodded, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. Just taking it all in. It’s weird, knowing this is the last race of the season.”

“You’ll still be part of the family,” he said, his tone reassuring. “No matter where you go, you’ll always have us.”

Lando, catching the tail end of the conversation, chimed in. “Yeah, don’t think you’re getting rid of us that easily. We’ll be keeping tabs on you—and if you’re not performing, we’ll roast you on Twitter.”

I laughed, the sound genuine and light. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

3rd person POV

The lively hum of the drivers' dinner enveloped the private dining room, with conversations weaving between racing stories, friendly banter, and speculation about next season. At one of the more crowded tables, tucked subtly in the middle of it all, an unspoken dynamic was on full display, catching the attention of several drivers who couldn’t help but notice.

Franco and Lando sat on either side of her, their proximity anything but accidental. It was subtle at first—Lando sliding an untouched piece of bruschetta onto her plate under the guise of rearranging his silverware, Franco subtly nudging one of his appetizers closer to her side without drawing attention.

Max Verstappen, seated a few spots away, observed quietly, his sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly as the scene unfolded. He’d noticed this shift for weeks now. The way Franco’s posture softened when she spoke, his usual aloof demeanor melting into something gentler. Or how Lando, typically quick to dominate a conversation with jokes and playful remarks, fell unusually quiet whenever she shared a thought, his attention focused entirely on her words.

“She hasn’t touched her drink yet,” Max muttered to Lewis, who was seated beside him.

Lewis followed Max’s gaze, his brow lifting slightly as he caught Franco leaning closer to quietly offer her a sip of water instead. Lando, on the other hand, was halfway through one of his animated stories but cut himself off mid-sentence when she turned to him with a question.

“They’re obvious, aren’t they?” Lewis mused, a knowing smile tugging at his lips as he watched the younger men.

Max exhaled, his protective streak showing as he leaned back in his chair. “It’s not a bad thing, but... she’s been through enough. If they’re going to step up like that, they better mean it.”

Lewis chuckled softly. “You sound like a father sending his daughter off to prom.”

Max shot him a glare but didn’t deny it. His protectiveness wasn’t something he could help, not after seeing her pull herself back together after everything Henry had taken from her.

Meanwhile, Lewis’s perspective was a bit more nuanced. He saw what Max did—the way Franco and Lando lit up whenever she smiled at them—but he also saw how her confidence was slowly rebuilding, brick by brick. The attention and care the two drivers showed her weren’t one-sided. She seemed more at ease with them by her side, her guarded demeanor softening into something more open, more trusting.

“You think she notices?” Max asked quietly.

Lewis shook his head. “Maybe not yet. She’s got too much on her mind. But when she’s ready, she’ll see it.”

Their conversation paused as the table erupted into laughter, her voice cutting through the noise as she quipped back at something Lando had said. Both younger men grinned, but it was the subtle shift in their body language that caught Max and Lewis’s attention again. Franco leaned just a little closer, his arm resting on the back of her chair protectively. Lando, ever the jokester, seemed ready to defend her against even the most harmless jabs.

“You know,” Lewis said after a beat, his tone quieter now, “it’s not just about them. It’s about her realizing that she’s loved—that no matter what, there are people here for her. Whether it’s them, you, or me.”

Max glanced over, his expression softening just slightly. “She doesn’t have to do this alone. That’s what matters.”

“And she won’t,” Lewis replied firmly. “She just needs to know it.”

As the night wore on, Max and Lewis continued to watch, their silent observations only confirming what they already suspected. Franco and Lando were falling for her—hard. And while Max’s instinct was to shield her from anything that could hurt her further, Lewis’s approach was more grounded.

At one point, Lewis caught her glancing over, her expression a mix of gratitude and confusion as she seemed to pick up on the subtle gestures from the two drivers flanking her. He gave her a small, reassuring nod, silently promising her that she’d figure it out in her own time.

By the end of the evening, as the drivers began to disperse, Max caught her on her way out. “Hey,” he said, stopping her with a hand on her shoulder. His voice was steady, the kind of unwavering tone that made you listen. “You know I’m always here, right? You don’t even have to ask.”

She smiled softly, nodding. “Thanks, Max.”

Lewis, standing nearby, added with a gentle smile, “And if you ever need to talk, really talk, I’m here too. No pressure, no judgment. Just me.”

Her smile widened slightly as she looked between the two of them. “I know. And I appreciate it—both of you.”

As she walked away, flanked once again by Franco and Lando, Lewis glanced at Max. “She’s going to be okay,” he said confidently.

Max nodded, his gaze fixed on her retreating figure. “Yeah, she will. And if she’s not, we’ll make sure she gets there.”

[earthchica]

You Are My Joy

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you and Terry celebrate your son's 1st birthday and go on the journey of watching him grow from toddlerhood to preschool. The talks of another baby cause some tension.

warnings: FLUFF, daddy/mama, dilf! terry, milestones, birthdays, mention of baby talk, time skips, domestic life, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, baby girl & more ] words: 5k

note: hiii, we're back with this story. Please enjoy, but there may be some errors.

sequel to { funny how time flies } mini-series masterlist chapter one { everything I ever wanted } chapter two { make it right }

It was a bright Saturday afternoon, and the house was excitedly buzzing. Balloons in shades of red and blue floated lazily from the ceiling while a giant Elmo banner proudly declared.

"Happy 1st Birthday, Elijah!" You glanced around the living room, marveling how Terry and you had transformed the space into a mini Sesame Street wonderland.

Terry was in charge of the snacks, and he had pulled out all the stops.

“I got these cookies shaped like Elmo’s face, and trust me, they’re gonna be the show star!” he proclaimed, gesturing dramatically as if announcing the headliner at a concert.

You chuckled; he always knew how to bring the excitement. The doorbell rang, and without missing a beat, Terry darted to answer it.

He swung open the door to reveal his family—his dad and mom, his siblings, and Auntie Marisa, who was already sporting an Elmo t-shirt.

“Hey…family. Y’all ready to Celebrate Elijah?” Terry shouted, his voice booming with infectious enthusiasm.

Auntie Marisa rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back a smile. "Oh….child, it’s a 1-year-old’s birthday party, not a concert!"

“Look at this Elmo cake!” You chimed in, bringing out the showstopper. It was a beautifully decorated cake with Elmo’s big, friendly face on top.

Your mom, who was holding Elijah, the unofficial family baker, beamed with pride. "That's so cute!"

“Ooh honey, that cake looks sweeter than Terry’s dance moves!” Auntie Marisa teased, making everyone burst into laughter.

“Hey now, my dance moves are classic! Just wait until the ‘Baby Shark’ song comes on! I’m about to hit y’all with the moves you didn’t know you needed to see,” Terry shot back, throwing a playful smile at Elijah, who giggled at his daddy.

As the guests settled in, you noticed your mom trying to balance Elijah on her knee.

“Oh, look! Elmo loves little kids just like you!” she exclaimed, pointing toward the TV where an Elmo special was playing.

Elijah’s eyes went wide; he was utterly entranced, babbling in his baby language as the cheerful music filled the room.

“Is it just me, or does he look like Elmo right now?” You joked as he wiggled in my mom’s lap.

Terry leaned in closer, “He does! All we need is a red onesie, and we have an Elmo right here!”

“Let’s not go that far; I’m not ready to be overwhelmed by my son’s cuteness!” You laughed, shaking your head.

As the party continued, it was time for the gifts. Family circled up, and you and Terry started pulling out brightly wrapped presents.

“Let’s see what we got here!” Terry announced, opening the first gift.

“Elmo plushies? I see we’re all feeling the theme!”

Terry's brother said, “At this rate, Elijah's gonna be the coolest kid on the block like he’s the mayor of Sesame Street!”

The laughter flowed endlessly as Terry attempted to reenact Elmo's laugh.

“Ahh, ha ha ha! You gotta give it your all!” Auntie Marisa exclaimed, her laughter filling the room as he clumsily tried to mimic Elmo.

“Can’t forget, 1 year means we gotta show off those baby dance skills! Come on, Elijah!” Terry said, lifting him into the air while doing a little shimmy.

Elijah laughed—whether he knew what was happening or just enjoyed being twirled around, both of you never knew.

The party wrapped up with cake, and everyone gathered for a slice.

“Elijah, this is your special day! Just remember, you gotta share this sugar with your fam!” Your dad said while sneaking a second slice for himself.

“Yeah, and if you’re anything like your dad, you’ll miss out on cake because you can’t stop dancing!” You joked, nudging Terry, who pretended to be offended.

As the sun began to set and the laughter echoed through your house, you couldn’t help but feel incredible gratitude.

Watching both of your families come together, surrounded by love and joy, made Elijah’s first birthday a day to remember—a beautiful celebration fueled by laughter, smiles, and, of course, a lot of Elmo!

-

Weeks later, the memory of Elijah’s birthday still lingered like the faint scent of vanilla frosting. The days had stretched into a rhythm of baby giggles, diaper changes, and late-night cuddles, but today was different.

Today, something extraordinary was unfolding right before your eyes. You and Terry were lounging on the couch, sipping coffee and discussing the latest episode of a reality TV show you both had reluctantly gotten hooked on.

The room was bathed in soft morning light, and Elijah was sitting on the floor, surrounded by his favorite toys—a mismatched collection of colorful blocks, a squeaky rubber duck, and, of course, his beloved Elmo plushie.

“Babe, did you see how she came for him at the reunion?” Terry said, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Shit, he had it coming though.”

You chuckled, setting your mug down on the coffee table. “Oh, he definitely did. But let’s not act like she didn’t bring her own drama to the table. Chile, everybody in that room was messy.”

Terry grinned, leaning back against the cushions. “True, true. But messiness makes for good TV. I can’t wait for next season.”

Before you could respond, a sudden movement caught your attention.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Elijah wobble to his feet, using the edge of the coffee table as support. His chubby little hands gripped the wood tightly as he steadied himself.

“Oh my God, Terry, look!” you whispered, your voice trembling with excitement.

Terry turned his head, his eyes widening as he saw Elijah standing there, his tiny body swaying like a reed in the breeze. “No way… is he about to—?”

Before Terry could finish, Elijah let go of the table. It seemed like he might topple over for a moment, but then he took a step—a wobbly, uncertain step, but a step nonetheless.

His little face lit up with determination and surprise as he shuffled forward, his arms outstretched for balance.

“Oh my God!” you gasped, clapping your hands together. “He’s walking! He’s walking!”

Terry was on his feet now, crouching down a few feet away from Elijah. “Come on, little man! You got this! Walk to Daddy!”

Elijah giggled, his drool-dampened lips curling into a wide grin as he took another step.

Then another. And another. Each one was shaky like he was navigating a tightrope, but he kept going, his tiny sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor.

“Look at him go!” you said, your voice rising with each step. “Terry, he’s doing it! Look at our baby; he’s really doing it!”

Terry’s face was lit up with pure pride; his hands outstretched as if to catch Elijah if he stumbled and encourage him forward.

“That’s right, lil man! You are a whole walker now! That’s my son!”

Elijah wobbled again, his little legs trembling slightly, but he pressed on, his focus laser-sharp. It was like the whole world had narrowed to this moment—this tiny human taking his first steps into a bigger world.

“Come on, baby boy,” you cooed softly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “You got this. Come to Mama.”

Elijah’s face scrunched up in concentration, his chubby cheeks puffing out as he took one more determined step. And then another. And then—he was there, tumbling into Terry’s arms with a squeal of delight.

“Aye! That’s my boy!” Terry whooped, scooping Elijah up and spinning him around in the air. Elijah’s laughter filled the room, pure and unfiltered, like little bells ringing out a victory song.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe it,” you said, wiping at your eyes as you stood up, your heart swelling with pride. “Our baby just walked! Like, for real walked!”

“Man, look at him,” Terry said, putting Elijah down and letting him walk again, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s going to be running before we know it,” Terry said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“We really need to baby-proof the house. And I mean really baby-proof it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, your heart swelling as you watched Elijah take brave little steps toward you. “But right now, let him enjoy this. This is amazing!”

With each tentative step he took, your hearts soared. At that moment, nothing else mattered—just the pure joy of watching your baby discover his world.

Elijah, giggling, managed to stumble forward and grasp your leg for support. You scooped him up, showering him with kisses as Terry joined in, his laughter ringing through the room.

“You did it, Eli! You walked!” Terry said, beaming with pride. “Before we know it, you’ll be running off on adventures of your own. Just promise us you’ll always come back to us, okay?”

“Yes, promise,” you added, your heart full.

-

Terrible Twos, “Mama! Dada! Wake up!” Elijah chirped, his voice high-pitched and bubbling with a joy that seemed to radiate through the room.

Just turned two years old, he reveled in his newfound independence, a charming phase that primarily involved an exaggerated refusal to wear pants.

His curly afro hair stuck out every which way, and his hazel eyes were lit for the day's excitement ahead.

Terry groaned, cocooned in the sheets, pulling the covers over his head as if they could shield him from the cuteness assault.

“I can’t handle this level of cuteness before coffee,” he mumbled through the fabric, his voice muffled but teasing.

“But he’s too cute to ignore!” you playfully countered, stretching your arms and feeling the residual warmth of the covers slip away as you bounced out of bed like a coiled spring released.

Elijah spotted you and emitted a delighted squeal, arms up as if asking to be picked up.

Watching Terry lumber out of bed, disheveled and squinting against the morning light, you couldn’t suppress a laugh.

“You look like a sexy zombie. Add some sunlight and breakfast, and you might wake up!”

“Ha! Very funny, you know I lose a little melanin in the wintertime, girl,” he retorted, rolling his eyes but grinning as he ruffled Elijah's hair.

Deciding that a family breakfast was required to kickstart your energy-filled day, you entered the kitchen. Elijah was launching a mini treasure hunt, rummaging through cabinets with glee.

“Terry, do you think he’ll sit still long enough to eat?” you joked, pouring a glass of bright orange juice into a sippy cup. With a swift, unexpected move, Elijah flung a cereal box off the table.

“Not a chance,” Terry replied, reflexively catching the cereal box mid-air with one hand, a gesture that almost seemed rehearsed.

“Ever since he started walking, he’s got too much hustle in those little legs. I swear, he’s part rabbit!” you mused, smiling as Elijah bounced around the kitchen.

His infectious smile lit up the room while he tried to keep breakfast from morphing into a chaotic battlefield.

Elijah darted past, squealing, “Mama! Dada! Race me!”

“Oh boy, here we go!” you said excitedly, apprehensive.

“Ready, set, go!” Terry shouted, and just like that, the three of you were caught in an impromptu race that had you all dashing through the kitchen, navigating around furniture, and back to your seats, laughter echoing through the house.

"I won…!" Elijah cackled, throwing his arms up in gleeful triumph, his little face glowing with pride.

“You know he’s gonna be a little athlete,” Terry grinned, already pouring himself a hefty cup of coffee. “Like a mini Usain Bolt!”

“Or a high-speed whirlwind!” you added, shaking your head and smiling as you glanced at Elijah. “But either way, we need to get him to eat something today.”

While Terry distractingly wrestled Elijah into his little chair, you hurriedly prepared a plate of scrambled eggs and colorful fruit.

The calm was short-lived; in an instant, Elijah’s tiny fist shot out with surprising strength, flipping the plate off the table with theatrical flair, and it clattered to the floor.

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the spectacle. “Yooo! Who taught you to do that?” you exclaimed, covering your mouth in delight, unable to believe the sheer drama of the moment.

Elijah’s giggles filled the room, his laughter so contagious that it drew chuckles from Terry, who was wiping a tear from his eye.

“Not me! Although that was quite impressive! He got his daddy’s strength,” Terry joked, puffing out his chest in exaggerated pride.

“Okay, daddy’s strength! But who’s gonna clean this mess up?” you shot back, crossing your arms with a playful smirk.

“Looks like it’s all on me, huh?” Terry responded with a mock sigh, grabbing a towel and kneeling to collect the food remnants with exaggerated care, making a show of it for Elijah’s entertainment.

“It’s a good thing I’ve been working on my Olympic cleaning skills,” Terry joked, pretending to lift invisible weights as he gathered the shattered pieces.

“Hey, while you’re down there giving the floor a full spa treatment, I’m gonna try to get this little munchkin to eat something,” you said, turning back to Elijah, who was busy inspecting his dad's cleanup efforts with curious, wide eyes.

“Elijah, baby, how about we eat some food? You’ve got eggs and fruit waiting for you!” you said in your sweetest, motherly tone.

“Nooo!” Elijah declared resolutely, shaking his head with the fervor only a toddler could muster.

You rolled your eyes but felt a smirk creeping onto your face. “What if we make it a game? You know how they say superheroes eat fruit for strength?”

His eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Superheroes?”

“Yep! You wanna be a superhero, right?” you asked encouragingly.

“Uh-huh!” Elijah nodded enthusiastically, clearly intrigued.

“Alright then! Superheroes gotta eat their super fuel!” you held up a bright yellow banana-like magic. “Banana for super strength! And how about some eggs for super speed?”

Terry chuckled as he stood, towel in hand, watching your antics with genuine admiration. “Man, you’re good at this! If only I could distract him like that when it’s my turn to get him to eat.”

“Just wait ‘til I whip out the secret weapon—yogurt!” you declared, your motherly instincts fully engaged. You carefully set another plate in front of Elijah and kept your gaze pinned on him like a hawk, ready for any sign of resistance.

Your tactic proved fruitful; with some coaxing and playful encouragement, you finally got Elijah to eat breakfast. As he took a bite, his eyes widened in wonder, as if he had just discovered a culinary treasure.

“Mmmm!” he exclaimed, savoring the taste.

“Yes, is it good? That’s right! Now, a couple more bites, and then we can explore!” you encouraged, unable to contain your delight as he surprisingly took a bite of the egg.

“Look at you go!” Terry exclaimed, pride swelling in his voice as he flopped back down on a chair beside you. “Our little champ is besting his breakfast like a true athlete!”

“Just wait ‘til he runs circles around the park,” you replied, watching Elijah chew thoughtfully with a slight grin.

“Speaking of the park, are we ready to give this little one a walking tour?”

“Only if you promise to keep up with him. You know he’ll take off like a rocket,” you replied, both of you chuckling as you readied yourselves for what the day had in store.

-

“Pfft, please! I got him!” Terry scoffed, flexing his arm like he was preparing for some epic showdown. “I’m the king of parenting in this household!”

Elijah finished his breakfast, clapping his hands in triumph. “Yay!!”

With that, the exit was on the horizon. You all bundled up, and the world outside awaited. The sun shone brightly as you stepped outside, and fresh air welcomed you like an old friend.

“Come on, buddy! Let’s show the world who the real champion is!” Terry called as Elijah took off, running down the driveway without a glance back.

“Wait up, Speed Racer!” You laughed, but you loved watching him explore. Elijah darted towards the park, his little legs pumping with pure joy.

As you reached the park, Terry caught up to him, hoisting him into his arms.

“Okay, champ! What’s our plan? Do we play tag, chase squirrels, or climb to the top of Mount Mama and Dada?”

Elijah squealed, wiggling in excitement. “TAG!”

“Alright then, you can’t catch me!” Terry shouted, leading the charge more profoundly into the park.

You shook your head, grinning at the sight of your two favorite people tearing through the grass, laughter trailing behind them. It was a morning full of chaos, laughter, and more love than you ever asked for.

Fast-forward to the afternoon, and we were knee-deep in the glorious jumble of diaper-changing time. Elijah had developed a habit of wiggling like a fish during this process.

“Alright, little man, let's get you sorted out!” you said, trying to hold him still.

“No diaper! Noooooo!” Elijah squealed, laughter echoing off the walls.

“See? This is why we can’t have nice things,” Terry joked, trying to wrangle Elijah’s squirming limbs. You both exchanged a glance, a mix of exasperation and delight.

“We can get it done; just follow me!” you said, and you broke into a silly song about changing diapers, which made Elijah giggle uncontrollably.

“Just when I thought parenting couldn’t get any more…interesting, we need to potty training him,” Terry quipped.

After the successful change, Terry stood up and looked at the clock.

“Alright, little one, time for your beauty sleep. Or should I say beauty naps? Your cuteness needs to get recharged,” he said, lifting Elijah into his arms.

“Good luck getting him down! I’ve got faith in you,” you called after him, watching as Terry gently rocked him back and forth, whispers of “time to sleep, my little athlete” pouring from his lips.

Once the door closed behind them, you sank onto the couch, feeling a wave of relaxation wash over you. You grabbed the remote, flicked on your favorite show, and let the noise wash over you like a warm blanket.

Not long after, Terry returned, catching you in blissful tranquility. He leaned against the doorframe with a teasing grin, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Look at you, lounging like a goddess. Did I mention how beautiful you look today?”

“Oh really? I’m just in sweats and an old tee?” you shot back with a smirk, stretching your arms above your head.

“Baby, please! You could be in a potato sack, and you’d still be finest as hell in the room,” Terry replied, walking over and plopping down onto the couch beside you.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You keep talking like that, and I might just believe you!”

Terry leaned in a little closer, a playful glint in his eye. “I’m dead serious. You light up my whole day, even when I'm half asleep.”

“Okay, okay, Mr. Richmond,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “What’s on your agenda? Trying to get some kitty while our son's napping?”

“Maybe, never stopped us before,” he said, walking over to you. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. “But first, how about we take advantage of this rare silence? I’ve got a few ideas.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Oh? Do tell.”

Before you could react, Terry’s hands were on your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You burst into laughter, squirming to escape his grasp.

“Terry! Stop!” you gasped between giggles, trying to push him away, but he was relentless.

“Nope! You’re mine now!” he declared, his laughter mingling with yours. The two of you tumbled off the couch in a heap, still laughing uncontrollably.

Finally, he relented, collapsing onto the floor beside you, breathless and grinning like an idiot.

“You’re terrible,” you said, swatting his arm lightly. “What if Elijah had woken up?”

“He’s out cold,” Terry replied confidently. “Besides, I needed to remind you who the fun parent is here.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the fun one. But I’m the one who negotiates for him to eat his breakfast,” you shot back, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Terry laughed, shaking his head. "True, You're mama bear, I’ll give you that.” He stretched out on the floor, his arm brushing against yours.

“And you’re amazing. I don’t know how you do it.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through you at his words. “We do it. Together. Team Richmond, remember?”

“Team Richmond,” he echoed, his voice soft. He turned his head to look at you, his expression serious momentarily.

“I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. I love you, baby, so much.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat but swallowed it, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Me neither, Terry. I love you too.”

For a moment, you just lay there, the silence between you comfortable and familiar. Then, Terry’s mischievous grin returned.

“Alright, let’s see if we can take a quick nap before the little man wakes up.”

You chuckled, letting him pull you to your feet. “Go ahead; I’m gonna catch up on my favorite show.”

Terry smirked, grabbed a blanket, and came to lay his head in your lap. "Suit yourself," he teased with a smile before getting comfortable and closing his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as you began caressing his hair. "Yeah, yeah, enjoy your nap."

As Terry’s breathing evened out, you turned your attention back to the TV, though your mind kept wandering.

At this moment, you wouldn’t trade for anything. The laughter, the chaos, and the love all felt like the perfect little life you’d built together.

-

Preschooler, Before you and Terry knew it, Elijah was five years old and about to start preschool. Where did the time go? One minute, you and Terry were chasing him around to make him eat his breakfast, and he grew since then.

“Okay, what if he doesn’t make any friends? This is a huge deal!” You fretted, stuffing crayons into the bag.

“Sweetheart, he’s a sweet kid. I think he'll do fine!” Terry reassured, peeking at Elijah.

“Yeah, but what if he gets overwhelmed? Or worse, what if he gets bullied?” You asked, imagining the possibilities.

Terry chuckled, “I’m not worried about him being bullied or anything like that. We've taught him how to defend himself.”

"Look, Mama, Look, Daddy!" Nerves fading, both of you turned back to him, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that the two of you had a little superhero astronaut in your hands.

Elijah was trying to turn the living room into his spaceship. The cushions were scattered everywhere, and he was wearing a cardboard box on his head.

"I’m takin’ off!" Elijah shouted arms stretched wide, running at full speed towards the wall.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Eli, be careful. I don't want you to crash into the wall! No time to patch up no spaceship!"

Terry chuckled, adding, "If he’s anything like you, he isn't ever flyin’ straight. Need a pilot’s license to get in that box!"

"Ha! Look who's talkin’! You were the one who thought you could parallel park that big ole SUV in a tiny spot last week!"

"Hey, I got that baby in there; it just took a couple of tries!" Terry replied with a laugh, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"But back to Eli," you said as Elijah started reenacting what looked like a dramatic countdown. "We need to get him ready for preschool. How do you feel about all this, babe?"

Terry sighed, “I’m excited but low-key sad. Our baby boy ain’t no baby no more.”

“Tell me about it! Next thing you know, you blink, he's in college, and he gonna be off dating and all that!”

Terry put on his best dramatic voice, “I can already see him comin’ home talkin’ ‘bout, ‘Mama, I met this girl…’”

“Wait, what? Nah, don’t even play like that ‘fore I gotta put him in bubble wrap!” You joked, rolling your eyes.

Elijah’s spaceship—ahem, box—finally reached its destination against the couch, and he let out a triumphant “We landed on Mars!” before collapsing into giggles.

You and Terry exchanged a look, both of you thinking the same thing: this kid would run y’all ragged, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Alright, Captain Eli,” you said, scooping and spinning him around. “Time to fuel up the spaceship crew. What’s for dinner?”

“Chicken nuggets!” Elijah shouted as if it were the most obvious answer in the universe.

Terry smirked, “Chicken nuggets? Again? Eli, you gonna turn into a nugget at this rate.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” Elijah asked innocently, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Nothin’, baby,” you said, caressing his fade waves. “But how about we mix it up tonight? Maybe some regular chicken nuggets and some mac and cheese to go with it?”

Elijah considered this for a moment, then nodded solemnly. “Okay, Mommy, but only if it’s the kind with the squiggly noodles.”

“Squiggly noodles it is,” Terry said, heading toward the kitchen. You followed Terry into the kitchen, still carrying Elijah like your little koala bear.

"Alright, team," you announced, setting him down on the counter.

"Let’s get this dinner movin’. Eli, you’re on cheese duty. Terry, you handle the noodles. And I’ll season the chicken nuggets so they don’t taste like they came straight outta the freezer."

Elijah clapped his hands excitedly. "I’m gonna make the cheesiest mac and cheese ever! It’s gonna be so cheesy, it’s gonna need a passport to cross state lines!"

Terry burst out laughing. "Where he get that from? That ain’t my genes!"

"Please," you shot back, grabbing the seasoning shaker. "You, the one who said the spaghetti last week was so saucy, it needed a chaperone. Y’all two got jokes for days."

As you all worked together in the kitchen, the banter kept flowing. Terry started doing his best cooking show host impression, holding a wooden spoon like a microphone.

"And here we have Chef Elijah, master of the cheese shredder—do not underestimate his power! Watch closely as he transforms this block of cheddar into a cloud of deliciousness!"

Elijah giggled uncontrollably, holding the cheese grater like a prized artifact.

“And now, for the grand finale!” he announced, dramatically sprinkling cheese over the pot of noodles like he was casting a magic spell.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched them. “Y’all better not be messin’ up my kitchen,” you warned, though your grin gave you away.

“I swear if I find cheese in places it ain’t supposed to be…”

“Cheese is supposed to be everywhere!” Elijah declared, still giggling.

“It’s the law of the universe!”

“The law of the universe, huh?” Terry said, raising an eyebrow. “Well, when you grow up and become president, you can make that official.”

Dinner was ready, and you sat at the table, digging into your feast. Elijah insisted on narrating every bite of his chicken nuggets like a food critic.

“Hmm, this one has a crispy exterior with a tender interior—10 out of 10! And this mac and cheese? A symphony of squiggles and cheese—perfection!” Elijah giggled.

“You watchin’ too much Food Network,” Terry teased, shaking his head.

After dinner, you all settled on the couch for movie night. Elijah was practically bouncing with excitement as you scrolled through the options.

“Ooh, what about this one?” Elijah said, pointing to a colorful animated movie about a talking dog. “He looks funny!”

“Alright, funny dog it is,” you agreed, hitting play and leaning back on the couch. Terry grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it over all three of you, creating a cozy family cocoon.

Halfway through the movie, Elijah’s giggles slowed down, and his head drooped. When the dog in the movie had his big hero moment, Elijah was utterly out, snoring softly like a little bear cub.

You glanced over at Terry and nodded toward Elijah. “Guess somebody’s had enough fun for one night.”

Terry chuckled softly. “Man, he fought sleep hard tonight.”

“He always does,” you whispered back, carefully sliding out from under the blanket so you wouldn’t wake him. “I’ll get him ready for bed.”

But just as you reached over to pick him up, Elijah stirred slightly and mumbled, “No… I want Daddy to do it.”

You froze for a second, then smiled. “Alright, baby. Daddy’s got you.”

Terry’s face lit up like he won the lottery. He scooped Elijah up gently, cradling him like the most precious treasure in the world.

“Alright, little man, let’s get you to bed,” Terry whispered, his voice soft as a lullaby.

As they headed down the hallway, Elijah mumbled sleepily, “Daddy, can I have a baby sister or brother? I want someone to play with.”

Terry’s steps faltered momentarily, his heart doing a little flip-flop in his chest. He glanced down at Elijah’s sleepy face, those big hazel eyes barely open but still filled with hope.

“You wanna play with a baby?” Terry asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Yeah,” Elijah murmured, his head resting against Terry’s shoulder.

“I’d teach ‘em how to shred cheese and everything.”

Terry laughed softly, his chest vibrating against Elijah’s tiny body.

“Sounds like you got it all figured out, huh?”

“Mhm,” Elijah replied, already drifting back to sleep. The little boy was out cold again when Terry reached Elijah's room. Terry laid him down gently on the bed and pulled the covers to his chin.

Terry sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, watching Elijah’s chest rise and fall in the soft rhythm of sleep. The stuffed dinosaur Elijah insisted on sleeping with every night was tucked under his arm.

He caressed Elijah’s forehead, his heart feeling so full it might burst. “Man, what am I gonna do with you?” Terry whispered to himself, shaking his head with a smile.

Terry stood quietly and turned off the bedside lamp, leaving the room bathed in the moon's soft glow through the window. Back in the living room, you were tidying up the remnants of movie night.

Popcorn kernels scattered on the couch, Elijah’s juice tipped over on the coffee table, and the blanket in a crumpled heap on the floor.

You were humming softly to yourself when Terry walked back in.

“He’s out cold,” Terry said, plopping down on the couch beside you.

“Knocked out.” He added, and you laughed, handing him a pretzel you’d just found under the cushion.

“Here, snack for your troubles.” you joked, and Terry took it with a mock bow.

“Much obliged.” He leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling momentarily before turning to you.

“So….,” Terry started, scratching the back of his neck like he always did when he was about to say something that made him nervous.

“Elijah hit me with a little somethin’ on the way to bed.”

You raised an eyebrow, tossing another pretzel into your mouth. “Oh yeah? What’d he say this time? He wanna be an astronaut, superhero chef who only cooks mac and cheese in zero gravity?”

Terry chuckled but shook his head. “Nah, nah. It was… different this time.” He paused, biting his lip like he was trying to figure out how to phrase it.

“He asked if he could have a baby sister or brother.”

You froze mid-reach for another pretzel, your hand hovering over the bowl. “Wait, what?”

Terry nodded, his expression a mix of amusement and mild panic.

“Yeah. Said he wanted someone to play with. Even said he’d teach ‘em how to shred cheese.”

You burst out laughing, nearly knocking the bowl off the coffee table. “Shred cheese? That’s his selling point? That’s what he led with?”

Terry shrugged, grinning despite himself. “Hey, don’t knock it. The boy’s got vision.”

You leaned back against the couch, shaking your head with a smile, though your heart was doing somersaults.

“Another baby, huh?” you said softly, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers written on it. “That’s… a big ask.”

Terry nodded, his grin fading into something more thoughtful.

“Yeah, it is. But… I mean, he’s not wrong. It’d be nice for him to have someone to grow up with. Someone to share all his cheese-related wisdom with.”

You snorted, elbowing him lightly. “You’re really leaning into this cheese thing, huh?”

“Hey, it’s a cornerstone of our family culture,” Terry replied, mock-serious. “But seriously… what do you think?”

You sighed, tucking your legs under you and turning to face him.

“I don’t know, Terry. It’s not like we haven’t talked about it before. We always said maybe someday, but… is someday now? Are we ready for another baby?”

Terry reached over and took your hand, his thumb tracing circles on the back of it.

“We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?” he said, his voice soft but steady.

“Elijah wasn’t exactly planned, and look at him. He’s the best thing that ever happened to us.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “True. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard....it still is but Late nights, diaper changes, the endless questions about why the sky is blue… Can we do it all over again?”

Terry leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours. “We can. Together. And this time, we’d have Elijah to help. He’d be the best big brother. Plus, he’s already got the cheese-shredding tutorial ready to go.”

You laughed, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room. “Oh my goodness...you really won’t let that go, will you?”

“Never,” Terry said with a grin. “But seriously… I think we could do it. I think we should at least talk about it. Not because Elijah asked, but because… maybe it’s what we want too.”

You sat there for a moment, letting his words sink in. The idea of another baby—a tiny person who would look like Terry, you, or even Elijah—was thrilling and terrifying.

“Can I have a few days to think about it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I need to wrap my head around it.”

“Of course, baby” Terry said, squeezing your hand again. “Take all the time you need. It’s not like we’re deciding tonight. Just… think about it, yeah?”

You nodded, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. The two of you sat there in comfortable silence. The minutes stretched on, and eventually, Terry let out a long yawn.

“Alright,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms over his head.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.”

You chuckled, standing up and gathering the last stray popcorn into your hand. “Yeah, and you know he’s going to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

Terry groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. “Why do kids have so much energy? Like, where does it come from?”

“The cheese,” you joked, tossing the popcorn into the trash. “It’s the secret fuel.”

Terry laughed, shaking his head. “You’re probably right. Alright, let’s go.” The two of you made your way to the bedroom.

The house was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards. As you climbed into bed, Terry turned to you, his expression soft in the dim light.

“Whatever we decide,” he said, his voice low and steady, “we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

You smiled, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “Yeah, we do. Goodnight, Terry.”

“Goodnight, baby,” Terry replied, his voice heavy with sleep. He turned off the lamp on his nightstand, plunging the room into darkness.

You lay there for a moment, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, your mind still swirling with thoughts of another baby.

TAGS

@saturnville @kisssssssssssss @grlsbstshot @nayaesworld @onherereading @blyffe @duhitzkay380

@milktert @sefiya0x @urgirlygoddess @honeytoffee @cocooned-butterfly

@vivaalenaa @m1sk1n3 @blackpinup22 @writingsbytee

@peachbuttetfly @ayeeeitsmiracle @fakxmbj

[accio-victuuri]

my thoughts on xz’s spring festival debut and loch 📝

“Every role leaves something in me or takes something away from me. The character of Guo Jing is very powerful. His perseverance and persistence subtly gave me a lot of support and faith later on.” - xiao zhan

just a few disclaimers before i start:

1. i’m a cpf. this is a cpf blog but i also identify as xz and wyb’s career fan. meaning i care about the impact of their works to the general public. i’m tagging this post with xiao zhan on it cause it’s mainly about him, but if you already hate cpfs, then save yourself the trouble and scroll along. if you still read this and wanna say something, do it on your own blog.

2. this is not the place to compare xz and wyb’s spring festival bo debuts. nor is this a place for conspiracies.

3. i haven’t watched loch. i am not well versed in the whole lore behind it.

okay, now i can start 😅😅😅

As soon as XZ was announced to play the role of Guo Jing in Tsui Hark’s new movie — we all knew that it’s a great opportunity and at the same time, a huge responsibility. Legend of The Condor Heroes is a beloved story/franchise with multiple remakes so this movie had to bring something fresh to the audience. Tsui Hark is a celebrated director, but it’s not a guarantee of excellent results. I’m personally not familiar with his works ( yep, cause i’m uncultured lol ) so at the time i was okay, cool. However, i trusted the people both fans and the public who had mostly good things to say.

It was also pretty obvious that this movie will be screened during Spring Festival. It’s a no brainer. A big IP and movie like this should be released during the biggest box office day in China.

You also have Xiao Zhan. The god of wealth. A traffic star who brings in the money and is a talented Actor. He also has a solid and dedicated fanbase.

However, to those of us who are familiar with how the SF box-office works, fans alone cannot sustain it. The key is to capture the General public’s favor to grow the numbers and to get more cinemas to screen your Movie during the SF holiday. They call it “word of mouth” — when people give good reviews, more people will be encouraged to give it a try. If you are someone on SF holiday, you can probably watch 1-2 ( 3 at most possibly ) movies from the lineup. So it’s critical that LOCH will come up as something you would wanna watch based on what you read online ( or offline ) even if it’s not your 1st choice. I was hoping LOCH fans will come in, but i was also afraid cause they will be the most critical. They know the source material, they possibly watched all the iterations, so they will be the toughest to please.

The showing came later than we anticipated but it was fine. Editing and all the special effects always take up most of the time anyway. ✨

Weeks before the holiday, Nezha 2 announced it was gonna join the Spring Festival line up. This alone was a sure bet that this movie was gonna dominate the Box Office. no question. It’s a popular character and a family-friendly film. A first choice kind of movie if you will. There’s also Fengshen Part II with it’s own set of fans and considering how big the first movie earned, you would think they were gonna come back for Part II.

LOCH still prevailed tho, The pre-sale numbers dominated 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

in reality, these are mostly fans. which is not a bad thing at all. having LOCH at the top of the pre sales creates a good buzz around it. if you are someone thinking of what to watch, and don’t know much about the line up, it would be good to pick the most anticipated film 🫶🏼

(this photo does not represent the final numbers before opening)

I wanna add too that this year’s promotion for SF movies is next level. They have really done well in making sure that the public knows what movies are out there for them to watch.

The first day for a movie like LOCH with a big pre-sale will show a small rise because people who wanna see it on Day 1 mostly have bought it already. It was still steady tho, It broke 14 box office records which is mostly for the martial arts genre ✨

There are also mostly positive reviews about XZ’s performance like this one ( i will share more on my blog as they come ) and critics. Which is fine. we know it’s not gonna be all praises anyway. One review that went high up on HS was from Nanfeng daily, which is more of a discussion on the story’s flaws. I won’t share it here anymore, but the article was talking about the weak plot and how the two leads having basically no chemistry. I also looked into this other blogger ( who is pretty consistent with reviews and not just one who popped up lately ) one which I think fairly described the shortcomings —-

The film adapted the content of chapters 34-40 of the original novel. It is a story about the integration of the martial arts world into the post-war world, involving the love line of Guo Jing and Huang Rong + the national war line + the martial arts line. The main part of the martial arts line is the previous situation before the 34th chapter, which is the foreshadowing of love and war. It can't be less, nor more. The question that needs to be considered here is how to explain so many martial arts stories before, flashbacks? Arrange information in the lines? Connect events and insert back? Or is there a more clever method?

As a result, The Legend of the Condor Heroes didn't think so much, and just went straight to the "PPT". The first hour was a long, fragmented and incomplete account of the story, and the two leading actors took turns to read the narration to tell the previous story. This is not called The Legend of the Condor Heroes, but "Reading most of The Legend of the Condor Heroes in x minutes".

This is not enough. I don't know if Tsui Hark is taking revenge on someone. It's already a PPT, and the two protagonists are reading letters to each other in the air, with narration superimposed on narration. The audience is like a class in the first half.

AGAIN. I haven’t watched the movie but I think, i get where this going. It seems to me that the screenwriter should have done better. Xiao Zhan can only do so much hard work and bring in talent, but if the story is all over the place, it’s gonna be hard to market to a random viewer.

As of writing, LOCH is on HS and the topic is about the supposed deleted scenes. Getting rid of those didn’t help the flow of the story obviously. There is a post going around that talks about that I will partly share below:

In the original script, Guo Jing's expedition to the west and return to the south are closely integrated. The complete character arcs of all the main characters in the movie, the Western Expedition is also in the film.

The film has spent a lot of effort and resources to visualize Wu Mu's will, war, and animals. The essence of the play, this entire section was taken away for review, and a lot of the plot needs to be reviewed later. The dubbing of the previous part continues, and some memories and inserts of the previous part are added. The broadcast becomes even more fragmented, resulting in incoherent plots.

Guo Jing experienced the suffering of all living beings in the war, and Huang Rong's role of leading the Beggars' Gang is gone, and the early adaptations make it even more miserable.

Some of the character arcs are incomplete.

Then it goes to talk about the cuts ( censorship ) caused by sensitive subjects that may cause diplomacy issues.

We still have a few more days for things to take a turn and I will update this blog for that. LOCH can also run even beyond this season and get more Box Office numbers. I have to admit this post i’m making is premature cause we are only days in, but by experience, the early days will usually tell you what’s gonna happen moving forward.

( as of writing, nezha leads with 1.5 billion and loch at 500 million )

A few more points:

• The film was promoted heavily around Tsui Hark being the director. It didn’t live up to expectations and this is why some negative reviews are coming. This is such a big production with lots of moving parts and it seems like it didn’t all fit. Some antis are saying that XZ fans are “blaming” again but this time i guess it’s valid. i’m not saying XZ was perfect either, i’m sure there is room for improvement but he can’t fix the story.

• 🍤🍤🍤 were too confident. it’s not a secret that I have no love for these sea creatures but they were boasting a lot. AND NOW HERE WE ARE.

this has always been my frustration. the karma is getting them. but is also directly affecting XZ who worked hard on this film. who didn’t tell them to do these nasty things. i also see people who wouldn’t even consider LOCH cause at some point 🍤🍤🍤 were rude to their bias before.

it’s like, people wanna see the 🍤 fandom fail. not xz. just the nasty 🍤🍤🍤 who offended a lot of people online at some point.

my god. they really don’t deserve XZ 😭😭😭😭

• the issue of unfair screening times and slots are also being brought up by fans. all i have to say is, welcome to the spring festival clownery. welcome to the movie world, you all must be new here. it doesn’t mean people can’t complain and be frustrated. what i’m saying is LOCH isn’t the first movie to experience this. it happens every year. it happens every big film holiday. this is not the land of dramas where streaming and rating works. Movies are different. if there is anything I learned, it’s more vicious.

• some are also complaining about cinemas refunding their tickets saying there is technical issues. only to find out that they are replacing the showing for a different movie. this is so shady 💀 but again, it’s all about the money. T___T

• the theme of the movie is also not popular at the moment. TH was saying it’s time to bring back films & stories like this again. I found this article that explains my point:

Jin Yong is an idol of previous generations. In their eyes, he has gradually become a tall but distant statue. Tsui Hark's embrace of Jin Yong's IP again is an outlet for the film market to seek a breakthrough in the predicament. He tried to add mainstreaming, genre innovation, traffic stars and other means to revitalize Jin Yong's IP. There is a logical component, but there is also the possibility of success and risk.

The younger generation of audiences who are not Jin Yong fans have not actually broken off their understanding of the martial arts spirit, but they have chosen new works as carriers. For example, the audio novel "Snow Sword" labeled as "martial arts novel" has been played 2.92 billion times on a certain platform, which is far more than the number of audio books of Jin Yong's works. To some extent, the "traditional chivalry" written by Jin Yong is quite different from the "cool martial arts" that the new audience likes, which combines magic, games, and VR.

In fact, from the pre-sale results to the current box office results, it can be seen that the market and the audience still have high expectations and sufficient space for martial arts themes. The altruistic spirit and noble character naturally carried by the martial arts spirit will still make young people curious and have a strong desire to follow and imitate. For the filmmakers, the difficulty of the creative challenge is far greater than the market opportunity-the care and empathy for individual growth, the assumption of social responsibility, etc., still need the work to provide a new interpretation.

After Jin Yong passed away, someone said, "It's not the end of an era, it's the beginning of an era." What this sentence means is that the spirit of martial arts will never become obsolete, but it needs to be updated from time to time. In addition to constantly exploring new forms of expression of martial arts, we must also strive to find new soil for the spirit of martial arts to land. Only in this way can the spirit of martial arts remain high and vigorous in the hearts of generations.

• the goal for xz ( and wyb ) is to be popular and liked by the general public. having a solid solo fandom definitely has it perks but situations like this — they should have a good reputation. the movie/drama must also be exceptional for it to “get out of the circle”. a movie they make should not be “a movie for fans” but for everyone to enjoy.

Let me wrap this up with some good news tho, because international fans can make a difference. To the countries that are going to have screenings, you can contribute by watching and sharing your reviews! 💕 it’s the essence of fandom, to enjoy the content and be happy with the experience. it’s too easy to get caught up with the competitive nature of the SF movie season cause it’s a favorite topic on weibo, but it’s better to celebrate Xiao Zhan’s Spring Festival Movie debut 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

I have absolute faith in XZ’s strength as an actor and that time will tell us the truth. right now, the black propaganda is strong cause they have to manipulate public opinion really quick ( i’m not saying all negative reviews are antis but you know what i mean & viewers are expected to be extra critical of XZ cause of how famous he is! ). His talent will shine through. He will have more movies/dramas that are gonna be better than this and we are here to support him. Box-office numbers is not the measure of XZ’s success in playing Guo Jing. I haven’t seen it but knowing XZ’s care for the characters he plays, seeing the training he went through — he did him justice.

-END.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 32. Reunification Day

Summary: Reunification Day. A day of celebration for most of Navarre. But not for everyone. Sometimes it's best not to judge a book by its cover.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

Dahlia

Another year, another Reunification Day. A day I never enjoyed celebrating even though I should. It signified the end of the Rebellion. And yet it never sat right with me. Something always feeling off about what had happened. But maybe that was because I never trusted my father. A father who would definitely have my head if I didn’t turn up. I adjust the sash, knowing if my uniform is less than perfect I would get a talking to. Like it would matter. I was bound to get a talking to tonight regardless of what I did or how I looked.

I give myself one more glance in the mirror before pushing open my door and locking it behind me. Dain would be here any moment and I’d rather not give him the opportunity to come into my room. As I step back into the corridor I collide with someone walking behind me, both of us stumbling at the impact.

”Sorry I-” My words die in my mouth as I turn and see Garrick standing behind me.

For a brief moment he looks sad, but as his eyes travel down my body I watch them harden as he takes in my uniform. His jaw ticking with irritation.

”You ready to-” Bodhi joins us in the hallway, stopping as he notes the stare down Garrick and I are locked in.

”Of course you would be celebrating today.” He mutters to me with a shake of his head, any hint of sadness I’d seen gone.

This was the first time I’d been close to Garrick since that night. Only seeing him at a distance around the Quadrant or in Battle Brief. No longer turning up after hours at the gym like he use to, or sitting with us at meals when he could get away with not sitting with leadership. And now being this close again, I was suddenly reminded of the sting of betrayal I had felt that night. And I hated how my body responded to him. Hated how my heart rate picked up as I look into his hazel eyes. Hated how my body relaxed as his familiar smell of leather, smoke, mixed with the woodsy spice of cedar and sandalwood.

”Not that I owe you any explanation, but if I had the choice I wouldn’t be going. They might celebrate, but I do not. I unfortunately have appearances to up hold.” I hiss at him, Bodhi looking between us as if unsure he should stop what was going on.

Garrick scoffs at my words, shaking his head again at me. “And here I thought you didn’t give a shit about appearances and what people thought of you.” He snarls at me.

I inwardly flinch at his words. He was right. But there was another meaning to today. One they didn’t know about and one I wouldn’t indulge in. “You’re right, I don’t. So I don’t care what you think about me right now.”

An awkward silence falls over us, Bodhi still looking torn if he should step in or let this play out. I note both of them aren’t dressed in dress uniform, both of them dressed in flight leathers instead. I don’t blame them. If I could be out flying I would join them.

”Dahlia.” Dain calls from a few doors down. Least he knew to keep his distance.

I turn and walk towards him, hearing the scoff from Garrick loud and clear as if he was standing next to me. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does way more than it should. I hear Bodhi talking to him behind me, but I block out whatever they say, not needing it to play on my mind. Not today.

”What did they want?” Dain asks as he falls into step next to me.

”Nothing important.” I tell him bluntly as we join the crowd heading to the celebrations.

Garrick

“What the hell was that?” Bodhi barks at me, shoving me in the shoulder.

I shove his hand away, turning my back on the crowd of cadets heading towards the celebration of our downfall.

”None of you damn business.” I grumble at him as we head towards the door at the other end of the first year dormitories.

”Like hell it is. I’ve watched you pinning over her for the better half of this year. I was literally pleading your case to her when you stumbled through around the corner with your tongue down some random girls throat.” He nearly yells at me.

I turn on my heel, stopping in my tracks as Bodhi walks into me, stumbling back a few steps from the impact. “I am very aware of the fact I fucked up. I’m very fucking aware that I threw any chance I had with her down the drain because I got drunk and then thought I’d never have a chance with her. And then I realise I did when I saw how broken she looked because of me. I don’t need you reminding me!”

”So what are you going to do about it?” Xaden states from behind me. I look over my shoulder to see him leaning against the archway giving me a pointed stare, though I note it’s lacking it’s usual edge. He’d been through a lot recently and today was just icing on the cake for the mood he’d been in.

I shake my head, “It doesn’t matter. Nothing I do will change what she thinks of me now.” I mutter before turning and pushing past Xaden towards the flight field.

Every time I looked at her it was a damn reminder of the stupid decision I had made that night. I had convinced myself that it didn’t matter what I’d done. That I’d actually done what she’d wanted from me to even give me a chance. Unaware that Bodhi had actually pleaded my case to her. Had actually convinced her the rumours that had spread in the Quadrant were actually true. But as I’d met her eyes that night I knew I had messed up. That I’d fucked up any chance I’d had with the girl I’d told myself time and time again I didn’t want, didn’t need. But I did. I wanted her more than anything despite everything telling me I didn’t. She was an Aetos. A daughter of our enemy. The daughter of someone who stood by and watched it all happen. And yet time and time again throughout this year she had proved that she was not. Time and time again she had proven me wrong, met me step for step and had schooled me multiple times. And each time she did she wormed herself in more and more without even knowing what she was doing.

”So what are you going to do about it?” Chradh states in my head, no teasing tone that usually comes with anything to do with her as I step into the flight field.

I look up at him from the entry to the flight field. “Like I said to Xaden there’s nothing I can do. You saw my memories. You saw how she looked at me. There’s nothing I can do to fix that.”

”I honestly didn’t think you’d give up this easily.” He challenges, narrowing his golden eyes on me.

”Then what do you think I should do?” I snap at him.

”Go show her you actually care. Open up to her and let her in.” He drawls as if now bored with the situation. “Or don’t. But don’t you dare mope around if you choose to do nothing.”

I turn around, pushing past Xaden and Bodhi who look confused at my sudden change in direction.

”Where the hell are you going?” Bodhi calls out to me.

I turn to look at them, “I’m going to prove her wrong.”

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal @stupid-and-contagious01 @hyperfixation-train-station @lxnvmvrzx @thebreadisthetruevillian @red0202 @fangirling-galore @craftytrashprincess @taliyahvermillion @xadenswhore

[kingdom-of-sins]

hii how do u think the fourth wing boys would react to finding out your dragons are mated? 👀 (pls pls include aaric?)

(I have only read till half of IF so forgive me if something doesn't align with the characters)

Ridoc: You both are first year and this guy has been flirting with you from the moment he saw you cross the parapet. You were a challenge to him and you enjoyed the game as well. You both made a bet that if both of you survive thrashing and bond with dragons there will be some serious celebration which will not involve any clothes. Imagine Ridoc surprised, happy, horny, confused at the same time. That's how he was when you both found out your dragons are mates, and the celebration certainly happened sooner because both your dragons started "celebrating" as well. Ridoc is especially happy about the connection he has with you now...sending "wild" thoughts in the middle of a series class or the continuous mental fighting. He also pouted an entire day when he realized you successfully learned to shield your mind and used it against him, but luckily for him he knows how to get your shield down. Ridoc is also very grateful that his dragon prefers to stay with his mate all the time.

Liam: Okay for this I have an entire scenario in my head. You as the daughter of the king but you hid your identity well and no one in that death hole war college knows who you really are, except for violet. You and Liam have fought each other during training, obviously Liam always winning and ending up on top of you. The subtle flirting and caring could almost go unnoticed, but still enough to make both your hearts crave something more. But you know you have to stay away from the marked ones and can't develop feelings for any of them, maybe that's why you sometimes act rude towards him just when things start to get a little more than a mere friendship. After the threshing, Liam immediately figured out that both your dragons are mate (Xaden helped him). But you couldn't figure out what's going on, and let's just say your dragon has a mischievous side and is enjoying your confusion and frustration. Liam's has suddenly developed an urge to be with you all the time (not really, he felt this way before but the dragons gave him a good reason now). Because of the bond Liam soon found out your true identity, maybe he read your mind or his dragon told him because your dragon can't keep a single secret from his mate. Out of loyalty Liam told Xaden and it became a whole mess. A big fight happen between you and Liam and at that moment both your dragons thought it would be funny to hook up. So all that emotions let to angry hate sex with you and Liam. A marked one and the princess. The hate sex didn't last long and it soon turned into something more passionate and emotional. The next day Liam happily sat next to his dragon as he watch you scold your dragon for getting horny at the worst time possible. You still have a lot to get used to but you don't regret your time with Liam. Liam thinks its the best thing that has happened to him.

Imagine Liam using his signet to watch you when you are a little bit far away. Imagine his love sick smile and everyone is like "what's he smiling about?"

Bodhi: You being a first year and Bodhi a third year. Bodhi was not expecting you to bond with his dragon's mate, especially when everyone knows your dragon has an attitude and is very picky. Bodhi was literally going "no no no" when he was observing the thrashing and his dragon is like "my mate choose well, she is pretty and strong". Up until then Bodhi never really care about you but now suddenly there is this big twist. Imagine you are one of those people who thinks that rules should always be followed, it certainly doesn't work when Bodhi is literally part of the rebellion. So what does Bodhi do? Get you in trouble first which could get you kicked out or worse, and then tell you that your dragons are mates. It's the only idea he can come up with in short time to protect the rebellion and to make sure you don't do blabbing away, not that you were ever going to because even though you follow rules you know what is wrong and what is right. Your dragon doesn't like Bodhi much but tolerate him because of his mate. Bodhi's dragon however adore you. When your dragon started mating you stay away far away from Bodhi, maybe even seek the comfort of another and lets just say Bodhi has a hard time hiding his jealousy, especially when his own dragon is also jealous on his behalf

Garrick: "I am fucked" That's the words that came out of Garrick's mouth when he realized you bonded with his dragon's mate. And why he reacted that way? Because you two hooked up shortly after you started your first year and he ended things because you caught feelings and he didn't, at least that's what he believe. Now it didn't take you long to move on (that's what he believes) but he is certain that this new change between you two will make everything more complicated. Garrick trying to explain you the enter thing, mated dragons, him and you never going to happen and all that. He was kind of disappointed when you only replied "cool". He can hear his dragon laughing with its mate about the entire situation. The fact that you are so chill about all this made him even more frustrated and he just keeps lying to himself that the frustration is because your dragons are about to "mate" again, and you are like "then why am i not feeling it?" and just walk away. You will be in hell before you let yourself catch feeling again, and Garrick is terribly regretting not giving you his heart when you first confessed. "I am fucked", and his dragon is like "yes you are and me and my mate are enjoying this". The direct mental link is another thing that has disrupted his entire life when you just simply indifferent to him and flirt and hook up with others. And when you learned to shield your mind Garrick was losing it. He can't even imagine not able to have the constant connection with you, but of course he tried his best to hide it

Dain: Yeah this guy felt like he lost all control when you bonded with his dragon's mate. "is that even possible?" he is in complete disbelief. But he immediately, like second later after the thrashing, got extra protective. Maybe you two knew each other from childhood, maybe you two were friends, or maybe you were never able to tolerate him. But now your life is tied to him in the most annoying dramatic way. Instead of trying to teach you to protect yourself and fight Dain is like "maybe you and your dragon should sit this one out", and like hell you are going to listen to him. It's an endless cycle of you getting on Dain's nerve and Dani getting on your nerves while both your dragons are hopelessly cheesy romantic. But like imagine Dain slowly realizing he can't always ask you to step back and not like you ever listen so he trains you. You are not happy but accept his offer. "but if you touch me without gloves i will chop you hands into tiny tiny pieces, fry them in hot oil and feed it to my dragon." Dain just roll his eyes and is like "do you always have to be so violent?"

Aaric: His real identity was revealed to you the day you bonded with your dragon. Aaric was somewhat chill about it but he had to calm you down because you are one of the marked ones and he is the king's son. There may have been some hurtful words from you side but he is just calm and let you work you emotions out. And then came the mind talking thing. "get out of my head" "i didn't even realize i was in...okay okay, i am getting out...i think we are never getting out of this." It's almost unbelievable how fast your friendship developed after this. Sure there is always something more than friendship between you two but you both have mission but Aaric always tell you "I think you will be happier with someone else" and it always confuses you because you have no idea what his signet is

Jack FUCKING Barlowe: Okay but imagine his dragon choose him because you bonded with your dragon first and his dragon is somewhat unhealthily attached to your dragon, just like Jack has an unhealthy infatuation with you. It's not a typical mate thing but there is something and its kind of scary. The type of scary that you always feel in you bones but it send chills but also a strange comfort of knowing he wont hurt you. Jack was grinning like a maniac when he realized his dragon is your dragon's "mate". Since that moment onwards your mind was never safe and you were never alone.

I didn't add Xaden because we already know how he reacts and I don't think i can write something different for him

[donovankinard]

that's right, that's right, 911 fic recs are back! its been a pretty light month for reading for me; i travelled quite a bit earlier in the month and then school started back up, so i don't have a huge amount to link, but i wanted to share what i have read anyway! this month we've got buddie, bucktommy, tarlos, buck&chris, saltommy, teddie and louliver! a very mlm heavy month, but with hen wilson week coming up that should change for feb.

🔥 Back to Us || @kumiokosposts evan buckley/eddie diaz || 95k Buck, struggling with abandonment and feelings of being unworthy, is shaken when Chris calls, asking if he can live with Buck now that he’s no longer with Tommy. Still hurt and angry with Eddie, Chris refuses to tell his dad about wanting to live with Buck, leaving Buck caught in the middle, torn between protecting Chris and his loyalty to Eddie. Yet as Buck promises to help, he feels something shift—beneath all the self-doubt and pain, a quiet hope emerges. For the first time in what feels like forever, someone chose him, and maybe, just maybe, he’s not as unworthy of love as he’s always believed.

🔥 Time in a Bottle || @cjlouwho evan buckley/tommy kinard || 16.7k (so far) His heart began to race as the doors swung open and out. No light shined in, letting Tommy know it was still night. Then, a heavy step started down the staircase. Thud, thud, thud. Fifteen steps. Tommy counted each one. And suddenly, he wasn't alone anymore.

🔥 white shoe, black shoe || @hazeystar evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.5k Tommy and Buck get married and somehow let Maddie and Eddie come up with the wedding games. Or: The wedding shoe game that ends with Eddie Diaz being a menace to society (really just Buck and Tommy)

🔥 You're Not Gone (You Can't Be Gone) || @theredrenard & @buck-up-buck evan buckley/eddie diaz || 5.2k “Eddie…?” Buck sways slightly, eyes wide. He’s paler than he should be and his voice sounds so, so fragile. His hand twitches at his side like he’s trying to reach for Eddie, but he can’t quite get his arm to move. In the time it takes Eddie to glance down, then back up to Buck’s face with dawning horror painted on his features, Buck’s legs give out and he collapses onto the concrete in slow motion.

🔥 a hundred times over || @fake-mouthstatic evan buckley/tommy kinard || 7.7k (so far) A collection of BuckTommy drabbles for the 118 Daily Drabble Challenge.

🔥 To Share, A little, A lot || DracaUponTheWings carlos reyes/tk strand, evan buckley/tommy kinard || 4.7k In Which the Author seized on the possible similarities in our couples and forced them to talk.

🔥 when fate cries || @theghostofashton carlos reyes/tk strand || 67.8k An ACL tear, the statement posted a couple days later had read. Carlos would need immediate surgery, and obviously – he would not compete for the USA in London. TK, still coming off the thrill of being named to the team himself, hadn’t been sure how to feel. Carlos had always trained in Texas, and he in New York, so they rarely crossed paths outside of competitions. That’s why he was looking forward to being on the team with him, so sure it was guaranteed. It was practically a given among every coach he talked to. Carlos was a lock. It felt weird to celebrate. Wrong, almost. Carlos should have been with him. They’d both been working for this their entire lives. three years later, the road to rio brings with it far more than redemption

🔥 Come Back... Be Here || @911varietyposts evan buckley & christopher diaz || 1.1k Buck still hadn’t gone back to work, even though Maddie was pushing him to just so he could have something to distract his mind from everything going on around him. He just couldn’t bring himself to go back yet; not to the job that had claimed the love of his life. OR: Buck and Chris navigate the emotions after Eddie's death

🔥 just give hope a chance to float up || @judymarch15 sal deluca/tommy kinard || 23.4k Sal Deluca's marriage falls apart on national television. He and his daughter Sophia move back to his hometown of Smithville, Texas to live with his mom Loretta. He works on picking up the pieces of his life, grows closer to his family, and reconnects with old classmate and football teammate Tommy Kinard.

🔥 Louliver Road Trip || @writerdot lou ferrigno jr/oliver stark || 2.5k Oliver isn't alone on his road trip.

🔥 sonnet || @athenaeumsfic evan buckley/tommy kinard || 30.5k It wasn’t supposed to still feel this raw after so long. Every time Tommy passes him by, his cologne lingers in the air for a moment and Buck is transported back to this time last year when they were getting to the stage of really, properly knowing each other. He’d never been happier. A few times, Tommy swipes his back as he moves around him – the garden is crowded with three separate firehouses hanging around – and it feels like an electric shock every time. All he wants is to reach behind him, grab his hand and pull Tommy close. aka the one where Buck and Tommy have broken up but agree to a weekend in Vegas with Eddie and Chimney. Chaos ensues.

🔥 i'm broken (tell you i'm fine) || @hazeystar evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.9k Two weeks after the breakup, Buck misses Tommy. He also loves him, did you know?

🔥 Tiny Heartbeats || @sunnywithachanceofbi evan buckley/tommy kinard || 9.9k Tommy and Buck's daughter, Edie, faces a life-threatening heart surgery at two weeks old, pushing them to confront their deepest fears while waiting in the hospital.

🔥 There's Gotta Be Some Butterflies Somewhere || Tea_gremlin evan buckley/eddie diaz || 34.7k Eddie joins the 118 after Buck is permanently disabled by an explosion at a call. Despite initial tensions, they learn just how important they can be to one another.

🔥 say what you wanna say (and let the words fall out) || @nephilimeq evan buckley/tommy kinard || 6.3k “You all saw me sad and upset over Tommy breaking up with me—but instead of asking me what went wrong or what you could do to help, all of you stopped me from reaching out to him!” Buck spat out, feeling his irritation rise at seeing his friends looking confused, but he didn’t care. Instead, he kept on talking, saying, “You kept me from reaching out to him by playing ‘keep away’ with my phone like a bunch of middle schoolers! Did it ever occur to any of you that I didn’t want the breakup to happen?” (...aka, the story where Buck and Tommy secretly get back together and then Buck finally stands up for himself against his 118 family, finally saying what he's been wanting to say for a long while, dragging all the dirt out into the open)

🔥 playing (playing with the boy) || @thatmexisaurusrex eddie diaz/tommy kinard || 5.2k Tommy. Snorted. Cute. Why was that cute?

🔥 shelter (feels like home) || @fake-mouthstatic evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.9k Tommy wakes with a start to the sound of ringing and it takes him a few bleary eyed moments to realise it's his phone, loud even over the pounding of the rain outside. He frowns at the bright light as he picks it up, worry immediately catching in his throat when he sees Evan's name on the screen; it's close to 3am and from experience he knows that's rarely when people call with good news. "Hey babe, are you okay?" he says as he answers, rubbing his eyes as he sits up in bed. "The storm," Evan says, and Tommy's heart wrenches in his chest when he realises he's crying. "There wasn't supposed to be a storm."

🔥 John Doe|| @thatmexisaurusrex evan buckley/tommy kinard || 5.8k He was tanned. Not too tanned, but he definitely tanned more than burned in the sun. He had an aquiline nose, distinct cheekbones, and a cleft. He had curly hair; curly, chestnut brown hair. He was banged up from the hit and run. Cuts and bruises, though, the swelling was going down and the fresh red-purple was seeping into a yellow. Had three casts and almost lost his spleen. Dry lips from a week and a half asleep. He was breathing, though. Breathing steadily. He was Tara Kaplan’s first John Doe. And no one was sure if they would ever figure out who he was before he woke up.

🔥 want you more than a melody || @alchemistc evan buckley/tommy kinard || 2.5k “What are you looking for?” Tommy asks, and doesn’t linger at all on how at home Evan looks, just rifling through his things. He’d caught him sorting Tommy’s mail, last weekend, nothing overly curious, just piles of junk mail sorted away from the bills and the single postcard from his nephew, fingers drifting over the stocky block letters of Tommy’s name before he realized he’d been caught out, lips squeezing in like a kid tasting his first lemon. “The key to your china cabinet,” Evan tells him, still sorting, keys chiming merrily against each other. “Second drawer to the left of the fridge, little brass thing. It’s where I keep my ring cutter,” Tommy tells him, expanding heart and weak joints and all, as Evan grins at the joke and stalks halfway across the room in two wide, long-legged steps.

STATS: # of fics: 19 # of authors: 16 # of words read: 306.3k

[wolfislost]

Living As Alterhuman: Passion and Convinction.

As discussed by @baumarius the following is an explanation and description of how I feel about my alter humanity.

I'll be referring to level 3 of your 3 level framework, or the “so what” of being alterhuman. How it impacts me, how much I care, whether my expression is limited by my environment.

To start, I pursued psychology aggressively. I studied it for 5 years in preparation for university. This was before I knew that the label of alterhuman existed. I was searching for the nameless thing I knew to be wrong with me. Seeking answers to why I felt so twisted and shameful inside. Why I had strange thoughts, struggled with my self worth, and could never fit in among my peers. I learned a lot from psychology, and started therapy during those 5 years.

I also learned that I was a werewolf. An alterhuman. At least partly as a result of exactly those feelings I was seeking to understand. My place in this community was a huge piece of the puzzle.

So, how do I feel about it? What does it mean to me?

Peace mostly. Acceptance. A means to love myself more completely. A way to understand and accept the parts of myself I spent a lifetime pushing away. It gives me confidence. Makes me feel at home in my skin.

It definitely changes the way I view myself in relation to human society. I've always felt a bit like an outsider, and felt the pressure to socialise more. To conform. To be liked by my peers. It bothers me less now, knowing that I have a good reason to feel a little estranged. I don't exactly fit in most humans' view of the world, whether it's psychologically or behaviourally. Of course that makes friendship all the more valuable. The people, both human and not, who choose to understand or at least accept me as I am.

It can absolutely be hard at times, not being understood. Having to swallow my instincts so I can go unnoticed. Or worse, having to wrestle with my prey drive while in public. The separation that exists between me and humanity is both a blessing and a curse, to some extent. These days though I lean more towards it being a blessing.

I haven't made any drastic life decisions around my alterhumanity. Although it does have a place in my relationships, and my work life as an artist. I'm currently a member of a wildlife group, the largest one in my country, and I'm looking forward to getting involved in some of their projects. Protecting and caring for the ecosystem is part of being alterhuman for me. It's why I garden, and why I immerse myself in the woods at every opportunity. I'm not religious, so the woods are as close as I get to any holy ground.

I wouldn't describe myself as passionate about my alterhumanity. I'm invested in building a life where I can express it authentically, and I'm clearly motivated to share and talk about my experiences here. But It's not exactly coming from a place of passion. It's more a place of comfort. I feel comfortable in what I am, and want to continue to be comfortable. Hence my choice of friends and my criteria for where I want to live.

It's all very practical I suppose.

I'm predominantly interested in building habits, structures, and systems that will allow me to be myself. Access to nature, the privacy and freedom to celebrate the full moon as I choose, the ability to channel my experiences into my work, being able to vocalise and be authentic around friends, even publicly wearing stuff like pins and collars- or painting my nails. Practical ways that I can express my identity and continue to exist largely unhindered.

It’s what I'm working towards right now. After three years of pursuing this bachelor's degree, I'll pivot into making art full time. Figure out how to save for a place to live somewhere out near the trees. Carve out the time to pick back up my interest in ecology, and maybe do some activism in that area. My goals have been extremely clear cut for the last few years. After a long time being unable to envision a future for myself, I'm more than determined to see this through.

More than anything, I'll chase this dream of an integrated life. Even if I fail, I'll know it wasn't for lack of trying.

So I guess THAT'S my conviction.

The will to live, as I am.

You ask, at one point, what this would all look like in an ideal world. To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure. I've spent most of my time since joining the community, focusing on “realistic” methods of integration. Essentially all the things I mentioned earlier. I think my ideal world is still very possible. I don't particularly want to share the details of my alterhumanity with strangers, so public acceptance doesn't concern me.

I suppose my most far fetched desire is for an offline community of alterhumans in my area. Everything else I can attain simply by working for it, learning skills or amassing funds. But I can't spontaneously generate alterhumans nearby. I’ve only met one other, and it was by coincidence. There is a vast gulf between the digital and physical spaces. Online, information and possibilities for connection are rampant. In person, not so much. Being public about that kind of thing is too big of a risk for most. The privacy that protects us also keeps us separated.

Again though, my ideal world is largely attainable. Time in nature, channeling myself into my work, getting fangs, finding people I can express myself around, all very achievable. I think that's important to acknowledge, because a lot of us feel like a comfortable or authentic life is beyond our reach. It may not be perfect in every way. There are going to be times where human responsibilities come up unexpectedly and encroach on my freedom. But it's still a life worth pursuing.

A huge thank you to @zith-ipeth , @beastlybardou , and @dovspeaksbeast for sharing their own journeys and visions of the future. I still consider myself new to the community, but so much of it is having others to look to and learn from. Thank you all.