#i would hate to be overly critical

[lizclipse]

I'm a sucker for timelines so

hopefully im not overdoing it (not exactly a teacher who knows how to grade smth) and this stuff is actually helpful in some way

2025-2026: a general increase is optimistic so soon (esp without eco problems) is optimistic, but honestly we need some optimism

2027: appreciate the use of a real mission for this :)

2030: would this second embankment not trigger a renewed call for a second canal? not sure if there's any news about this from the first one, tho

2034: i'd keep an eye on the h_3 mining, since there seems to be missions to look into it already in the works (2025 is a year ive seen a couple times in a shit-quick search, might be bs)

2036: i'm not personally convinced that fusion will be market-ready by then, especially not the ITER variety. i know there are other techniques being looked at, maybe some might be more viable for this point? (i may look into it myself and get back to you, but if i do that now i'll get lost and never come back)

2036-2037: the martian mission feels odd to me, since all i've heard about such a thing is that it's currently 1-way (the main thing that bothers me about the film 'the martian'). are there plans for a send-and-return currently?

2037: ykno that optimism thing i mentioned? you could guess what i feel about a certain point in here :) otherwise, it might be worth looking in to skyhooks, as those might be more viable that sp-elevators, and the baby surprises me. would expect missions like this to prevent that sort of thing, so i'd at prolly expect a scandal (or at the least an investigation into the how, sovereignty should be fine since antartica is similar legally)

2040: self-sufficiency is huge, but i'd expect it happening on the moon to be a pre-requisite for a mars mission because of the difficulty getting things there

2042: i'm surprised that the US gov would involve themselves like this after big QOL improvements earlier, is there some political stuff that makes them slide back?

2048: a year feels like a very short time for a full QM revolution. it would do one prolly, but physics needs a ton of time lol

2050: half the states being western corpo based feels odd to me. western corps have had a historically hard time breaking into the chinese market, and i'd expect Taiwan to have some say here due to their historical claims on the chinese mainland (they'd also have a large influence as well due to a shitload of western tech depending on them). oh, and there's a bunch of climate targets aimed at 2050, so it might be a good idea to mark how closely they were hit (or just think about it idk)

2051: i really like the beamed energy idea happening :3 would it affect the fusion reactor demand?

2053: i could be really mistaken on all the mars mission stuff, but wouldn't it have to be at least semi-sustainable from the get-go? considering the months travel time & cost of launching things, regularly supplying a permanent base would be hella, hella expensive

2057: what is $1T in comparison to other big corpos? inflation is a bitch honestly

2060: new york feels odd at first since i'd expect a lot of space to be necessary, but it is the area with some of the highest energy demand so it'd make sense nearby at least

2067/2071: i'm curious on the life on venus here. mars seems like a much more likely place, but is the intent here that there's a completely different kind of life on venus? this feels like a big deal tbh, and might be worth exploring more (like huge advancements etc)? i would take care with this, tho, since (i believe) our current knowledge of chemistry seems to indicate that carbon/water is the single best basis, and alternatives are non-viable enough to make life built on it really unlikely. also, panspermia isn't super relevant at the moment, but i don't think you could ever outright prove that is didn't happen (doesn't seem likely to be right tho).

general things: i like the asteroid & (especially) the gas giant (& venus possibly) mining, since it's cool and opens a lot of potential for mega-corp shenanigans. not sure we'd colonise the gas giants themselves, but i can 100% see some of the moons. i'd be curious on a map showing the territory ranges for corps and govs closer to the end. also the 'massive object' is an interesting mystery...

overall, i really like it, and it seems fairly reasonable for a potential future timeline. curious on the setting, tho, and whether the massive object is going to be alien in nature :)

Unfinished Timeline for an Untitled Setting

Critique and advice is more than welcome, though please be nice about it. Goes up to about 2081 rn, though I plan to get at least another 50 years further in before I get to the time I want the bulk of the setting to be set in.

Timeline:

2022: First controlled break-even fusion reaction, followed by first controlled net-gain fusion reaction.

2025-2026: Increasing unrest in USA leads to mass riots outside the white-house. Sweeping reforms after growing revolts threaten to become a major armed rebellion. NASA miraculously left untouched, general increase in standard of living. Economic crisis narrowly averted.

2027: First nuclear thermal rocket (NTR) tested in orbit by NASA and DARPA. GPT-style language modeling declared “dead end” for self-aware AI.

2030: First Lunar base established under NASA Artemis program. Suez Canal temporarily blocked by a poorly driven cargo ship again. Evergreen Shipping goes bankrupt.

2034: Lunar Gateway established under joint NASA, ESA, JAXA, DLR, ASI, and CNSA. Lunar helium-3 mining declared officially nonviable. Radial detonation engines become standard for lower ascent stages, SpaceX Starship, NASA SLS, and Roscosmos Soyuz phased out. Drop in launch prices.

2034-2036: Additional modules added to the Lunar Gateway from SpaceX, KARI, ISRO, and Roscosmos. Lunar Gateway Collaborative Group (LGCG) established consisting of all current contributors to the station.

2036: First commercial fusion energy plant reaches full operation in France under ITER. Mass production of Tritium begins. First fully private space station under SpaceX. Asteroid mining corporations begin formation. Establishment of Nigerian Organization for the Development of Space (NODS). Ecuador experiences communist revolution.

2036-2037: First manned martian mission under LGCG, first human footsteps on another planetary body.

2037: Elon Musk assassinated. New SpaceX leadership declares plans for space elevator. North Korea collapses, Korean peninsula unified under South Korean leadership, becoming simply Korea. Indian nuclear stockpile secretly surpasses 50000 Gt. First baby born on the moon.

2040: Artemis base becomes semi-self sufficient, producing it’s own food and air from hydroponics, and water from mined lunar ice. Lunar LH2 and hydrolox production begins. Lunar population passes 100.

2040-2042: First commercial fusion power plants established in the US, UK, Australia, Korea, and Japan.

2042: A joint US Government and SpaceX black operation destabilizes Ecuador, leading to a corporate takeover of the territory.

2044: Korea, Japan, the Philippines, Vietnam, Malaysia, Indonesia, Papua New Guinea, Australia, and New Zealand form West Pacific Trade Organization (WPTO). Construction of the base of SpaceX’s planned space elevator begins off the coast of Ecuador.

2047: LCC completed at CERN. Mission for permanent martian base declared. Major economic crisis in China, intervention from several megacorps results in a decrease in Chinese government power and increase in corporate control in the region. SpaceX space elevator counterweight construction begins in geostationary orbit.

2048: Major revolution in quantum mechanics brought on by new data from the LCC. Lunar population passes 250.

2050: China splits into 4 corporate states, Amazon Corporate Territory (ACT) with its capitol in Chongqing, Samsung Independent State (SIS) with its capitol in Shanghai, Territory for Electronic Developments (TED) made up of Apple and Microsoft with its capitol in Yinchuan, and the Chinese Corporate Union (CCU) made up of several formerly state-owned corporations with their capitol in Wuhan and possession of the Three Gorges Dam. Beijing becomes an independent city-state controlled by the former Chinese government, retaining control over the CNSA. Massive revolution in battery energy density. Permanent martian base established by LGCG.

2051: Breakthrough in photon manipulation, beamed energy and solar collection becomes increasingly viable. Many asteroid mining corps branch into solar power, notably Binghamton Vacuum Mining Solutions (BVMS). Lunar population passes 500.

2052: Martian population surpasses 100.

2053: Martian base reaches semi-self sustainability.

2055: All 4 Chinese corporate states and the Beijing city state form the Chinese Federation for Space Exploration (CFSE), supplanting the old CNSA. Lunar Gateway module renamed and LGCG roster amended accordingly. SpaceX space elevator cable completed, first test cart sent to GEO. WPTO begins construction of a space elevator in the Banda Sea.

2056: SpaceX space elevator declared complete, commercial operation begins.

2057: BVMS surpasses $1T in net worth, becomes primary supplier of energy for the Artemis Lunar Base. Lunar Population surpasses 1k, massive migratory population surge begins following influx of energy from BVMS. Martian population surpasses 250. First fusion reactor in Ecuador.

2058: WPTO space elevator counterweight begins construction in GEO.

2060: First fusion reactors in Nigeria and India. First large-scale solar collector on Earth constructed in New York operated by BVMS. Large population surge in Binghamton NY. Lunar population surpasses 5k. Martian space station established. Regulations for GEO development established.

2061: First lunar-built spacecraft flown. Secondary lunar settlement founded by CFSE. Massive influx of funds for the WPTO space elevator from the CFSE, GEO counterweight construction begun. Lunar Gateway population surpasses 100. First fusion reactor in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), Congo space agency (DRCSA) founded.

2064: WPTO space elevator cable completed, declared complete and opened to commercial operation.

2065: BVME establishes unmanned Mercurian base. CFSE settlement population surpasses 100. Martian population surpasses 500. Lunar Gateway population surpasses 200.

2066: Mass expansion of Artemis Base life support systems using BVMS produced automated construction equipment. Aerostat scientific outpost established by LGCG.

2067: Microbial life discovered on Venus. Venus outpost (and LGCG) acquires substantial funding boost. Artemis base population surpasses 2.5k and begins to plateau.

2069: Unmanned mission to Europa announced by LGCG, plans to use BVMS automated platforms to drill into subsurface ocean established. Martian base purchases automated construction equipment from BVMS, massive population boon ensues. CFSE settlement population surpasses 750. Lunar gateway population surpasses 500. Martian base population surpasses 500. BVME becomes the largest corporate entity in the system.

2070: BVMS performs feasibility study on gas giant aerostat mining platforms.

2071: Study of Venusian lifeforms disproves Earth-Venus panspermia.

2073: BVMS tests laser-sail propulsion on small unmanned craft.

2075: LGCG Europa mission discovers multicellular aquatic life in Europa’s subsurface ocean. Plans for a dedicated research base drafted.

2076: Multi-corporate base established on Ceres to facilitate further asteroid belt mining. BVMS intentionally excluded from this project.

(System effectively split into quarters: Past Venus under BVMS, Between Venus and Mars under LGCG, belt under Multi-corporate mining control, outer system unclaimed.)

2077: GEO-Lunar cycler niche mostly filled by Intraplanetary Transport Services corp (ITS).

2080: Permanent scientific base established at the Europa Breach Point (EBP) with mostly automated systems and a small (5 human) management and maintenance crew.

2081: Panspermia further disproved by study of Europan life. Massive object detected in Jupiter’s lower atmosphere. BVMS begins mission to establish a mining aerostat on Saturn, utilizing laser sail propulsion to transport equipment.

(Saturn Aerostat site intended for use in the further colonization of the outer solar system and the Uranus planetary system itself. Atomic Rockets page)

[thekimspoblog]

Is the video game really subverting its genre? Are you sure it's not just doing clever things within its genre, because otherwise the game would be boring and unchallenging and say nothing interesting? I'm just saying, it's cool and all that the internet allows horror game fandoms to overflow into eachother, but not EVERY 2 hour video essay needs to be spent breathlessly sucking off the devs. Sometimes a game is just REGULAR difficult and REGULAR high-quality.

Besides RPGs made over a decade ago, what is the thing supposedly subverting? Clearly not other contemporary indie horror games, because there is clearly a convergent ethos forming of cosmic horror and beginners' traps; that's just what the genre looks like nowadays.

[in-a-cave-with]

tony is a sad wet beast in this new run and gets called a woke DEI lib by angry conservatives. 10/10 can't wait to see where it's going

[agnimybeloved]

the tonal whiplash between “the sun and the star” and “a nico di angelo adventure 😋” is kind of insufferable... it just sounds so goofy for lack of a better word. like the least nico di angelo thing you could do to a title. but also i think its really funny for that reason like i don’t know what the necessity is for that additional tagline but i’m glad rick riordan continues to not take nico completely seriously LOL 

[joshuaalbert]

not to just like have an evening of complaining about voy shit and this is totally unrelated but I saw an ensign ro gifset and it reminded me that I’m still mad about the voy s1 episode where tuvok makes a bajoran take his earring off. like even if for some reason that allowance still hadn’t been specifically written into starfleet regulations, the episode still very much should have ended with the realization that tuvok was being way too strict on this point and if starfleet actually wants to work with the maquis crew members, that’s an allowance that needs to be made. going forward, any bajoran crew members should’ve been wearing earrings as like. a bare minimum point of actual compromise, instead of “well you still have to follow all the starfleet rules even if they violate your religious customs but tuvok kinda broke the rules to save a guy once so it’s fine.”

like on one hand it sets up an interesting and hypocritical parallel between starfleet and the borg in terms of assimilation, but on the other hand it doesn’t really feel like that was the point of the episode given where it was in the show, so it just ends up feeling like they. never watched the first ever bajoran episode.

[snekdood]

i wanna know where ppl got this idea that im like infinitely praised or something so i need to be constantly humbled bc like... im kinda the only one out here supporting and validating me and I have been like my whole life so......

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (03)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 8.1k words (get ready for #reallove)

Aliyah's Notes: whats that one saying? rainbows before the storm or wtv tf.

You didn’t believe in hatred.

Dislike? Sure. Irritation? Absolutely. But hatred was for people with time to waste, and in your world, every second was precious. Even now, as you posed under the bright lights of your latest Chanel photoshoot, your mind wandered to the few people you disliked.

Rude stylists, overly critical photographs, maybe a couple of models who thought being catty made them superior—but hate? No, that wasn’t your style.

You were in the middle of changing poses when your phone loudly buzzed on the nearby table. You ignored it at first, moving your chin slightly as the photographer directed you. You could answer it later.

“Gorgeous, Y/N! Hold that pose… yeah, just like that!” the photographer called out, camera clicking away.

The phone buzzed again, more insistent this time. You shifted your weight to one side, flipping your hair for the next shot. But the third buzz was enough to make you sigh.

“Alright, take five!” the photographer announced, waving his assistant over.

You stepped down from the set and grabbed your phone, frowning when you saw Rafe Cameron on the screen. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you swiped to answer.

“Finally answering my calls, sweetheart?” his voice came through, cocky and irritatingly smooth.

“Rafe, I’m working,” you replied, as you pulled your robe around yourself. “Not everyone gets paid to play with a ball.”

“Work, huh? I thought posing in front of a camera was more of a hobby.”

“You’re so funny,” you said flatly, glancing back at the crew who were resetting the lights. “What do you want?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “I’m taking you out tonight.”

You snorted. “Excuse me? Did I miss the part where I agreed to go anywhere with you?”

“You didn’t,” he replied, completely unfazed. “That’s what I’m fixing right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see it. “You don’t ‘fix’ things with me, Rafe. You ask, I decide.”

“Is that our dynamic?” Rafe’s tone dripped with amusement. “You sure? Because I remember you agreeing to marry me.”

“That’s business,” you shot back. “Don’t confuse it with me actually wanting to spend time with you.”

“Uh-huh,” he drawled, clearly not buying it. “Business or not, we’ve got a public to convince. Tonight, we’re making our debut as a couple. We wouldn’t want the media thinking you’re too good for me, would we?”

“I am too good for you,” you replied smoothly, your lips quirking up. “But go on.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Dinner at La Belle, 8 PM. Be ready. I’ll pick you up.”

You glanced at the time. Seriously? “Wait, how do you know where I live?”

“I have my sources. I’m a basketball player; I can afford to have a few eyes on my future wife.”

“Creep,” you mumbled, ignoring the flutter of annoyance in your stomach. “And what makes you think I’m free tonight?”

“Because you’re talking to me instead of saying no.”

“I haven’t said yes, either.”

“You will, though. I can hear it in your voice.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re delusional.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, a smug edge in his tone. “But I’m also persistent.”

You exhaled through your nose, staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror as the makeup artist approached with a fresh brush. The look you gave yourself was somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “Fine.”

There was a pause, and you could almost hear the smirk stretching across his lips. “See you tonight.”

Before you could respond, he hung up, leaving you scowling at the screen.

“Everything okay?” your stylist asked, glancing at your reflection with a raised brow. She has been listening in.

You plastered on a smile. “Yeah… Just…  a guy, you know.”

She snorted. “Sounds like he’s already giving you headaches.”

“Don’t even get me started.”

Your thoughts swirled as you prepared to finish the photoshoot. Rafe’s voice still rang in your eyes. Dinner at La Belle? You weren’t sure why he frustrated you so much—you weren’t like this. Being optimistic and smiley was your trademark, it was who you were, but whenever Rafe was mentioned or around he made you snappy and full of attitude… and you didn’t know why. 

Hours passed in a blur of flashing cameras and outfit changes, and soon enough, it was nearing 7:30. Maya, your stylist, was packing up the last of your things when she gave you a look. “You better get going if you’re gonna make that date.”

“You’re right,” you muttered, checking your phone for the first time in hours. “Oh my God! I have 30 minutes—I gotta go bye, Maya.”

“Bye, girl,” she laughed and waved. “I hope you get dicked—”

“Lalalalala,” you screamed and ran away.

You slipped into your black trench coat and hopped in the car. You texted Rafe.

You: “I might be late. I’m sorry.”

Rafe: “What happened?”

You: “Shooting went overtime.”

Rafe: “Okay.”

You: “You should’ve picked a later time.”

Rafe: “Just get here in one piece. I like my women alive.”

You rolled your eyes, like every time with him, but couldn’t help but smile at his sarcastic tone. You fished out your small makeup bag and quickly powdered your face, adding concealer, mascara, blush, eyeliner, and lipstick. Now, you were one step ahead—ready to slip into an outfit as soon as you got home.

The car pulled up to your apartment, and you rushed into your apartment, your heart raced. You threw open your closet, eyeing the racks of beautiful dresses, each one tempting. 

You finally chose an elegant, sleek black dress that hugged your curves flawlessly, the smooth fabric flowing over your body with a low, scooped neckline. The rich black material shimmered under the light, emphasizing your figure with every movement. In a rush, you worked mousse through your hair, then applied a smoky eye that intensified your gaze, blending shades of charcoal and bronze. The look was bold, and perfectly matched the confidence you were determined to exude tonight.

Your phone buzzed.

Rafe: “You taking too long. I’m coming up.”

A series of sharp knocks echoed through your apartment, almost making you drop your phone. You whipped your head towards the door, quickly adjusting the strap of your dress as you glanced at the clock. 8:20—fuck!

“Give me a minute!” you shouted, frantically slipping on your heels. Your heart raced as you grabbed your earrings, juggling them in your hand while heading towards the door.

When you swung it open, Rafe stood on the other side, leaning casually against the doorframe, wearing that smirk that could only belong to him. His eyes immediately swept over your figure, starting at your legs, up to your waist, your exposed breasts, and finally your face. His gaze lingered, and though he didn’t say anything, the heat in his stare would’ve given you chills down your spine.

You didn’t notice. You were too busy hesitating on what to do with your hair.

“I am not ready yet,” you groaned, stepping aside to let him in. “I got home late, and I haven’t even had time to—ugh. I knew shooting was taking some time but I didn’t think it’d be this much. I’m sorry for making you wait. I swear I’m not usually like this—I hate being late.” You didn’t pause for a breath, just rambled on as you tossed the earrings on the coffee table and made a beeline for your room.

Rafe closed the door behind him, but his attention was fixed on you. He watched as you moved, the dress hugging your ass perfectly, accentuating your hurried movements. The sight of you—flustered, elegant, and completely unaware of his gaze—only deepened the smirk on his face.

“Nice place,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. His gaze followed you down the hallway, where your bedroom was slightly ajar.

Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped through the threshold and followed you inside, finding you in your room—which was the perfect picture of chaos. Clothes were draped over the bed, shoes tossed in random covers, and a vanity table cluttered with makeup. It was the kind of organized mess that only you could make sense of.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, watching as you rifled through your vanity drawer for something. His eyes swept over the pastel-colored blankets and the flowery décor, stark contrasts to the girl who had been all sass and attitude with him up until now.

But he liked that. It turned him on, for some reason.

“I didn’t take you for the ‘pink floral everything’ type,” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

You shot him a glance through the mirror, briefly pausing from rummaging through your drawer. “And I didn’t take you for the ‘nosy guest who barges into rooms uninvited’ type,” you quipped, raising an eyebrow back at him. Your fingers grazed over a tube of lipstick, which you quickly uncapped and re-applied.

Rafe’s smirk only widened. “What can I say? I’m a man full of surprises.”

“Yeah, well, try surprising me by sitting quietly on my bed like a normal person,” you shot back, giving your lips one final press together before throwing the lipstick into the pile of clutter on your vanity.

Rafe made a show of glancing around your room. “I think ‘normal’ left the building when I saw this,” he said, gesturing to the soft pink pillows and floral patterns that clashed with the image you projected. “Didn’t peg you for the type to have a room that looks like a rom-com set.”

You turned, finally facing him fully, one hand on your hip. “Oh, look, a creep overanalyzing a girl’s bedroom.”

Rafe chuckled. “Just making an observation. It’s cute. A little... princessy for someone who tries to pretend she’s all tough, but hey, I can roll with it.”

You tried to fight the smile threatening to creep up. “First of all, I am tough. Secondly, I like pink, sue me.”

“I’m not complaining,” he said with a wink, his voice dropping a little lower. “You look good in pink.”

You scoffed and turned back to the mirror, fiddling with your dress. “You’re insane.”

Rafe just grinned, watching you trying so hard to look occupied, clearly flustered. “Probably, but I think you like that,” he said, his tone teasing. He stepped closer, now standing right behind you. His presence was warm, and his gaze never left your reflection.

You met his eyes in the mirror, your hands faltering with your hair as his intense gaze locked onto yours. The air between you thickened just a little, but you weren’t about to give in to his charm. “I don’t like anything that involves you, Cameron,” you said, but the words lacked the bite you intended.

He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “I don’t believe you.”

The heat of his breath on your neck made your skin tingle, and for a brief second, you forgot what you were supposed to be doing. But then you snapped out of it, stepping away to grab your perfume from the vanity. “Well, believe this: we’re leaving in five minutes, and I still need to finish getting ready,” you said, your voice firm, though your cheeks betrayed you with a faint flush.

Rafe raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you finish...”

As you spritzed the perfume, you caught him eyeing you again, his gaze lingering on your tits. You couldn’t help but shake your head, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Eyes up here, Rafe.”

He shrugged, shameless as ever. “Can’t blame a guy for appreciating the view.” He paused for a beat, then added, “Besides, in five minutes, you’ll be mine for the night.”

You threw him a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “Creepy... This is just for show, remember?”

Rafe nodded, and as you finally slipped on your coat, he followed you toward the door, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time, there was no hiding the smile. “Yup! Ready, Cameron.”

Rafe’s hand wrapped around your wrist just as you reached for the door, his touch firm but gentle enough to send a flicker of electricity up your arm. You turned, brow furrowed.

“What now?” you sighed, trying to sound annoyed.

He took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “You know what? I think we should practice.”

You blinked, trying to read his expression. “Practice?”

His gaze dipped to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “Yeah, practice… For when we’re in public,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, almost daring you to look away. “When we’re kissing… we wouldn’t want our kisses to look unconvincing, mmh?”

A laugh bubbled out of you, partly from surprise and partly to keep yourself from being completely thrown off by the heat in his stare. “You’re kidding.”

He raised an eyebrow, inching closer, the space between you shrinking until the scent of his cologne mixed with the tension already thick in the air. “Am I?” His voice was smooth, dripping with amusement, but beneath it, there was something else. Something far more dangerous.

Your breath hitched as you took a step back, your body colliding with the door. “You’re serious...”

Rafe’s smirk widened, but this time it was laced with something primal. “Yeah,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips were just a whisper away from yours. “You look so fucking good tonight, sweetheart.”

Your pulse raced, and for a split second, you considered pushing him away, but your body betrayed you. You stayed there, frozen in the moment, trapped by the intensity in his gaze, the closeness of his body.

Before you could even form a reply, he closed the distance, his lips pressing against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn’t the playful, teasing peck you were expecting—it was deep, his hand sliding to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss was full of fire and heat, a simmering tension that had been building between the two of you since the moment you met.

Your mind went blank, the world outside disappearing as your lips moved against his, as though you had been kissing him forever. His fingers tightened on your waist, and a low moan escaped from the back of your throat, sending a wave of warmth through your entire body.

When you finally broke apart, your chest was heaving, and you could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours. You stared at him, wide-eyed, struggling to catch your breath. Rafe’s blue eyes were dark, his smile gone, replaced by a hungry look that made your stomach twist in knots.

“That was...” you trailed off, trying to find the right word. But nothing seemed to fit.

Rafe’s thumb brushed over your lower lip, wiping away some of your smeared lipstick. “For practice,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “You know… just in case.”

Your heart pounded in your ears, but your brain finally caught up. “Uh-huh,” you mumbled, still feeling the warmth of his thumb on your lip. “Just practice.”

You tried to step away, but his hand was still on your waist, holding you there, his thumb brushing the delicate skin of your hip as if testing the boundaries between you.

“You, uh…” Your voice wavered, and you blinked, trying to find something—anything—to cut through the tension. “You’ve also got lipstick all over you.”

Rafe’s lips twitched into a grin, though his eyes remained locked on yours, full of heat. “I do?”

You nodded, taking a breath to calm your racing pulse. “Here, let me…” Without thinking, you reached up and brushed your thumb across his lips, wiping away the smear of color.

It should’ve been innocent. It should’ve been nothing.

But the moment your thumb touched his lips, Rafe’s eyes darkened even more. He caught your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it gently but firmly, his gaze never leaving yours. The warmth of his skin seeped into you, and the atmosphere between you both thickened, the tension pulling tighter.

You swallowed hard, suddenly hyper aware of how close you were, how your bodies seemed to gravitate towards each other without you even realizing it. The way he was looking at you—like he wanted to devour you—it made you feel dizzy.

His voice was a low rasp when he finally spoke. “You’re killing me here.”

Your breath hitched at the huskiness in his tone, your stomach twisting with nerves and something else entirely. You tried to laugh it off, to shake the moment. “It’s just lipstick, Rafe.”

His thumb brushed over your pulse, the simplest touch sending sparks down your spine. “It’s not the lipstick,” he murmured, his eyes flicking back to your lips.

You bit the inside of your cheek, desperate to break the tension before you did something you’d regret. “You’re all cleaned up now, Romeo. We should go,” you said, your voice shaky but determined.

Rafe’s hand lingered a moment longer on your wrist, his gaze searching yours, as if considering whether or not to push further. But then he dropped your hand, stepping back with a slow, devilish grin. “Yeah,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “We should.”

You turned toward the door, your heart still racing as you tried to pull yourself together. But even as you reached for the handle, you felt his presence right behind you, his breath ghosting over the back of your neck, sending a shiver through your body.

“I like the dress, by the way,” his tone lighter now but still tinged with the lingering tension.

You glanced back at him. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Rafe chuckled, his eyes glinting as he opened the door for you. You stepped out into the hallway, your head still spinning from the kiss, from the way he looked at you, from everything. 

He followed closely behind, his presence lingering in the space around like shadows. The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and you stepped inside.

“That’s a nice place you’ve got, by the way,” he remarked, his tone casual.

You glanced at him sideways, unwilling to give him more than a passing look. “Thanks, but I’m sure you say that to all the girls you visit uninvited.”

He smiled. “Only the ones I’m marrying.”

“Look at me swooning,” you rolled your eyes as the elevator began its descent, the silence between you settling into something almost comfortable.

The elevator doors opened, and you stepped out quickly, determined to put some space between you and him. But even as you reached the front entrance of your building, Rafe was right behind you, his hand lightly brushing against your back as he guided you toward the black car waiting at the curb.

“Such a gentleman,” you whispered sarcastically.

“I try,” he shot back, opening the car door for you. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he added, “Besides, it’s part of my job as your husband to be a gentleman towards you, right?”

You slid into the car, crossing your legs as you settled into the plush leather seat. “We’re not married yet, you do know that, right?”

“But we will be, so what’s the difference?” he said, slipping into the seat next to you. His arm stretched out along the back of the seat, brushing against your shoulder.

“Well, there’s a big difference actually…” you whispered more to yourself, smoothing down your dress as you glanced out the window, trying to ignore the way his proximity made your pulse quicken.

As the car pulled away from the curb, silence filled the space between you. You weren’t sure if it was the lingering effects of the kiss or the fact that Rafe was sitting so close, but the air felt heavy, charged with something unspoken.

“So, we’re going to La Belle, huh?” you asked, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah, you ever been there before?”

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “The five-star restaurant in New York City where all the celebs go to get photographed? Of course, I’ve been there.”

Rafe grinned. “Perfect spot for our big debut, don’t you think?”

“You did your big one, bravo!” you nodded with a smile.

The car pulled to a stop outside of the restaurant, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight of the flashing lights. Paparazzi filled the sidewalk, their cameras already trained on the car. You took a steadying breath, feeling Rafe’s eyes on you.

“Ready?” he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and something else—concern, maybe.

You let a truthful smile spread across your lips as you met his gaze. “Fuck yeah!”

He laughed, and for a moment, you felt his hand tighten around yours, a subtle gesture of reassurance. The car door opened, and before you could second-guess anything, you felt yourself being gently tugged out into the swirl of flashing cameras, Rafe’s hand warm and steady around yours.

“Rafe! Y/N! Over here!”

“Look this way!”

“Is she your new girlfriend?”

Questions flew around, shouted from all the angles as you made your way toward the entrance. You kept your chin up, smile fixed, the years of modeling training kicking in to keep your expression calm and collected. Meanwhile, Rafe had his arm draped around your waist, his casual confidence almost comforting.

Inside the restaurant, the lighting was dim, intimate—a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The maître led you to a private table in the back corner, and as you slid into your seat, the reality of the situation settled back in.

“I felt like I almost died out there,” you said with a laugh as you glanced at the menu.

“I thought that was fun,” he said, picking up his own menu. “them thinking you’re my girlfriend when you’re about to become my wi—”

Before he could even finish his sentence, a familiar broke through his voice. “Oh, what a surprise, Y/N.”

You froze, looking up to see none other than Alina Ivanov, her polished smile almost too bright as she approached your table. Dressed in a sleek, form-fitting red dress and with her hair swept back in a low chignon, she looked like she belonged here. And, as always, her appearance felt like a subtle reminder of the rivalry she’d always tried to stir between you.

“Alina,” you said, keeping your voice polite but cool. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Rafe’s gaze flickered between you two, sensing the tension immediately. “Friend of yours?”

Alina flashed him a charming smile before turning back to you, her expression a picture of innocence. “We’re worked together a few times,” she said, not missing a beat. “I was just so surprised to see you here. It’s not every day you bring a date to places like this… or just bring dates, period.”

You kept your smile polite, though your jaw was tight. “Unlike you, am I right?”

Her eyes lingered on you for a moment too long before shifting back to Rafe. “And who might you be?”

“Rafe Cameron,” he said, his tone smooth but his gaze sharp.

“I was joking. I know who you are, silly,” Alina said, chuckling softly. “My brothers are huge fans of yours. Always telling me how you’re the one to watch on the court.”

He offered a polite nod. “Glad to hear it.”

There was a beat of silence before Alina leaned in, her eyes glinting as she looked back at you. “So, Y/N, how’s everything going with… your work?” Her tone was light, casual, but the question felt like a dig.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Busy as ever.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” she replied, her smile widening. “Things have been so competitive lately. But I’m sure you’re managing.” She tilted her head, her expression turning almost pitying. “Just let me know if you need any tips on balancing everything. We know what happened the last time that you were too stressed.”

For the first time in a long while, she left you speechless. Words hung on your lips, but nothing came out. A slight tremor shook your body as memories flooded back. Alina mentioning that moment…it was like a punch to the gut. You’d convinced yourself everyone had forgotten, buried it in the past. But of course, she hadn’t. How could she? It was the most humiliating, traumatizing experience of your career.

Rafe noticed the shift immediately. He always looked forward to your sharp retorts, the way you never missed a beat with your quick-witted comebacks. But now? He saw something different—a rawness, a vulnerability he hadn’t seen in you before. His chest tightened, a protective instinct flaring up, urging him to shield you from the wound Alina had reopened. He didn’t know what she meant, didn’t need to know. Your face told him everything.

Before Alina could twist the knife any deeper, Rafe stepped in, his voice low but steady, the edge unmistakable.

"Seems like she’s been doing just fine on her own," he cut in, his gaze hardening. "Haven't you seen her work lately?"

His tone was firm, no hint of the usual lightness. He didn’t look at you—he didn’t need to—but you could feel the solidarity in his words, a silent reassurance that said, I’ve got you.

Alina’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, brushing off his words with a delicate laugh. “Yeah, of course! I mean, I’d be hard-pressed to miss it with her face practically everywhere.” She turned to you, her gaze sharpening just a fraction. “Lucky for you, the timing’s been in your favor, huh?”

You clenched your teeth, trying to stop the trembles in your body. “Luck had nothing to do with it.”

Her smile stretched a little too wide as she inclined her head. “Oh, I totally get it, babe. Well, enjoy your night, you two.” She cast a lingering, almost possessive look at Rafe, her gaze dragging over him as though he were something she intended to claim. “And, Rafe, it was lovely meeting you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon.”

Without missing a beat, Rafe’s gaze stayed anchored on you as he replied, “Doubt it.”

Alina’s expression faltered, again, before she flashed a final smile and melted back into the crowd, her perfume leaving a sickly-sweet trace in her wake. The silence that followed felt dense, almost stifling, and you could still feel the sting of her words hanging in the air like smoke. You exhaled, trying to let go of the tension that had coiled in your shoulders.

Rafe’s gaze shifted, catching yours with an intensity that softened as he studied your face. “She’s... really friendly, isn’t she?” he said with a dry chuckle.

You let out a scoff, unable to resist. “That’s one way to put it.”

Rafe smirked, his eyebrows lifting. “She always this nice?”

“Only when there’s an audience.”

Rafe’s expression shifted, his humor fading into something more thoughtful. He leaned forward, just close enough that you could catch the faint scent of his cologne, and his eyes softened as they searched yours. “If she ever gives you trouble, you let me know. I’ve got no problem shutting her up.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected note of protectiveness in his voice. The way he looked at you was something new, something unfamiliar—and it stirred something you hadn’t anticipated. “Thanks, Cameron, but I can handle the Russian princess.”

“I know you can,” he replied, his voice low, every word rich with unspoken promise. “But you’ve got a husband now to help you with these… things”

His words hung in the air, sparking a warmth in your chest that surprised you. This side of him—serious, protective, and entirely focused on you—was so different from the cocky charm he usually wore like armor. For a moment, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you and the quiet charge humming between your gazes.

A server approached, breaking the lingering silence as they took your orders. Once they left, quiet settled between you and Rafe again, pressing down as the sounds of clinking silverware and murmured conversations filled the space around you. For a moment, you let yourself tune into the chatter of the other tables, realizing how strange it was to be here with someone you hardly knew. Sure, you knew what the media had to say about Rafe Cameron—most people did. 

You thought back to what you actually knew about him. He was 25, a talented star on an NBA team, with a cocky smile. The media painted him as the consummate playboy, a regular at exclusive clubs, and someone who, judging by the number of girls he was photographed kissing, had perfected the art of fleeting connections. And yes, the tabloids had mentioned his dreamy abs.

It was a curious thought: this man across from you was, somehow, your future husband. Yet, aside from the stories, the rumors, and those dark blue eyes that sparked whenever he looked your way, what else did you know about him? You felt a pang of embarrassment.

Maybe it was because of the arrangement, maybe it was the fleeting glances across magazine covers and sports sites, but all you truly knew about Rafe Cameron could barely fill a sentence.

Finally, you couldn’t help it, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table as you studied him. He looked too comfortable, too at ease, like he belonged here. He was the perfect enigma: superstar athlete and notorious heartbreaker, with eyes that seemed to hold every secret and none at all.

“So, um, Rafe, what do you know about me?”

He stilled, his easygoing expression faltering for a second. You’d caught him off guard. “What do I know about you?” his fingers wrapped around the glass, as he searched for your face. “I mean, I know what people say. What I’ve seen.”

You tilted your head, waiting. “Which is?”

“That you’re the golden girl, flawless. Beautiful and nice, sure, but… it’s more than that,” his eyes traced your face, almost tender, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “People can’t help but be in awe of you.”

A quiet breath escaped you, surprised by the way his words lingered, settling like an unexpected weight in your chest. Awe of you—it wasn’t something anyone had ever said to your face, and it sounded both charming and absurd coming from him. But something about the way he said it made you pause. You couldn’t tell if he was mocking you or if, perhaps, he actually meant it.

“So, I’m a tabloid fantasy, then?” you teased softly, trying to keep the edge of doubt in your voice.

He chuckled, but his gaze remained steady, as if searching for something hidden beneath your smile. “No, you’re more than that,” he murmured. “You’re the woman everyone wants to know, but it seems like nobody really does. Even some of my teammates can’t stop talking about you… some of them are practically in love with you. They think you’re beautiful and—”

“And would you agree?” you prompted, you didn’t why you asked. You didn’t care what he thought of you.

He hesitated, his eyes tracing over your features in a way that felt too intimate for someone you’d barely spent any time with. “You're not bad, but if you toned down the attitude and that smart mouth of yours, I might just find you beautiful.” You laughed and playfully flipped him off, earning a chuckle from him. But then his expression shifted, and he grew serious again. “But you’re nice, that’s what I wanted to say. Like, actually nice. Not the superficial stuff everyone says to stay in the good graces of the media… probably like that Alina girl who definitely pretends to be nice.”

You scoffed, but your heart betrayed you, thudding a little faster under his gaze. “Nice? You think I’m nice?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. His eyes moved slowly over your face, as if trying to peek back a layer, to see the person beneath the perfect photos and poised interviews. “You… you’ve got more edge than what people think, but still nice, you know.”

His confidence was intoxicating, an irresistible blend of cockiness and charm that made it nearly impossible to ignore the urge to close the distance between you and kiss him senseless. Tonight, he looked ridiculously good—his light yellow dress shirt with a crisp white collar, sleeves rolled up to his forearms in a way that only made you rub your thighs together. The way his black trousers hugged his figure and the subtle shine of his shine only added to the magnetic pull drawing you towards him.

A quiet stretched between you, heavy with unspoken tension, his words lingering in the air. He leaned back just enough, his guarded expression softened by the way his gaze stayed on you. “But what about you?” he asked, voice low and smooth. “What do you know about me, baby?”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, watching him with newfound curiosity. “Honestly? Not much,” you admitted. “I know you’re 25, a famous basketball star,” you narrowed your eyes, watching the way his intense gaze never wavered from you. “You’re cocky—maybe a bit too cocky sometimes—and you love pushing people’s buttons. Especially mine. You probably like it, though, huh? Seeing how we'll react.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Go on…”

“And you’re a bit of a party animal. From all the photos out there, it seems like you’ve got a new girl on your arm every week. But despite that, you’re fiercely dedicated to your sport—and you’re damn good at it. The media practically worships every move you make on the court. That’s all I have on you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a glint of intrigue in his eyes as he leaned in, again. “And what’s your conclusion?” he asked, voice lower, as if this moment was just for the two of you.

“Not much,” you replied with a slight shrug. “I don’t know anything about you, Rafe—only the version everyone else sees.”

He breathed out slowly, his expression softening as he thought about your words. “So, we’re both just media fantasies,” he said, voice a quiet murmur. His fingers brushed against yours, the contact so subtle yet electric, igniting warmth that raced up your arm and made your heart pound a little faster.

“Maybe we are…” you replied softly, glancing down at his hand resting near yours on the table, close enough to close the gap between you. “But I guess if we’re planning on getting married and all, we should probably learn a bit more about each other, don’t you think?”

“Right.” His gaze softened, and a playful gleam flickered in his eyes. “So, what do you want to know?”

You tilted your head, unable to keep the teasing edge from your voice. “Honestly? If it were up to me, I’d probably prefer not to know a thing about you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t believe no one ever warned me about that smart mouth of yours. Haven’t seen a single headline on it.”

A smirk spread across your lips. “I’m saving it for my husband,” you replied sweetly, watching his expression shift, a spark of something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

“Future husband,” he corrected with a soft smile, as if savoring the words.

“Future husband, that’s right,” you nodded. “So… I guess since we’re supposed to be newly dating, we should start with the basics, right? You know, things like your favorite color, your favorite movie…”

"That makes sense. So, my favorite color’s green, but not just any green—I’m talking deep green, like the kind you see in plants," he rambled. "And I guess my favorite movie’s probably ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’—"

"Oh, my God! Liking that movie is such a douchey choice," you teased, and he laughed along.

"Alright, then—what's your favorite movie, Miss Judgey McJudgerson?"

"I'm not judging—" he shot you a look and you sighed, nodding in surrender. "Alright, fine, maybe I judged a little. But can you blame me? Anyway," you continued, a spark of excitement in your tone, "a movie I can watch on repeat? ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’. And don't even think about making fun of it, because it’s honestly a masterpiece."

He tilted his head, feigning offense. "Oh, so ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ isn’t a masterpiece? Is that what you're saying?"

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you leaned back. "Look, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying all the jerks are obsessed with that movie."

His smirk grew, eyes glinting with challenge. "The jerks, huh?" His brows raised, his gaze holding yours. "So, I’m a jerk?"

You shrugged with a mischievous smile. "If the shoe fits."

“So,” he said, “you’re telling me my taste in movies is a red flag?”

You smirked, meeting his gaze. “I mean, ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ is practically a requirement for men with commitment issues. It’s the kind of movie someone watches to feel cool, you know?”

“Ouch.” He raised his glass, looking amused. “So what does ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’ say about you? That you’re a sucker for impossible relationships and grand romantic gestures?”

You feigned sigh, taking the glass of wine in your hands. “Maybe. Or maybe it just says I have taste,” you glanced at him over the rim of your glass, a smile teasing at the corners of your mouth. 

“Alright, alright. Enough on how shitty my taste in movies is,” he moved his hands dismissively. “Let’s focus on whether the ‘golden girl’ is a hopeless romantic. Are you?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“Your husband’s asking.”

You held yourself back from correcting him, and just scoffed. “I wouldn’t go that far. I just have a soft spot for movies with good storytelling, good humor, and good looking white boys.”

“You know, I might actually have a soft side for sappy movies too,” he shot back, his smile widening.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Right, and I’m the fucking queen of England.”

“What? Why? I could like them, you know.”

“Rafe, I bet you’d hate anything with a happy ending—”

“Holy shit! Rafe! My fucking dude on a date?”

The moment shattered as a voice cut through the air, loud and incredulous. Both of you turned your heads to see a tall blond guy wavering through tables with a grin as wide as the room itself.

“Topper,” Rafe muttered with a sigh and a look that bordered on agony.

“Rafe, my guy!” Topper laughed, eyes flickering between the two of you in delight. “I cannot believe my eyes. You—on a date? And with her?” He gestured to you, his excitement barely contained. “No offense, beautiful, but I thought Rafe’s only serious relationship was with basketball. You’re like a mythical creature right now.”

You fought back a laugh as Rafe shot Topper a glare, but the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“Top,” he sighed, “aren’t you supposed to be somewhere? Literally anywhere else?”

“Oh, hell no. This is a one-in-a-million chance. Besides, I have to see this through. Rafe Cameron actually out with a woman he didn’t meet at a club? Man, this is incredible.”

Rafe pressed his fingers to his temples, visibly restraining himself from shoving his teammate out. “I swear, I’m this close to throwing you out of here.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Topper said, clapping him on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. “Don’t be like that! I mean, I thought you were incapable of going on a real date, and here you are, actually acting all gentlemanly.” He glanced at you with a grin. “So, what’s it like dating Rafe? Has he tried any of his classic lines yet?”

You shrugged with a grin of your own. “If by classic lines, you mean being generally annoying? Then yes.”

Rafe raised his eyebrow, feigning offense. “Annoying? Really?”

“Am I wrong?” You met his gaze head-on, smirking. “Every time you speak, you’re trying to get under my skin—”

“Because I want to see what that smart mouth of yours will say back to me.”

Topper laughed, completely entertained, while you just shook your head, trying not to laugh. “So, I was right. You love riling people up just to see their reactions.”

He shook his head, eyes glinting. “Not people, sweetheart. Just you.”

Your cheeks warmed despite yourself, caught off guard by his focus. You quickly recovered, scoffing, “Oh, and that’s my cue to swoon, right?”

Rafe leaned back, his smirk victorious. “Whatever works.”

Topper threw his head back, laughing, as if he’d just won the best seat at the theater. “Oh, this is good. You guys… yeah, I’m getting popcorn next time.”

Rafe gave his friend one last pointed look, his eyes practically daring his friend to stick around. “I’m serious, Top. I’m here on an actual date, so if you want to keep your teeth intact, I’d suggest moving along.”

Topper raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning ear-to-ear. “Alrighty. But I’ve gotta say, I never thought I’d see the day you’d settle down—especially with someone who can actually keep you in line,” he gave you a wink. “Good luck, beautiful. You’ll need it with this one.”

With a final smile and a nod to you, Topper sauntered away, glancing back with an amused shake of his head as he left.

Rafe turned back to you, letting out an exasperated breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about him. Subtlety isn’t exactly his strong suit.”

You grinned. “Seems like he knows you pretty well, though. I’m actually surprised he didn’t say more.”

“Top’s just not used to seeing me on a date, that’s all. He’s right, though… this isn’t my usual scene,” his eyes traced over your face, lingering on the way you smiled. “But I’m getting married, so I gotta get used to it.”

The server returned with your orders, interrupting the moment. Rafe took a bite of his food and you did the same, each of you eating in a silence as the tension between you grew stronger. Finally, he spoke.

“So, back to this hopeless romantic thing you swear you’re not,” he began, his voice light but his gaze steady. “You say you’re not, but you can’t stop watching ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’. Are you telling me you don’t want some big, dramatic love story? A guy standing in the rain, begging for a second chance?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off, though his question struck a nerve. “I mean… who wouldn’t want that? But not everyone’s looking for a grand gesture. Some of us just want someone real.”

A flicker of something flashed in his eyes. “Real, huh? So you’re looking for real?”

“Of course. That’s all anyone really wants, right?” You felt vulnerable, caught off guard by his interest in something deeper. “But real is hard to come by… especially when you’re both in the spotlight.”

Rafe’s smirk faded, and for a moment, he looked down, almost as if he were weighing your words. When he looked back up, his expression was softer, thoughtful in a way that felt almost too intimate for a first date. “Maybe that’s something we have in common then.”

Surprised, you blinked, watching as he traced the rim of his glass absently. You hadn’t expected him to say that. The Rafe you knew from headlines and public appearances was never the reflective type. And yet, here he was, letting down his guard, even if just a tiny bit.

“So, the basketball star has a soft side?” you teased, unable to resist breaking the tension. “Who would’ve guessed?”

His lips curved into a grin, smoldering. “Don’t go spreading that around. Gotta keep some mystery.”

You both continued eating in a comfortable rhythm, making light conversation about inconsequential things—places you’d been, places you still wanted to see. Each laugh that slipped out came a little easier, every smile more relaxed as you both unwound.

As the last plates were cleared and Rafe paid, you glanced over his shoulder and noticed a familiar face in the back of the restaurant. Alina Ivanov, was seated at a nearby table, staring at you both with a smirk that sent a chill down your spine. Instinctively, you looked away, pulse spiking with a mixture of irritation and unease. It felt as though you were being watched through a magnifying glass, judged, evaluated, and silently torn apart.

Rafe’s gaze followed yours, and his hand found the small of your back as he leaned in. “Don’t mind her. Let’s get out of here,” he said quietly, his voice a reassuring warmth in the sudden chill. He guided you to the door, ignoring Alina’s gaze as he led you out into the cool night air.

Outside, the city hummed around you, and Rafe’s hand lingered at your back, grounding you. The air was a welcome relief, a quiet reprieve from the intensity of the restaurant. When you reached his car, he opened the door for you, his gaze lingering on you with an unreadable intensity before he rounded the car to the driver’s side. It was a small gesture, yet oddly grounding, as if he knew exactly when to offer support without crowding you.

(The chauffeur left and let them the car.)

The car ride was a soft blur of city lights, fading into a serene silence. You leaned against the window, feeling the cool glass against your skin as you stared at the passing streets, bright with shop lights and late-night wanderers. But your mind wandered far from New York.

You thought of home—your home country, the land you hadn’t seen in far too long. Your heart ached for the family you had left behind, a pain that had quietly settled within you. You hadn’t been the perfect daughter, nor the obedient child they had wanted, but you missed them, missed your siblings. You wondered what they’d think if they saw you now—would they be proud? Or would they find this new life of yours too far from the one you left behind?

Lost in thought, you barely noticed the car slowing to a stop until Rafe’s voice broke the silence. “We’re here.”

Startled, you lifted your head, blinking as you recognized the familiar building. The faint neon sign from the bodega down the street cast a soft glow, painting the pavement in shades of blue and pink. You glanced at Rafe, his face softened in the gentle light, a calm patience in his expression as he looked at you.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said quietly, feeling a strange reluctance to leave the moment behind.

His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Anytime.” The two syllables held an unspoken promise, a rare gentleness that seemed almost out of place for him. He paused, watching you as if he wanted to say something more, but he merely gave a slight nod, lips curling in a faint smile.

You reached for the door, but his voice made you pause. “Hey.”

You turned, finding his face close, the space between you shrinking as his fingers brushed lightly against your cheek, catching you by surprise. His touch was soft, his thumb grazing over your cheekbone with an unexpected tenderness. His hand lingered, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek—a feather-light touch that sent warmth spiraling through you.

The kiss lasted just a moment, yet it was enough to make your heart race, to make you painfully aware of every point of contact. His breath fanned across your skin, and you could feel the faint scratch of stubble against your cheek. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, the usual cockiness tempered with something softer, something far more real.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, a small smile ghosting his lips.

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Goodnight, Cameron,” you managed, feeling the warmth still lingering on your cheek, the phantom sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin.

As you stepped out of the car, you looked back once more to see him watching you, that familiar smirk playing on his lips but softened by something else, something deeper you couldn’t place. You gave a small wave, trying not to overthink the moment as he pulled away, leaving you standing in the quiet night, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your skin.

chapter four

[temiizpalace]

☆┊DRESS TO IMPRESS!

SUMMARY: playing dress to impress with him!

CHARACTERS: all dorms + others

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: none

NOTES: i feel so bad for having people with requests wait so long but im losing ideas and idk what to write 😭😭😭 please bear with me event requesters,,,,, ik i suck at this

reader gender is not mentioned, reader not specified to be yuu

VERY COMPETITIVE

if he catches you trolling it’s on sight. he takes this game very seriously, and refuses to get anything lower than 3rd. when you play together and ask to duo, he carries. you’ll see him with the most impressive and beautiful outfit you’ve ever seen and watch him lose his mind when he gets 5th. he spams poses, like in full concentration mode. also a very harsh critic. if he sees you off theme it’s an immediate 1 star, no exceptions. anytime he critiques your outfit you feel like an office worker with an overly harsh boss that demands better. he also probably has VIP. and beef with 10 year olds. (so think of when caseoh plays, but less yelling)

riddle, azul, jamil, vil, rollo

PLAYED IT AS A JOKE : IS NOW HOOKED

at first he thought it was just a dumb and silly dress up game for girls.. boy was he wrong. when he first played with you, he was expecting to hate this game to its core. he was a troller at first, purposefully making dumb outfits that don’t even match, barely adding anything to his outfit at all. suddenly, something in his mind flipped, and now he’s addicted. you’ll catch him sometimes playing his free time, teasing someone like him for playing a dress up game. not that you have room to talk. duos are fun, he likes being partners with you. he’s probably the kind of guy to vote everyone one star and then vote you five, but he expects five stars in return.

deuce, ruggie, epel, idia, skully j. graves

LOVES THE GAME

he’s played this before, he loves it! dressing up in cute outfits and watching other people dress up in cute outfits? why wouldn’t he play? and to play with you? that’s even better! wouldn’t be as competitive as the first category, but does take the game seriously. he doesn’t despise trolls, actually laughs at them sometimes. he does find it unfair they make the podium sometimes, but it’s really just a game. he loves duoing with you and wearing matching outfits, absolutely adorable! he either votes pretty fairly or votes everyone five stars depending on who they are. please play more with him, he loves this game!

cater, kalim, rook, ortho, lilia, neige

NOT THAT INTERESTED

what’s the appeal to it? it’s just playing dress up, nothing special. he’ll play once in awhile with you, but don’t expect it to be a regular thing. it’s just not his cup of tea. obviously since he doesn’t play often, his outfits are subpar. nothing podium worthy. votes pretty fairly, giving criticism and critique on other people’s outfits (though his aren’t that much better). he doesn’t mind being a duo with you, but you definitely carry. personally he thinks trollers are ruining the game and making it annoying for those who play religiously. overall, just a dress up game. would play but only if you play too.

trey, leona, jack, sebek, silver

THE TROLLER

is that one guy who has nothing on their character and walks onto the stage with no hair or makeup. skin tone is still at the default, colors on the clothes are unchanged, and it’s all on purpose too! would dress up in dumb outfits for a completely different theme and loves watching people argue about it in the chat. votes everybody one star because they’re just silly like that! absolutely cackles if he gets on the podium and loves watching the server get into fights about it. you don’t duo with him, you know better. loved playing with you, but it doesn’t seem the feeling is mutual.

ace, jade, floyd, che’nya

HOW TO POWER HANDHELD DEVICE

teach him how to use a phone first. doesn’t know how to log in to his account. when he joins the game, poor baby kept running into walls trying to put on shoes. outfits are usually incomplete or unchanged because he doesn’t know how to take off accessories or how to put them on. votes fair enough, but doesn’t ever make the podium. if you ask to duo, you’ll have to teach him cause he also doesn’t know about that either. basically just a big man baby who needs help using technology for the first time.

malleus

A/N: obsessed with this game lately (idia would know all the lana lore)

date published: 10/10/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[ghettogirly]

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒!

authors note: please reblog and like so others can see! Hope you enjoy!!

[🕷️] 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄:

🕷️ - He would be very keen on spending time together one on one especially during his time in the cartel where it’s unknown if there will be another tomorrow.

🕷️- I think he would love staying inside his villa with you and enjoying a nice home meal while watching a movie.

🕷️- He would love giving you self defence lessons and training you in the gym, especially since that’s his element. This man would have a whole training and diet plan already made for you.

🕷️- Armando would try take you out every now and then, maybe to go shopping or for a nice dinner just to give you a feeling of a relatively normal life. He wouldn’t do this often though, probably only doing this for anniversaries as he wouldn’t want to place you in any danger.

🕷️- He would enjoy coming back home after some business he had to handle whether that was securing a deal or carrying out an execution, to see you sleeping in your shared bed. This would give him a sense of security and also spend some quality time of sleeping together.

[🕷️] 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇:

🕷️- He would not be someone to do public display of affection. The thought of someone seeing him be vulnerable with you would probably cause trouble.

🕷️- The only display of affection he would do would be longing stares at you if you walk past him, sneaky winks or he would hold your fingertips as you talk to him, making sure to hold eye contact with you.

🕷️- It would be a struggle at first to make him initiate affection as he grew up without parents. An incarcerated mother and a dad he grew up to hate? A whole lot of issues.

🕷️- However, he would eventually warm up to the idea.

🕷️-Behind closed doors, he would love wrapping his arms around you and hugging you as it gives him the satisfaction of protecting you.

🕷️- He would also love giving you slow, passionate kisses. (depending on his mood) The type to make you and him both, longing for more.

🕷️- however if he’s angry, you already know he’s going to be grabbing your face and forcing you into a heated, passionate kiss. His hands exploring your body as he releases his frustrations.

[🕷️] 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

🕷️- He would openly compliment your superficial things such as your clothes, hair or makeup.

🕷️- However, getting something beneath the surface level for him would be tough.

🕷️- He’s overly critical and cynical of the world, believing evil things happen to everyone and that you never really know someone’s true self.

🕷️- However, his perception quickly changed when he met you.

🕷️- You showed him something different, a breath of fresh air. He loved the way you carried yourself, holding yourself with grace but not hesitant to assert yourself.

🕷️- One day he would say, “I really admire your character baby.”

🕷️- You would look at him in shock, not hearing those words before and quite frankly caught off guard at his sensitive words. Nevertheless you would smile and reply, “I learnt it all from you.”

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

🕷️- This wouldn’t really be a big one for him.

🕷️- I believe he would expect you to be able to do things for yourself, he wouldn’t be able to care for you, himself and his cartel as well. He would get frustrated at your lack of ability to be able to care for yourself.

🕷️- However, if you ever get hurt or sick you can bet on it that he’s taking care of you.

🕷️- He wouldn’t let anyone help you, only him.

🕷️- He would change your dressings or help you take your medication. Even bring you soup for your sore throat.

🕷️- He would help clean up around the bedroom and help you do basic tasks again.

🕷️- He has maids for the rest, so what’s the point.

[🕷️] 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆:

🕷️- Armando wouldn’t really get you surprise gifts, he would much prefer to give you money and allow you to buy your own.

🕷️- He would surprise you with an amount of cash and then you can buy what you want.

🕷️- Sometimes he’ll come back with a new necklace for you that has his initials or the name of his cartel, just to let other know that you’re claimed.

🕷️- If it was your birthday, you can bet the whole mansion would be decorated and there would be a private jet awaiting you, ready to take you on a holiday resort.

[happysparklingshadows]

𝙱𝚐3 𝙻𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜 ✿ 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎

Note: I love you all for your support for my Bg3 headcannons and I want to let everyone know my requests are open (also open for TLOU and Yellowjackets)!! Also, comment if you would like to be added to the bg3 taglist! I love you all!

Lae’zel

-She finds it ridiculous when the two of you stumble into a pleasure house.

-She hates outward displays of desperation for sex or yearning outside of the person you are trying to lay with. She was a steel face as your party looked around the rows of items. She is not interested in any of them.

-behind her back, you couldn’t get anything without a sharp look sent your way. There are more critical things to do instead of istiks desperate need for a flesh bond.

-You are scared to tell her you had bought a strap-on. It wasn’t anything crazy, but it was just something that had tickled the back of your head. So, you saved it for the right moment for you to introduce something new to your sex life with your overly serious githyanki lover.

-After a hard day of fighting, covered in sweat, blood, and dirt. She came to you. Her eyes are sharply intense as she looks over your form. She says, “I want to lick every inch of your skin of your scent. Tell me, do you tease me on purpose or just to make my hunger for you to grow?”

-You smile and play coy, knowing now that it does rile up Lae’zel, and say, “I am guessing I am not bathing tonight?”

-“No.” Lae’zel says as she holds her arms across her chest. She stares you down and doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t have to.

-So, you slip away and grab your bag whenever everyone is asleep. When you reach her, she gives you a stern look of confusion and dislike at you doing something unexpected.

-You sit down beside the bag and pull it out. You explain to Lae’zel that it is just for sex and that it is only needed to have sex differently.

-“Am I not pleasurable enough for you, then?” She asks in a defensive tone of venom, and you just smile and look up to her from your spot.

-“No, the opposite. I wanted to know how it would feel if you had a penis.”

-“But I don’t.” ????

-You chuckle as you look up to her, “Have you never wondered what it would be like if you could be inside me? Like, claim me differently, my champion?”

-The comment of claiming clicked in her mind. She insisted she would be wearing it and using it on you.

-You help her put it on when she gets frustrated with the straps.

-Lae’zel doesn’t even let up for a moment after hearing the whimper out of your mouth when she entered you. It was like something primal clicked in her head. She was going to claim your body and soul.

-Lae’zel licks your neck and chest with a soft growl, her hips slapping into yours without mercy. She hums low, moans in her breath as she thrusts into you. Your hands tangled into her hair and small braids, your breasts push against her lips as your back aches.

-Lae’zel becomes obsessed with the sounds out of your mouth. She holds your head down as she looks over your face intensely when you cum. She nearly cums against the strap when your name comes out in a shuttered breath.

-Lae’zel fucks you with the strap that night until the night sky crawled its way out of the sky. She groans at the fact she has to stop fucking you. She smells herself and you all in the air.

-Lae’zel will steal the strap and keep it with her. She may or may not smell it when she wants to smell you when you aren’t near.

-Lae’zel will not be using the strap often, but she will use it when she wants to have a little more dominance over you. To show you that she was the source of every bruise and ache in your body.

-Her strap would be flesh-colored, or she would have never had it near her body. What do you mean that she can have a glittery purple strap???

-She is a Mean Dom who praises your good behavior. She is always razor-focused, always on top of everything in her life, and ready for battle at a moment's notice. She has no problem correcting you or making you understand the consequences of subordinates. Expect to have a few marks on your way out.

Karlach

-The second she enters the pleasure house with the party, she wanders off on her own. Searching, wondering, fantasizing. She doesn’t want to get too pent up, so she leaves a little earlier than you do, not noticing you seeing her eye the strap on with blush on her cheeks.

-A devilish thought came to mind, and you got the one she was eyeing. It was a larger one that made you blush at the thought of it being stuffed inside you.

-But, because Karlach and you can’t have sex until her next upgrade and a miracle, the strap is long forgotten in your crest.

-Once Karlach got her upgrade, IT. WAS. POUND. CITY!

-You and Karlach fucked in your tent, on the tent, by the campfire, by the campfire with your friends around you (very difficult to be quiet), in the river, in ruins, in the forest. There wasn’t a moment that went by that Karlach’s hands were not trying to touch you.

-One night, while eating dinner at the party, you remembered what you had bought a few weeks earlier. You stay quiet as a blush comes over your face at the memory.

-When everyone retired to their tents, you entered your shared tent to find her humming away to a love song and sharpening her axe.

-“Hey, soldier, I have been waiting for you all day.” She puts down her axe with a great smile to look at you. She notices the way you coyly stand. She leans back on the tent wall with a slight smirk growing, “What brings you around?”

-You melt to her face immediately and crawl closer to her with a devilish smile, “I missed you today. I wanted to give you something.” You say as you crawl in between Karlach’s legs. Inches away from their lips.

-“Oh yeah, baby, what’s that?” Karlach asks, clearly lusting after you again, and watches you intently.

-You run a finger up her stomach and to her heart. It burned like a cup of hot water, and you let your eyes worship the woman you love. “You remember when we went to that pleasure house?”

-Karlach’s breath hitches when she feels you touch her. She only says shakily, “Yeah?”

-“Well, I noticed what you were eyeing and bought it. I was wondering if you wanted to use it on me?” With your eyes meeting her, you asked her, and your hand planted itself on her strong shoulder.

-The same shoulder you hold on her for dear life as she fucks you standing up with the strap. She trusts you with the growls she uses in battle. She ferally fucks you as you cling onto her with yelping moans.

-Karlach looks down to see the black strap disappear into you like a magic trick. She had a big, goofy smile on her face.

-Karlach has you screaming, writhing, and desperate. You become lust drunk quickly, even have a moment where you just stare at her in reverence in the way she fucks you to bliss.

-Karlach didn’t know her strength most of the time with you and didn’t mean to manhandle you when she did. You never complained, though. You liked the feeling of her effortlessly lifting you up and down with her biceps under your thighs, or the way her hand completely covered your throat if she held you there, or when she grabbed your chin firmly to kiss you.

-“Gods, I fucking love you- I am never letting you go! Fuck baby, look at me like that.”

-Karlach cums the moment you start to shake when your climax approaches. She shivers and ruts the strap into you like she was trying to push cum out of it.

-You are a writhing mess for her as you are placed on the floor, your toes still curling even after they have left your body. It was a delicious feeling. You bite your lip as she stares down at you, still standing and panting. The strap still in the air.

-“Did I do alright?” She asked. She wiped the sweat from her brow.

-You look up at her towering form and massive fake cock staring you down and say, “Karlach, you are a fucking amazing. Please- Please, will you fuck me again?”

-And she did.

-That was the night Karlach discovered she was the STRAP GOD.

-Karlach would get a big black strap if she had any day in what she wanted. She wanted something that seemed to fit her body, which happened to be big.

Shadowheart

-Shadowheart blushes when she comes inside the pleasure house with you and sees all the items for sale.

-She looks on with wonder and excitement at items for pain that caused pleasure. Nipple clamps, bondage rope of satin and silk, or wands made for shocking a person with a command word. It was all interesting to her, although she kept calm as she walked beside you.

-You look at her, and she meets your eyes silently. Your eyes point to a strap-on and back at her. You secretly speak to her about your wants.

-Shadowheart blushes and looks back at you. You can tell she says yes back to you. She loved this new secret language you two have created to speak intimately in public.

-You sneakily buy the strap-on without Lae’zel or Astarian noticing, keeping this secret for her. Which she dramatically approves of.

-You two act as though nothing has happened, and it is an ordinary day, an average day of adventuring through your quest. Shadowheart watched your behind all day, wondering what taking you from the back would be like. It excited her and made her happy.

-The day ended with conversation and planning the next move, where you will go tomorrow, and who to kill. You finally come over to her tent.

-Shadowheart smiles and asks, “I have been waiting for you this evening. Do I have you to myself now?”

-You didn’t even say anything else before you kissed her lips. You softly push the two of you into your shared tent and want to use this now. The anticipation was killing you.

-The two of you make out on the sheets of the ground passionately, but you two fail to stop kissing each other when you move to open your bag.

-Shadowheart surprisingly wants to use it on you first as she takes it from your hands and puts it on herself. She looks down at you as she puts herself together, “I want to have you. First, I want to see your face twist for me,” she says as she slowly lowers to kiss you again.

-She flipped you around out of nowhere. As she grabbed onto your hips, she kissed the back of your neck. She rubs herself against you as she gently enters you from behind.

-She watched in fascination at the way your ass jiggled and bounced with her thrusts, she liked the way your thighs slapped against hers, and she could just watch it all. Watching your wetness spread on your cheeks and thighs as she fucks you passionately.

-When you have cummed on the fake cock, she kisses your neck and begs for you to do the same. She takes it off, helps you put it on yourself, and lays it down for you to be on top of her. You passionately kiss her and fuck her back as her soft moans filled the tent.

-You take turns with the strap; sometimes it’s her using it, or you are using it on her. It was a reoccurring character in your sheets, and it becomes beloved very quickly upon both of your first climaxes with it together.

-Shadowheart would get a purple glittery strap if she had any day in it because it was simply pretty and did its job while being pretty.

Minthara

-Minthara doesn’t react much to the pleasure house or the inside items. She glanced over the items with a carefree attitude that made your heart beat fast in your chest for some reason. She surprises you by asking the employee to let her see this item beyond the display case, and she, without shame, “(Y/n), come here.” She softly orders in front of your party. You blush softly as you do as she commands, and she asks to see the different sizes and colors.

-Minthara Baenre was raised to be a proud Matron of Menzoberranzan and has the qualities similar to nobility of Faerûn, She was bold with her sexuality and desires. She actuallly gets a kick out of embarrassing you in a manner like this, to her it was amusing how people without status acts towards sex.

-She asks you for the size you would like and smirks as she asks for one a size bigger. She picked a deep red strap with satin ropes and added it to her bag like it was nothing at all. You leave the interaction and shop with heat pooling in between your thighs.

-Minthara doesn’t waste time with her new item. She waits for that night. It doesn’t matter what happened or what needs to be discussed with the party members, and you need to gag on her cock.

-Minthara waits in your shared tent and has it proudly on herself, adjusting the straps as you walk in.

-she has you on your knees in obedience and has her hands running through your hair as she thrusts into your mouth to see how it looks.

-Minthara says, “Such a good lover, so obedient with those eyes looking at me, just like that.” As she bucks her hips into your open mouth.

-Minthara has you propped in her lap in a death grip on your hips, thrusting up into you with the strap. Minthara had her eyes fixated on your face, watching it twist in helpless pleasure to her manhandling.

-Minthara kisses and sucks on your breasts as she listens to you writhe. She wanted to be covered in you, wanted to be stained in you, forever scarred by your love and lust.

-Minthara is the queen of overstimulated and mocking pouts, “I know, Ust-nor, I know. You got a little more to give me. I want it.”

-Minthara has you cum on the strap a total of four times before she feels settled and ready to let you off her strap. But she would steal one more after seeing your spent face as you lazily lay on the pillows of your bedroll

-Minthara happily cuddles you after. She loves you intensely and lays her head on your chest. She pets your body tenderly as she whispers to you about how well you did, how powerful she feels after, and how the two of you will dominate the under dark hand in hand.

-There is no surprise that Minthara is a brutal mean dom without mercy. She likes to be in power and be actively

[longing-for-rain]

Katara and the “Mom Friend” Trope

Both in-universe and among fans, Katara has always been identified as the “mom friend.” While often used as a joke, the trope does reveal a deeper and more tragic aspect of Katara’s character: the way the war has forced her to grow up quickly and take on a parental role at a young age.

This is a frequently misunderstood part of Katara’s character, despite it being central to her arc. Since the show first aired, Katara has been the butt of many jokes and has always been one of the most hated characters by fans. From tasteless jokes about how she talks about the loss of her mother too much to accusations of being too emotional and bossy, Katara’s character has always been under attack by fans.

In past years, and still in certain parts of the internet, this behavior was blatant, but lately I’ve noticed a more subtle spin on this. As it becomes slightly less socially acceptable to say blatantly misogynistic things about female characters—particularly here on tumblr—I’ve noticed fans express the same negative sentiments about Katara, but dressed up to appear more progressive. The most common way I see this sentiment expressed is fans downplaying Katara’s role as “team mom” and trying to make it seem as if Katara is less mature and responsible than she really is.

Of course, these individuals would have you believe that their reasoning for these opinions is that they really care so much about Katara and want to “let her be a kid.” But in reality, when you ignore the way that Katara is forced into a parental role in canon, you also ignore and disregard the context for many of her character traits, leading into the accusations of her being bossy and overly emotional that I mentioned earlier. It erases, and therefore minimizes, a huge source of stress and trauma that weighs on Katara throughout the series.

The idea that Katara fans created the concept of her being a “mom friend” is ridiculous. This is mentioned so much in canon that it’s practically a running joke. Toph accuses Katara of acting like everyone’s mom in The Chase. A similar conflict arises again in The Runaway, when Sokka even admits that he thinks of Katara as a mother figure, despite him being her older brother.

Katara seems pretty hurt by this too, and it’s still never properly addressed again.

In The Headband, Katara actually pretends to be Aang’s mother.

And looking at everything we know about Katara, it’s very clear how she assumed this role. Think about what she says in the exposition of the entire show:

Katara: Ever since mom died, I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier! I even wash all the clothes! Have you ever smelled your dirty socks?

The moment Katara is introduced, the audience is given a critical piece of information about Katara—that she’s lost her mother and essentially assumed her role. While Sokka is more or less playing and occasionally hunting (we hardly ever see him do this in canon by the way), Katara is doing the overlooked, underappreciated labor that keeps everything moving. There is a great post here by @theotterpenguin that details this and the inherent misogyny in devaluing the kind of work Katara does, and how many fans tend to do this.

This trend continues throughout the course of the show. Katara is always the voice of reason who keeps things moving. She reigns in Sokka and Aang, who are constantly getting themselves into trouble.

There are countless examples, but to name a few:

As early as The Warriors of Kyoshi, she’s trying to get Aang to behave and not endanger himself to look cool. And having him mouth off when she gently suggests that he help with a minor chore.

In The Storm, Katara warns Sokka not to take a risky job, which he ignores and nearly gets himself killed.

In The Blue Spirit, Katara is trying the whole time to do something productive via Momo, remaining vigilant despite the sickness wearing her down.

In The Chase, being the one to politely ask Toph to help out, and honestly doing a pretty good job of keeping her cool as long as she did.

The entirety of The Desert episode. While everyone else was drugged up, hopeless, and even outright hostile, Katara kept everything moving and saved everyone’s lives.

Whenever Aang goes into the Avatar State, it’s always Katara tasked with calming him down, despite how dangerous and volatile the Avatar State is when not properly controlled.

Additionally, there are so many small details that add to this picture. Katara is always the one we see getting food, preparing food, doing chores, everything of that nature. Everyone else would be completely lost without her.

And sadly, this is something never properly addressed by the narrative nor acknowledged by fans. There is a great post here by @ecoterrorist-katara explaining the tragedy in this. Katara is constantly burdened with the responsibility of keeping everything moving and doing the invisible labor that is never appreciated but keeps everyone moving, which is the reason why she’s viewed as being in a maternal role. Because that’s what she very clearly is to her friends.

This really wasn’t meant to be a ship related post, but it is kind of the elephant in the room here. I know a lot of the motivation in downplaying Katara’s “mom friend” role stems from shipping discourse, in particular, the hatred of the idea of Katara and Zuko acting as team parents. Some people associate Momtara as a Zutara trope and as a result, relentlessly bash it as they do anything even tangentially related to Zutara. But did you ever consider why it’s a Zutara trope? Because a lot of fans recognize everything I mentioned previously, and enjoy the idea of someone helping to share that responsibility. Sokka, Aang, and Toph clearly didn’t, so that leaves…guess who.

Zuko: You should get some rest. We'll be there in a few hours. You'll need all your strength.

It’s tiring seeing this trend from people who clearly don’t care about Katara or her character. Sure, you might try to act like you’re downplaying Katara’s maternal role and how a huge part of her canon character was the war forcing her to assume that role out of “wanting her to be a kid” but you really aren’t that different from more blatantly misogynistic fans who call her immature and annoying. You don’t recognize or respect the work she’s constantly putting in to protect those around her, and then you have the audacity to get mad at fans of Katara who actually like the idea of someone taking some of that burden off of her shoulders?

Same Katara hate, different font. She is forced into this material role, and refusing to acknowledge this is disrespectful not just to Katara’s character, but all the real life women and girls forced into similar roles who see themselves in Katara.

[unboundprompts]

Thank you so much for your blog! It's so neatly organized, it's lovely to read. It takes a lot of commitment to do detail every post and still constantly update, and I'm very grateful for you <3

I was wondering if you could write tips+prompts for a paranoid character?

Thank you again 😺

Thank you for the kind words!! That means a lot :)

How to Write a Paranoid Character

-> sources: mind.org , betterhealth.vic.gov

Paranoia is the irrational and persistent feeling that people are "out to get you."

Things that Make Paranoia More Likely:

Having confusing or unsettling experiences or feelings that you can't easily explain.

If you are anxious or worried a lot or have low self-esteem and expect others to criticize or reject you.

If you tend to come to conclusions quickly, believe things very strongly, and don't easily change your mind.

If you are isolated.

If you have experienced trauma in the past.

Things that may Contribute to Paranoid Thoughts:

Life experiences. You are more likely to experience paranoid thoughts when you are in vulnerable, isolated or stressful situations that could lead to you feeling negative about yourself.

Experiences in your childhood may lead you to believe that the world is unsafe or make you mistrustful and suspicious of others. These experiences may also affect your self-esteem and the way you think as an adult.

If you experience anxiety, depression, or low self-esteem, you may be more likely to experience paranoid thoughts.

Paranoia is sometimes a symptom of certain physical illnesses such as Huntington's disease, Parkinson's disease, strokes, Alzheimer's disease and other forms of dementia. Hearing loss can also trigger paranoid thoughts in some people.

Lack of sleep can trigger feelings of insecurity and even unsettling feelings and hallucinations. Fears and worries may develop late at night.

Recreational drugs may trigger paranoia, such as cocaine, cannabis, alcohol, ecstasy, LSD, and amphetamines. This may happen particularly if you're already feeling low, anxious or experiencing other mental health problems.

Research has suggested that genes may affect whether you are more likely to develop paranoia.

Symptoms of Paranoia:

being easily offended

finding it difficult to trust others

not coping with any type of criticism

assigning harmful meanings to other people's remarks

being always on the defensive

being hostile, aggressive, and argumentative

not being able to compromise

finding it difficult (or impossible) to "forgive and forget"

assuming that people are talking ill of them behind their back

being overly suspicious

not being able to confide in anyone

finding relationships difficult

considering the world to be a place of constant threat

feeling persecuted by the world at large

believing in unfounded conspiracy theories

Writing Prompts for a Paranoid Person

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Everyone was against him. No one liked to see him succeed and so they were doing everything in their power to stop him.

People were talking about her behind her back. They would whisper as she walked by, and their laughter would echo in her ears as she got further from them.

"You never believe me!" They wailed, pointing an accusing finger at their friend. "You wouldn't get it! You don't know what it's like to be hated by everyone!"

He laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and wide awake. It was a nightly routine, at this point. He could never bring himself to close his eyes. There were too many things going on his head, too many things that only made him dread when morning came.

Everything was about to go so wrong so fast, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The impending doom beat down on her shoulders, reminding her that she was not okay. She was not safe.

They couldn't stop fidgeting with their hands. It used to offer some form of comfort, but not anymore. How could it when the whole world is against you?

They were looking at him. They were watching his every move. He was being tracked. Studied. Something was going to happen. Something bad. Something he wasn't prepared for. What could he do to be prepared?

"You think I'm crazy, but I'm not! You'll see."

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[haveihitanerve]

I have an idea:

Tim is Damian's fave brother. He shows it by stabbing him, because in his world aka the loa, if someone is a threat it's a great compliment, and they are treated as such.

The batfam is freaking out bc Damian is trying to kill Tim but he's really just trying to show that he thinks Tim's a really competent person and totally worthy of being his brother.

ooooh this tis so crucnhy gimme a sec-

Timothy was being cruel to himself again. It wasn't uncommon, really, that the third youngest was overly critical of himself, especially concerning work related things, but every time set Damian's teeth on edge.

"Its such a stupid mistake! What am I?? Five!!?!?!" Tim ranted, waving the misprinted sheet around in the air. "Someone could've gotten hurt because of this!"

"Tim, it's not that big of a deal." Dick tried placatingly. "Not a big deal?" Tim shouted back. "What do you mean its not a big deal??? If Jason hadn't caught my dumb mistake one of you could've gotten hurt!" He shook his head in disgust at himself, dropping into a chair.

"Honestly Bruce should've fired me all those years ago. I am a horrible partner."

"Hey!" Dick protested, but Damian knew his eldest brothers arguing wouldn't get anywhere. Tim didn't believe any of the support Dick tried to give him, and was doubtful of even Bruce's praise, which was hard for any of them to brush off.

Damian tuned out his brothers angry argument, weighing the small dagger in his hand. Tim had gifted it to him, on a patrol they had run together oh so long ago.

"A gift." Tim had said. "From one Robin to the next." He hand winked then, grappling away. "Try not to stick it in my back, yeah?" He'd hollered into the wind, and Damian had smiled, in spite of himself.

And he had kept the promise. While Jason and even Dick had gotten plenty of blades lodged in certain places over the years, Damian had never truly attempted to harm Tim. Not in that way. Not anymore. But now...

Tim would never believe he was good enough if Damian didn't see him as worthy competition. He lifted the small dagger up and down a bit, testing how it moved. It was fine craftsmanship, he had to admit, and, though he hated to say it, if he wasn't so attached to it he might even use it more in battle. But, that was no matter. Timothy was distracted anyway.

Damian walked over casually, fighting the urge to creep, to sneak up, because that would only draw attention. Tim even leaned towards him, arm lifting to hug him, even as he continued arguing, eyes not even looking his way. The easy show of trust had Damian hesitate for a second, but he didn't dwell on it long.

Tim looked surprised when he spotted the knife sticking out of his side. "What's wrong?" Dick asked, puzzled as to why he had suddenly stopped speaking. Tim looked at the blade, then lifted his eyes to Damian's in confusion.

"I find you a worthy opponent Drake." Damian said softly. Tim's eyes widened in surprise a moment before Dick was on them, dragging Tim to the med bay while angrily shouting at Damian. But Tim's eyes never strayed from his little brothers face, gratitude shining in his eyes.

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: jeonghan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, 70's au, little to no angst

warnings: none, maybe a few swear words here and there

summary: Jeonghan might be a cocky bastard but when it comes to you he will turn the world upside down, or so he claims.

words: 2k

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask.

a/n 2: i heard a podcast and it made me want to write this fic because the love story of the two hosts was sooo damn cutee.

You knew Jeonghan from when you were literally a kid.

His father had moved to your city after a presentation from little Jeonghan on how to make a pocketknife using ice cream sticks that he learnt from his local friends, his mother mortified that her little sweet child would grow up to become a goon forced his father to change cities to go as far away from the place they physically could.

It was during his fathers pursuit for a stable Korean community in Canada’s ever-growing cities did he come across the name of your grandfather’s in the phonebook that sounded very much similar to his. Your grandfather being the trusting and kind man he was invited his father for a dinner in his house the following day and this event kickstarted a relationship between the two families wherein, his father bought a house six minutes away from yours in the small part of your city inhabited by mostly Asians.

You both had met when he was seven and you were only three, he still remembers babysitting you when you were in middle school as your parents trusted no one more than him. So, when he broke the beautiful glass table in your living room, he had skillfully blamed you resulting in a three-hour long lecture from your parents about taking care of ones possessions.

You hated Jeonghan then, you really did, so you refused to talk to him for the next almost five years.

Until you both found yourselves in a duet dance opposite to each other because it was the neighborhood talent show and it was mandatory for the kids to participate. Typical Asian parents.

To no ones surprise your dance number got a tad bit too much hype from the watchers and it kickstarted another full year of you both not talking to each other at all because of the teasing glances and suggestive remarks from adults and children alike.

The time you both talked to each other again was when it was you senior year prom at high school and your father being the overprotective man he was, did not allow you to go because according to him ‘prom is how American kids end up getting pregnant.’

He was wrong of course; kids get pregnant due to having sex but you being the soft-spoken kid you were did not have the gal to inform him that. You would rather spend the night being sad and watching Simpsons and crying about how unfair it is for your parents to not let you go and experience the night considered to rank number one in peak American high school experience.

This was the first time you saw Jeonghan as your lord and savior, which you obviously will never tell him because it will do nothing but fuel his over-the-top ego. But that day he had stepped in and talked to you father.

“It’s an experience and everyone should be able to experience it, I think you are wrong sir to take away this from your daughter,” he had oh so righteously said.

“Son, I would let her only if you take her, as I don’t trust anyone but you with my daughter.”

“So, I shall then.”

Now did this conversation shock you? Yes, it did especially your father’s response to Jeonghan, but you were not going to stir up any feminist conversation with your father right now, not when you just got the pass to go to prom.

That night was something you barely remember; it has been twenty years since then and you barely care about the overly hyped kids and the future alcoholics that you encountered that night. Now that you are wise and older, you understand your parents concern. Suzy from you class had become a mother at the prime age of eighteen, nine months later. You are thankful that your father made the wise choice for you that day.

That night from what you remember was just plain boring, you had come back at 11 to a quite house, had talked to the boy for the entirety of the night, watched the sunrise with him and at the end had hugged him thanking him for taking you to prom.

After that incident, you both had again gone onto your own ways and had not talked to each other for another year till the next family function, where you both were the only kids of the same age present as all your other friends were out of the country for college.

That weekend had sparked a friendship between you both, as you always stuck to each other’s side seeking comfort from one another as talking to anyone else somehow always circled back to your marriage and their extreme concern for your depleting eggs.

The friendship you both wove lasted a long while, throughout your college. Till one day you come back from a trip to Daegu, and he was there standing at the airport ready to rush you away from your family to the nearest Starbucks because he had some news for you.

Once in the café he informed you that he had landed the job he had been trying for right after finishing college. You were elated for him, so happy that you almost forgot to tell him about the potential marriage partner your parents had whipped up during your two-week-long stay there.

Jeonghan being the man he was asked you up front to marry him, confessing his hidden feeling for you and how the weight of them might have just decreased his height. Dramatic bitch.

You being brough back to reality told him no and stated the reason to be man you could have potentially married. He obviously told you to say no to this unknown ‘son of a bitch’ and accept his proposal.

So being the bigger person, because Jeonghan obviously refused to, you reminded him that you had never dated anyone let alone him and you will not marry a man you have not dated.

This conversation then ignited your relationship the first step of which was turning down the said ‘son of a bitch’ while telling your father you wanted to focus on your career more, which you really did. Fast forward six months and while keeping up the long-distance relation with frequent phone calls late at night because your parents might pick up the landline and eavesdrop if its during the day, while at the same time trying to search for a job near Boston went on.

On one late Sunday afternoon as you were sitting on the kitchen island sipping on coffee you got an email from on of the companies, you had given an interview to, informing you had gotten an onsite job that would require you to move to Cambridge, and you were over the moon.

So, the preparations began for your send off and again Jeonghan stepped in like the messiah he is. He is absolutely not one, you refuse to accept. The man went ahead and told your conservative father he will give up his life to take care of you, till this date you claim it will be the opposite if a situation like that befalls you both. After packing your bags, you were on your merry way to live with the man.

It took you both some time to adjust to the new settings he would be over at your place during the weekends and sometimes you would be at his. This continued for another year or so before one night as you both were laying on the bed together when Jeonghan suddenly piped up.

“I think you should see other people.”

Not understanding what he meant you turned towards the guy and asked, “what do you mean?”

“I know we will end up marrying each other, so I want you to experience dating other men too, so you don’t get to ever claim I was the only guy in your life,” he explained to you.

You had yet to get a taste of exactly how much of a cocky motherfucker you are dating, said innocently.

“But Jeonghan you are the only guy I ever dated.”

That was the end of that conversation that night before you both went to sleep, but his urging never stopped. It went on for a few days till one day your exhausted and a tad bit insecure self, lashed out at him claiming he wanted to cheat on you, and he wanted a break. So, you gave one to him.

That entire year you had a flower bouquet delivered early morning to your house with an apology letter, although the apologies lasted only for a month before you forgave the terrified man, who apologized profusely after you accepted to talk to him. Even though you did feel a bit bad after seeing him, the guy looked like he was living during the great depression.

After that all was smooth sailing and he never ever tried to upset you at all, but his playful nature persisted anyways, not like you minded that.

Five years later during your sister’s wedding in Singapore was when his proposal was finally accepted. You had just arrived at the airport and yet again the man had swooped in and taken you away from your family under the guise of some kind of sound check that was needed to be done in the wedding venue.

Your clueless self agreed to go with him and without a second thought he took you to the cables to take you to an island that was nowhere close to the wedding venue. As you were getting increasingly confused, you kept asking him where exactly you both were going. He kept deflecting the topic, so you ultimately gave up and, as another family came up on the cable car, you started talking about your flight that you took with your family. The poor man did not hear one word, he was sweating bullocks and was essentially confused why another family was in the cable car that he had fully booked for you both.

As the family got down at the end, he stopped you from doing so too claiming it is not the stop, even though it was the last one. It was then the nervous wreck of a man got down on one knee in front of asking for your hand in marriage once again, and you being so in love with him accepted to spend the rest of your life with the man.

The rest of it was history, you both had to tell your parents none of whom were shocked at all, rather relieved that you both had at last agreed to get married and be together forever.

Now ten years later and with your two children, you are perfectly content with your life. Waking up with Jeonghan beside you everyday sounds like a dream and you are happy it came true for you.

As you tossed around the bed you saw Jeonghan eyeing you in his half-awake state.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“Us,” you answer snuggling closer to him.

“What about us, huh?”

“The way you forced me to date some other guy because you wanted me to have more experience in dating,” you laughed at the memory.

“Don’t tell me about that it still haunts me till this day” he retorts with a shudder.

“Why did you do it anyways?” you ask.

“I knew I was going to marry you so I wanted you to have some more experience with dating others so whenever you have an argument I could say ‘hey remember that looser you dated!’”, he answers with laugh.

With a laugh you slapped his shoulder exclaiming, “I sometimes forget how cocky you can get!”

"How else do you think I got the permission to propose you in someone else's marriage!" he states sassily.

With that Jeonghan snuggles closer to you some more, its Sundays anyways the kids are with their grandparents and you both have all the time in the world to just bask in each other’s presence and not do anything at all.

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twelve - Toughening Up

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

Warnings: Death

1.9K words

Series Masterlist

The funeral service wasn't beautiful. It was sad. So, so sad. Every head of every family sat around the casket as it was lowered into the ground.

Hamilton sat in his black suit, black sunglasses covering his face. Y/N had met him for the first time that day, when he had shaken her hand and assured her that her father was a great man.

Lando sat beside Hamilton. He was stoic, even when his father's body was lowered into the ground.

Beside him was Vettel, and Charles Leclerc was beside him, attending in his brothers place. Carlos and Y/N sat beside Charles; her status as Carlos’s wife was all that mattered. Nobody cared that she was the daughter of the deceased.

Fernando Alonso, who had half of Spain as his territory, were sat with Y/N and Carlos. He was an incredibly kind man, who had pulled Y/N in for a comforting hug as soon as he realised who she was (but that had made Carlos literally growl at him).

Gasly was there. If it wasn’t for the meeting with the heads of family, he would have sent his son and his right hand man, Esteban, on his behalf. That would have been interesting to see, since Esteban and Pierre hated each other.

Sargeant was there with his son, Logan. Alex Albon (head of the Albon family), was there too. Although his territory was in Thailand, he had grown up in England and conducted most of his business from there, until just a few years ago. He’d been head of the Albon family since he was sixteen, the youngest head of family ever.

Jos Verstappen was there. He’d always been overly critical of Norris, especially when Max and Lando had become friends. He sat there, his expression unimpressed, his arms folded over his chest. He stared at Y/N, not taking his eyes off of her.

Y/N sat there in the rain, trying her best not to meet Jos Verstappen’s eye. She hadn’t had to see him at her wedding, since Max had come over to congratulate the couple instead.

Norris was buried between his wives. Lando’s mother was on the left, and Y/N’s mother was on the right.

After the funeral, the heads of family made their way back to the Norris house. Carlos tried to lace his fingers through Y/N’s and pull her back towards the house, but she moved away from him, wouldn’t touch him.

Instead, Y/N took a seat in front of her mothers’ headstone. The ground was wet on the bottom of her black dress, but she didn’t much care, not when she was finally with her mother. “If I could have had anybody at my wedding, it would have been you,” Y/N whispered as she traced her fingers over the letter on the headstone. Helena Norris. “I just wish you could tell me why. Why did you arrange for me to marry this man, mum? He's a monster!”

The rain hid the tears running down her cheeks. “I’m so unhappy,” she whispered and wiped at her cheeks. “I wanted the chance to marry somebody I love, but now I can’t. He hates me.” Y/N sucked in a deep breath. “I-I wish I was more like you. I wish I was strong enough to handle this.”

Y/N sat there for only a minute more. The rain soaked into her dress and she shivered, but that wasn’t enough to get her to move.

Suddenly somebody was standing behind her. He cleared his throat, digging the toe of his shoe into the ground. “You okay?”

“I don’t know, Lan,” Y/N answered. There was no point in saying ‘no’, what good would it do?

Lando stood at his own mothers grave. When Y/N’s mother first started seeing his father, Lando spent a lot of time out here. He missed his mum; she had been a sweet woman, she had a soft voice and was so, so kind. Now Lando thought about it, she was a lot like Y/N. It took Lando a while to get used to the thought of having a new mum. He was at an age where he didn’t understand why he needed to have a new mum, why couldn’t he just have his old one?

When he got older, he started speaking to her headstone. Especially after his father got sick. It got to the point where nobody knew more about Lando than his own mothers grave.

“When I got home from Spain, I realised I never got you a wedding present,” he said, tracing his fingers along the Norris insignia on the headstone. “I came out here to ask mum what I should get you.”

It didn’t get Y/N jumping up and asking him more, like he thought it would. So, Lando did the one thing he could think of. He crouched down beside her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“You are Y/N Norris,” he began, and she didn’t bother to correct him. “You are the daughter of Helena Norris. You can take charge of the Sainz family, cuckhold him out of his own crime family.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh. She stood up and dusted off her dress. “No, Lando, I can’t. I’m not Y/N Norris anymore. And yeah, I might be the daughter of Helena Norris, but she didn’t want me being tough and strong like her. She wanted me to be quiet and submissive.”

Lando shook his head. “No, she wanted you to be unassuming. She just never got a chance to teach you to strike.

The siblings headed back to the Norris house together. There was only a week until she went back to Spain, Lando had to teach her everything he knew before she went.

***

Y/N slept incredibly well in her childhood bedroom. It was cool, the sound of the rain soothing. Her husband was in the room next door, Y/N just wished he could have been further away.

Lando had set her alarm for five thirty. At five forty-five, he burst into her bedroom with toast and orange juice and handed it to her. “Get up, get dressed and meet me down in the gym,” he commanded.

Nodding her head, she ate.

Thirty minutes later Y/N was in the Norris home gym. Lando was her trainer and, boy, was he putting her through her paces. He had her sweating through her shirts as she used the machines.

It wasn’t just the gym that Lando was having her doing. He found his old Spanish text books from when he was at school and gave them to her. He let her lock herself in the library as she studied.

It was all a part of Lando’s plan to get Y/N on top. His want for her to take over the Sainz family wasn’t selfish, but it was the best way Lando could think of to keep her safe and happy. He taught her things that Helena Norris had taught him, ready for when he became the head of their family.

“It’s all about knowing when the time is right,” said Lando as they sat in his office. “Like, I took control once dad fell ill. I could have tried to take control from him much before that, but it would have fucked things up for me, for all of us,” he said. “I know the example doesn’t apply to your situation, but look at it like this: Sainz is the head of the family, not Carlos. If you try and take control from Sainz, he could have Carlos lock you away, never to be seen. But if you keep playing the weak little wife who’s terrified of her husband and wait for Carlos to be head of the family, he’ll never see it coming.”

Y/N stared at her brother. These men were terrifying to her. They still had guns, but probably had about twenty different ways to kill her with their bare hands anyway. There was no way Y/N could try and take their control.

“Lan, I just want respect. I don’t want to run the family, I just want my Husband to respect me,” she said. She didn’t care about Sainz, she cared about Carlos. Well, not exactly cared, but she was already sick of this marriage being miserable.

Lando sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re going to hate this, but you’ll need to stand up to him.”

For the week that they were home, Lando kept Y/N in the gym. For an hour every morning, he had her in the gym. It wasn’t about changing her shape or building her strength, it was about building confidence.

When she got a spare minute, Y/N sat in the library, at her mother’s desk as she read through the Spanish books Lando had given her.

There was a knock at the library door. Getting up from the desk, she walked over and unlocked it, letting the person it. It could only have been Lando or a member of the house staff.

It wasn’t. Her Husband strode into the library, kicking the door shut behind him. Upon seeing him, Y/N turned on her heel and returned to the desk, ignoring him completely.

“Your brother said I could find you in here,” said Carlos as he looked around the library. He’d been in here once before, but it was so long ago that he could hardly remember it.

Y/N let out a snort. “Did he now?”

“I wanted to see if you’d like to play some chess.”

She shut the Spanish book in front of her and looked towards Carlos. The husband, the man who had spent the last few weeks causing her such anguish. “You want to play chess with me?”

Carlos nodded his head.

But then Y/N smiled. She stood from the desk and walked over to where she used to keep the chess set, when she lived in the house. It was exactly where she had left it, a thin layer of dust covering it. She picked it up and placed it on the little round table in the middle of the room.

“Okay,” she began as she opened the case containing the chess set. She pulled out the board and laid it on the middle of the table. “We’ll play chess, but I have some conditions,” she said, placing down the white pieces. “Every time I take a piece, you have to answer my questions.”

“And what do I get?” Asked Carlos, watching as she set down the black pieces.

Y/N thought on it for a second. But then she realised she didn’t case. She didn’t care what Carlos wanted. And she told him exactly that.

Carlos smirked. This was a side of Y/N he hadn’t seen before. It was what she had tried to do while they were on the plane just a few days earlier, and Carlos could recognise that, but this was another level. He liked it.

“Okay,” he said, leaning forward. The white pieces sat in front of him, Y/N placing the black pieces in front of herself. “Let’s play.”

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[satorusugurugurl]

Hi! I was wondering if you’d do nanami consoling his lover, an overly anxious reader who’s having panic attacks so often. Thanks and love your stuff, keep it up!

Pocket Full of Candy

Summary: you struggle with anxiety and panic attacks. When you have one in front of Nanami, you panic even more. In the past, your exes weren’t the best when dealing with them; how will your boyfriend react?

Pairing: Nanami Kento x AFAB!Reader

Word Count:1,537

Warning: anxiety/panic attacks, stressed reader self-degrading, fluff

A/N: hi Nonnie!! As someone who struggles with persistent anxiety attacks, I loved writing this. Where’s a Nanami when you need one?! 💚💚💚

Anxiety was a bitch that was constantly on your back. It never left you alone for as long as you could remember; some days were easier than others, while entire weeks were a struggle, but living with it became like second nature. You had learned all the tricks and keys to dealing with them, but they never tell you when they would hit. Dealing with your anxiety was like cranking the crank to a Jack-in-the-Box. You were constantly on edge, an edge that you hated living on.

You were so lucky to have Nanami as a partner who stayed by your side; not a lot of people were able to handle panic and anxiety attacks very well. You had had partners tell you to knock it off, grow up, and stop embarrassing them. Having someone tell you that when in the midst of an attack, sticks with your words, like those made you feel like you were a burden or an embarrassment. Having been told that time and time again made it difficult to open up about your condition with other people.

Nanami Kento wasn’t like other people.

The first time you had a panic attack in front of him was when you knew he was a keeper. The curse spirit you both had been assigned to take out was difficult to beat. The spirit had a habit of throwing you against walls, constantly knocking the wind out of you, making your mind spiral—thoughts of how you were useless, letting Nanami down. The panic grasped at your throat, constricting your airway. Even though you were having a panic attack, you fought with all your might until the curse was dead in the wind. You finally allowed yourself to lose into panic, squeezing around your throat.

You remember the suffocating feeling that you were letting Nanami down, having him do most of the fighting. You criticized yourself, that you could’ve done more. You could’ve helped him; instead, you let him do most of the heavy hitting?! He probably hated you and thought you were good for nothing waste of space

The sound of wheezing made Nanami look up from his phone after texting Ijichi that you had both finished up. He had been expecting to find you by him; instead, you were on your knees. Your hands are grasping at your throat, scratching at your skin, trying to open your airway as the panic choked you out. He dropped his blunt blade and cell phone, not caring if the screen cracked because you were more important.

His large hands gently pulled from your throat, his eyes glancing at the scratches you had left in your wake. Nanami held them tight as you stared into the green lenses of his glasses with teary eyes. “I got you. You’re safe, honey.” The gentleness and compassion in his voice made you cry even harder.

For once, a partner hadn’t seen you as a burden in the state. Nanami hadn’t pushed you away or left you to deal with it alone. He had done the exact opposite, which was such a breath of fresh air that you were still struggling to find amid the attack.

“I got you, relax,” he whispered, releasing your hands and moving to sit behind you. “Here.” His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest. “Listen to my breathing.” Kento inhales deeply. “Follow me. Inhale and exhale.” With shaky breaths, you did your best to follow his lead, effectively slowing your heart rate down. Thanks to the gentle tone of his voice and his calm breathing, you were able to relax even deeper and deeper into his arms.

“There we go, good girl.”

Nanami held you until the panic subsided, fading away into nothing. Your boyfriend still held you even when your heart slowed, and the tears stopped. He whispered gentle affirmations in your ear, letting you know everything would be okay. You were safe with him, and for once in your soul, he knew you would be OK. As long as he was by your side, you were safe.

But this had to be a one-time occurrence. Nanami wouldn’t be able to help you through each of the frequent attacks you suffered from.

You could eat those words because you couldn’t have been more wrong your entire life. For every single panic and anxiety attack you had, Nanami was right there by your side, and if he wasn’t around, he insisted that you call him so he could talk you through it. No matter the setting, whether in public on a mission or in the comfort of your apartment, Nanami was willing to help calm you down and bring you back to reality.

The man had learned different techniques to help you, from breathing exercises to holding your hands. He was always prepared when you were in public or at home. Nanami wasn’t ashamed of your anxiety and never once told you to grow up to act your age. There were no cruel comments about how you were an embarrassment to him. Just the gentle caress of his hand against your face or his arms around you as he told you everything would be okay.

He was always prepared.

But was he prepared to jump into action in front of your other colleagues? Because you were sitting in the lounge at the school with Nanami, Shoko, and Gojo when an anxiety attack hit you out of nowhere. You tried to keep it together, but the suffocating feeling of the walls closing in around you as your vision blurred with unshed tears gave you away.

Like always, your boyfriend jumped into action. He pulled you off the couch, sitting you on the ground so he could wrap his arms around you, hugging you tight, grounding you when the breathing exercises and the gentle affirmations didn’t work. Nanami reached into his pocket and pulled out a sour warhead candy. He ripped the wrapper open before squeezing your cheeks to allow him to shove the candy into your mouth.

The extremely sour taste hit your tongue, making your face scrunch up as you kicked your feet out. You grumbled and shivered at the taste, lips pursing together as you leaned your head against Nanami’s chest. Even though you despise the taste of warheads, it always works wonders when you are from a nasty attack.

“Hey, you okay?” Shoko asked. An unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she crouched before you.

“Mhmm, I’m okay.” You mumbled, rolling the candy over your tongue before popping it on your cheek. “Bleeh, I hate sour candy.”

“I’ll go grab you a water.”

As Shoko left, you could feel eyes on you. “Whatever you’re going to say, say it now.” You spat out like a venom as Gojo watched from the couch.

“I have so many questions.” There was a hint of teasing in his tone.

“You know I have panic attacks; what questions could you possibly have?”

Due to his long, lanky legs, Gojo crossed the room in a couple of steps. “I wanna know why your boyfriend’s been holding out on me! I told you before the meeting yesterday I wanted something sweet! He wouldn’t let me go to the convenience store, insisting we had to be at the meeting with the higher-ups!” Nanami and annoyed sigh from behind you, shaking his head at Gojo’s child antics. “What the hell, Nanami? How many candies do you have in that suit of yours?”

“Lots, but none of them are for you.”

“That's just mean!! I want a candy!”

“Gojo, they’re all sou—”

You try to explain why Nanami had candy for you, but your boyfriend tosses him a candy. “There, have at it.” Without so much as a question, Gojo pops the sweet into his mouth and holds it there for a second before he spits it out, tongue lolling out as he gags.

“T-That’s terrible!!”

You giggle, resting your weight against Nanami, who smirks as he watches Gojo scrub at his tongue with the sleeve of his jacket, “He only carries super sour and insanely hot candy to trick my brain when I have a panic attack.” Gojo ignores you, snatching the water Shoko is carrying back and chugging it down.

“Gojo, you ass!”

“It’s not my fault! Nanami gave me the worst candy!”

You glance at your lovely boyfriend, who rests his chin on your shoulder. The candy may have been so sour it made your eyes water, but the fact he carried it around for you proved how sweet Nanami Kento was when it came to your well-being. You could fully be yourself with him, and he could be himself without a care in the world.

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