#if people are expressing their feelings that’s fine for them

[rainydayathogwarts]

I neeeed more poly!marauders x reader but maybe on the train to hogwarts and James gets worked up over some girl in a magazine???

Sirius's magazine - poly!marauders

summary: when sirius sneaks his porn magazine into james's backpack, it's almost inevitable for the boy to find it and caught a happy accident. wc: 2.2k+

It had been a long summer without your boys. Sirius and James had spent a couple of pleasant months together, exchanging kisses behind close doors in disguise of helping a friend out, and you and Remus had been left all alone. So it wasn’t really a surprise that you were the first to greet each other on the train back to Hogwarts. James watched with pouty lips as you and Remus engulfed each other in a tight hug, the taller boy leaning down to kiss you. James and Sirius followed your movements, exchanging hugs and short kisses before you settled yourself against Remus’s side, his arm slung over your shoulder, keeping you snug against him. 

The group fell into a comfortable atmosphere as Sirius delved into stories about him and James while they stayed at the Potter Manor, and how Fleamont almost caught them kissing a little more than one time. “Oh please, if anyone would be fine with their son liking boys, it would be James’s parents.” You pointed out, resting your head on Remus’s shoulder. James shook his head “No but my parents think I have a girlfriend. Well, they know I have a girlfriend, but that’s it.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise, feeling Remus’s body move as he chuckled. “Yeah, James spoke about you so much that his mum asked if you were his girlfriend. Spoiler alert: he said yes.” You grinned widely, putting a hand on Remus’s chest and glancing up at his amused expression.

“Also,” James added, “In every photo I showed of our friend group, you’re pretty much always sitting in my lap, so it would be weird if I said no and then showed them those photos.” You hummed, shrugging your shoulders. “What can I say, I know where my favourite seat is.” Remus lightly shoved you before instantly bringing you back to his side and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Let me show you.” James insisted, leaning down to lift his backpack up into his lap and ruffling through it. He huffed, pulling a large object out of the bag and saying “Sirius, you didn’t!” But the image on the front cover of the magazine instantly gave it away. “What!?” The boy defended, “I didn’t have time to put it in my luggage and I wasn’t going to leave it!” 

“Sirius, I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t go shoving porn magazines in other people’s bags!” You and Remus both made a noise of understanding, nodding your heads in unison. “Three people aren’t enough to satisfy your needs?” Teased Remus, leaning further in his seat. Sirius held Remus’s eye contact, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke “James, turn to page 26.” James obeyed, but not without shooting Sirius a suspicious look first. “Doesn’t she look just like her?” He asked, not breaking eye contact with the scarred boy.

James’s small gasp told you enough. His eyes were trained on the page, eyes wide, and if you were close enough, you’d probably see the way his pupils dilated. “What do you think?” Sirius asked. James shrugged his shoulders, trying to be nonchalant, but the redness in his cheeks and the shy look on his face spoke otherwise. “Not identical, but yeah, close enough.” James flicked to the other page, and you saw his jaw go slack, hand freezing on the paper. Suddenly, he looked up, briefly making eye contact with you before he slammed the magazine shut and averted his gaze to the window.

“Hey, I wanna see!” You called, standing up and snatching the magazine from James’s sweaty hands. You stood silently flicking through the magazine, an eyebrow raised as you scanned the promiscuous positions of the models on each page. The train jerked just as you landed on page 26, and you stumbled, throwing your arms out to regain your balance, but an arm was wrapping around your waist and tugging you towards them. You landed with a squeal on someone’s lap, and you looked back to spot Remus’s grinning face, both his arms snaking around your torso. He nodded towards the magazine, and you turned your gaze towards it, your breath immediately hitching in your throat.

“I was not expecting that.” You muttered, and Remus hummed in agreement. Page 26 had the most inappropriate image so far, with the model on her knees, chest touching the floor as she arched her back. The image was taken from the back, allowing a perfect view of her leaking centre between her spread legs. Sirius was right though, she had nearly identical hair, and her body’s curves dipped in similar manners to yours. “Well, I’ve never seen myself from that angle, so I wouldn’t know.” You announced, looking up at Sirius who wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively. You turned to the next page, where the same model was now straddling a man’s lap, leaning over his chest with her fist closed around his dick. “Hey, he kind of looks like you!” You added, looking up at Remus with a grin. “Same tattoo placement too.” You pointed at the man on the page’s tattoo, just above his hip, and Remus ducked his head down to press kisses in the crook of your neck. “Meant to be together in every universe, yeah?” You twisted on Remus’s lap to face him, leaning closer to kiss him softly. One of his hands travelled to your hip to squeeze it gently, pecking your lips once more.

James’s attention was still turned towards the view on the other side of the window, but he listened closely to your entire loving exchange, an image of you an Remus together forming in his head. He winced, feeling himself grow impossibly harder. You cocked your head to the side as you observed James, calling the boy’s name once. As he turned his body towards you, he placed his hands over his lap, gulping harshly. You giggled, standing from Remus’s lap to wobble over to James. Wrapping your arms over his shoulders, you let yourself drop onto his lap, causing a loud moan to escape his parted lips. James’s hands moved to tightly grip your hips, adjusting you so that his swollen cock was right in between your legs.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” You asked teasingly, pressing a soft kiss on James’s temple. “Please, please.” He whimpered, looking up at you with pleading eyes. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that Jamie, you know that.” Sirius turned his body towards you and James as the words tumbled out of your mouth, leaning back against  the compartment’s wooden door as he prepared himself for the show.

“I’m so hard, please.” He whispered, not daring to look at either of the other boys in the compartment. Sometimes they intimidated him too much, but you were always looking at him with adoration in your eyes. Turning your attention towards Remus, you silently deliberated with the quiet boy, a small smirk on his lips. The train hit a bump, causing your body to jump up and down on James’s lap, making him bite his lip painfully as he miserably tried to suppress a moan. Desperately, James bucked his hips up, looking for friction. His eyes fluttered shut as a satisfied breath left his lips, but his pleasure was short lived.

“James.” His eyes snapped open, looking directly across your body to make eye contact with Remus, who’d finally put on an assertive tone. “Are you so desperate to cum that you’re willing to do it in your trousers? On the train to Hogwarts?” James nodded quickly, which put a frown on Remus’s face. “Think about it for a few seconds.” It was James’s turn to frown, his eyebrows furrowing as he shook his head. “Go on and unbutton them for me.”

Sirius leaned to the side, reaching for the lock on the compartment door and turning it. He quickly mumbled a silencing spell while James rushed to undo his trousers. James looked up, waiting for further instructions from Remus. “Pull your boxers down.” You glanced down at James’s movements, watching his cock spring out of his boxers, tip leaking with drops of precum. You couldn’t help but wrap your hand around his cock, causing James’s jaw to fall open in a silent moan. A call of your name had your head snapping back towards Remus, patiently listening for his next words. “Just sit on it for now.” Sirius barked out a laugh as you whined “What? That’s not fair!” Remus raised his eyebrows at your disobedience, and it was enough for you to sigh submissively and follow his commands.

James’s hand slid under your skirt to push your panties to the side, the other arm wrapping around your waist carefully to help you slowly sink onto him. Your eyes snapped shut as you took in James’s thick length, a quiet whimper leaving you as you tried adjusting to his size. The only sound in the compartment was your and James’s heavy breathing, tears clouding your vision as you got yourself used to James’s girthy cock. James’s hands returned to your hips in an instant, slightly lifting you off him to help you adjust. Remus watched silently, manspreading and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re not gonna tell them to stop moving?” Teased Sirius, moving to sit next to the boy in command. “Bold coming from the guy who got them in this situation.” He fired back, though the playful smile on his face suggested he was only teasing.

Remus put an arm out and Sirius quickly moved to fill the empty space in front of it, taking your precious spot. The two shared a quick kiss and James instantly whined, letting his head drop on your shoulder as he tried holding himself back from moving. “I still don’t think this is fair.” You announced boldly, squeezing your legs together for more friction. “I didn’t even do anything!” You whimpered as the train hit another bump, James’s dick grazing your cervix.

Remus smiled at you, standing up and taking a step towards you. You looked up at him hopefully, chest puffing up when he leaned down to kiss you, cupping your cheeks with both his hands. You moaned quietly, pushing yourself up to return the kiss and Remus chuckled in the kiss, sliding his tongue in your mouth. Your fingers closed around Remus’s sweater, trying to pull him closer to you, but he broke the kiss, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs as he smiled down at you. “I know darling, you’re being so good for me. Get through this and I promise I’ll reward you when we get to the castle yeah?” You nodded eagerly, only remembering about James when he sharply thrusted his hips into yours, causing a loud gasp to escape your lips.

“Well, we both know who isn’t getting a reward later.” Remus scolded, causing James to whine, his head falling back in disappointment. “Okay James, go crazy.” Your eyes widened when those words left Remus’s mouth, and you instantly opened your mouth to protest “Not too crazy!” But James had already started thrusting his hips into you with such force that you bounced up his lap with each thrust. “Oh god!” You cried, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning too loud. 

From in front of you, Sirius bit his lip at the sight of you panting on top of James who desperately bucked his hips into you, feeling himself grow hard. Fuck, now he was going to have to find a magazine with a lookalike of you and James together. “Don’t forget about her.” Remus warned James, sitting back down next to Sirius. James whimpered, mumbling “I’m sorry, sorry” as his hand travelled to the front of your panties, snaking inside to fumble around, looking for your clit. You jerked up when James’s fingers connected to your clit, beginning to harshly rub circles on it as he began losing rhythm of his thrusts.

Suddenly remembering that he wasn’t limited to this position alone, James wrapped his free arm around your waist, using the momentum of his thrusts to stand up. You yelped as James put you on your feet, turning you towards the window so he could hit it from the back. You stuck your ass out, legs immediately beginning to shake from the new angle as James began thrusting into you with more power.

Sirius cleared his throat, reaching for the button of his trouser, when Remus placed his hand atop his, saying “Don’t.” Sirius’s eyes widened, and he mumbled “What?” though he quickly turned his attention back to you and James just as your back was arching and James’s thrusts were becoming sloppy. Your high pitched moans filled the compartment while James was crying out your name, releasing his load into you. He kept his cock buried inside you while you both came, emptying every last drop of cum into you. You panted heavily, turning your torso as much as you could to kiss James, who eagerly accepted your kiss. Sirius finally turned his gaze back to Remus, who still kept his hand over his, and questioned again. “What? You’re joking, right?” Remus shook his head, holding out the magazine that Sirius had hidden in James’s bag. “Think of it as a sort of punishment.” 

taglist:

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe

[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

[postcardsfromheapside]

This game has been out since Halloween.

In that time, there have been numerous Veilguard positive posts in which patient, loving, wonderful, insightful and intelligent individuals attempt to impart lore onto a fanbase which doesn't deserve their time and attention.

I can't believe I'm running across posts made within the past five days which express disgust and frustration towards the devs over things which have been explained in great detail multiple times on this site, BUT IN THE DAMN GAME.

AND Y'ALL KEEP COMPLAINING THE GAME TELLS BUT DOESN'T SHOW. AND YOU DON'T EVEN LISTEN OR WATCH.

"the crows are presented as wholesome" - they are not. this site has a crow fanbase which has run off and lionized Viago as Daddy, conveniently ignored all the in-game details which either hint or baldly state things Definitely Aren't Cool, and generally fetishized what it means to be a Crow because of Zevran and Lucanis. Then the same people, or others who weren't paying proper attention, whined when the headcanon crowded out the actual in-game material, and they said "Antiva is whitewashed." There have been multiple posts about this.

"slaves are meant to be everywhere in Tevinter and we don't see that" - we aren't everywhere, we're specifically in Docktown which is poor and people generally can't afford slaves there, but we do see evidence of slavery, and we run around with abolitionists and help save people from fascist slavers and free people who will either be slaves or victims of blood magic so IDK what to tell you, there have been multiple posts explaining this too, maybe leave your slave or savior fetish somewhere else.

"Racism is supposed to be rampant" - fuck off. I actually will not be explaining this because for once it was nice not to be called a slur. If you need this to feel "immersed" or to feel there are actual problems, I need you to check yourself fucking hard. If you want to masquerade what it feels like to experience bigotry, go play one of the prior games. This has also been discussed in multiple posts.

"Handling pure lyrium is fine now" no handling the dagger is fine Solas cleansed it, the dagger woke something up in Harding specifically she talks about how some dwarves are connected to the stone, she previously had not been one of them and maybe the dagger woke something up in her, or did you need a pop up explaining this? Were you paying attention during cut scenes and dialogue?

"Adult Dalish without vallaslin" - in the 10 years since Inquisition/Trespasser, doubtless some dalish have come to adulthood and found out what assholes their gods were and made the decision not to go through that specific cultural rites. Or maybe city elves joined the Dalish. Who knows who made up the elf population at that ritual site. Elves are not a monolith. We've made multiple, multiple posts about elves not being monoliths.

"Solas' opinion on blood magic went from neutral to negative" SOLAS FUCKING LIES. We've made multiple posts about Solas lying, if you need this explained further I suggest you play the game all over again, he lies to you throughout the entire game.

"Re-write of the after credits scene in Inquisition to recontextualise the Flemeth and Solas interaction" it's recontextualized because now we know who and what they were to each other. Learning new information does that. This is literally what happens all the time in science and history. You recontextualize what you thought you knew with new information. You're supposed to change your position, not whine about how the new information makes everything different.

These are just some of the things I pulled from a list on a post in which someone was really just upset about everything. Everything. Varric, Morrigan, Solas, everything. But I can't take their criticisms seriously, because they're upset that "too much was told" and "not enough shown" and yet didn't even pay attention to DA lore or in-game dialogue or context clues around the world of Northern Thedas to answer their own questions.

Everything in this game makes complete sense if you use lore from prior games and a single iota of imagination to see how it fits. We've had many delightful posts discussing this, seeing how things could be explained, when approaching the game from a place of curiosity rather than being upset because personal headcanons weren't satisfied or long-held expectations weren't met.

[hypnobeauty]

A Chance Encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 3)

summary: a story about how you and Hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. part 1 / part 2 cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, angst, fluff, hyun is unsure of herself, pre-squid game, slice of life. a/n: hello! i'm back with another part. it is probably the biggest one so far. i wish they were my barbies and i could make them kiss. anyway! i have quite a bit of the story drafted, we'll probably get into the relationship next part. it is out of my control, i never imagined i'd write so many parts lol enjoy xx comments are always appreciated ♥ taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia - comment if you’d like to be tagged.

part 3. a door left open

the uber ride was awkward at first, the kind of silence where neither of you seemed to know where to start. hyun-ju sat stiffly beside you, her hands folded neatly on her lap, her gaze fixed firmly on the window. you could see her shoulders tense, and you thought about how tired she must be.

you decided to break the silence. “so, are you in pain? be honest.”

she turned her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “a little,” she admitted. “mostly just… tired.”

“that’s fair,” you said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “surgery’s no joke. i remember when my cousin had his wisdom teeth out—he tried to eat a cheeseburger the same day. ended up crying into his fries. don’t be like him.”

that earned a small giggle from her, and you took it as a good sign.

“you’re lucky i didn’t let ha-neul come with us,” you added, leaning in conspiratorially. “she would’ve pestered you with questions about your nose—she’s obsessed with noses right now. it’s been her only personality trait for weeks.”

this time, hyun-ju chuckled, soft but genuine. “what’s wrong with her nose?”

“nothing,” you said, grinning. “she just decided it’s not ‘cute’ enough. she almost picked one that would’ve made her look like michael jackson. i had to intervene.”

that got a laugh out of her—small, but real. “michael jackson?”

you nodded, feigning solemnity. “i told her, ‘ha-neul, your nose is fine. it’s perfect. no glitter gloves necessary.’ she almost went through with it anyway.”

hyun-ju laughed a bit more, finally relaxing a bit. the sound eased something in your chest.

“you’re good at this,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter now.

“at what?”

“making people feel comfortable.”

you shrugged, feeling a little shy. “oh. i just think it’s nice to be kind. and honestly? helping you was no big deal. it’s what anyone would do.”

“not anyone,” she said, looking at you for the first time since you got in the car.

*

when the uber pulled up to her building, you hopped out with her, offering to help her up to her apartment “do you need help getting upstairs?”

she shook her head firmly, already reaching for the door handle. “no, it’s fine. i can manage.”

“okay,” you said, “at least let me give you my number. if you need anything, just text me, okay?”

hyun-ju hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. you exchanged numbers, and she disappeared into her building while you climbed back into the car.

later that night, as she sat on her couch, her phone buzzed.

hey, it’s me. i hope you’re feeling better. please keep me updated, and don’t hesitate to ask for help. you deserve it too.

she read it almost immediately. you watched the little “read” notification appear at the bottom of the screen. but no reply came.

hyun stared at the message for a long time, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. she typed out a reply, then deleted it. typed another, then deleted that too. nothing felt right. nothing felt good enough. finally, she locked her phone and set it down,

*

as the uber pulled away from hyun-ju’s building, you leaned back in the seat, finally exhaling the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding. before you could fully settle, your phone buzzed in your pocket. ha-neul’s name lit up the screen.

“heeyy,” you answered, bracing yourself.

“what happened? you just disappeared! did i miss an emergency rhinoplasty?” her tone was playful but edged with curiosity.

you sighed. “no emergency. i just… ended up helping someone.”

“helping someone? who?”

you hesitated. “the woman from the waiting room. remember her, hyun-ju? she had just had surgery, and the clinic wouldn’t let her leave without someone to sign her out.”

there was a pause, then an incredulous laugh. “wait, so you ditched me for someone you barely know?”

“it wasn’t like that,” you said quickly. “she needed help, and no one else was there. i couldn’t just leave her.”

another pause, but this time, ha-neul’s tone softened. “you’re too nice for your own good, you know that?”

“maybe,” you admitted.

“and she’s pretty, isn’t she?” ha-neul’s teasing edge was back.

you laughed, flustered. “i mean… i guess? that’s not the point.”

there was a beat of silence on the line. then, she snorted. “well, i didn’t know you were into girls.”

“what?” you sputtered.

“oh, don’t act surprised. i knew it since that day,” she teased mercilessly.

“to be honest,” you admitted, “me neither.”

“oh my god, you are so into her! i knew it! since the first time we saw her, i knew something was up.”

“i’m not into her,” you said, though your voice didn’t sound as convincing as you’d hoped.

“sure, sure,” she said, dragging out the words. “you’re just playing knight in shining armor for no reason at all.”

you rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “goodbye, ha-neul.”

“oh, this isn’t over. i’m going to interrogate you later.”

you hung up with a laugh, shaking your head. from that day on, ha-neul teased you mercilessly—she found a way to always bring up hyun-ju, teasing you about how you’d never been so straightforward with anyone before, and even your friends got in on it after she spilled the story at dinner the following night.

the only problem? hyun-ju never replied.

*

you sent her a series of messages over the next week:

hey, how are you feeling today? let me know if you need anything.

i live close by—it’s no trouble at all.

two days later:

hey, stranger! ha-neul had her surgery today and looked worse than you, haha.

sorry, i didn’t mean to say you looked bad, just… well, bruised. are you okay?

hyun brought you up in therapy the following week, sitting across from her therapist—a kind, middle-aged woman who specialized in lgbtq+ mental health.

“i met someone,” hyun said hesitantly, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

her therapist’s face lit up. “that’s wonderful, hyun-ju. tell me about her.”

“she’s… nice,” hyun said, struggling to find the words. “she helped me after my surgery. we talked a little. she’s funny.”

“and how do you feel about her?”

hyun hesitated, then shrugged. “i don’t know. it feels… weird. like, she sees me. as me. and that’s good, but it’s scary too.”

her therapist nodded thoughtfully. “it sounds like you’re afraid of being vulnerable.”

hyun wasn’t sure what to say, so her therapist continued. “are you planning to stay in touch with her?”

“i think so,” hyun said cautiously. “but it’s scary. what if i say the wrong thing? what if i ruin it?”

her therapist smiled gently. “relationships—friendships, too—are about taking risks. you don’t have to have all the answers or the perfect words. just being honest and showing up is enough.  let her in a little and see what happens.”

hyun left the session feeling lighter, more hopeful.

*

but when the messages from you kept coming, her anxiety crept back in.

each time her phone buzzed, she felt a pang of guilt. she typed out replies over and over, but nothing felt good enough. her fear of saying the wrong thing left her paralyzed, so she said nothing at all.

three days after the last message:

i’m starting to get worried, hyun-ju. just let me know if you’re fine.

another day:

i pass by your building every day on my way to work. should i stop by?

and finally:

hey, hyun-ju. did something happen? sorry if i came on too strong—i was genuinely worried about you.

i can see you’re reading these, but you never reply… i get it. i’ll leave you alone now. sorry if i made you uncomfortable.

after that, the chat stayed silent. when she received your last message, guilt and regret gnawed at her. she wanted to scream. to hit something. to do anything but face the truth: she had let fear win again.

in her next therapy session, when the doctor asked about you, hyun-ju lied.

“it… didn’t work out,” she said quickly, not meeting her therapist’s eyes. “she probably realized we’re too different.”

the therapist gave her a kind smile but didn’t press further. “that’s okay, hyun-ju. not every connection works out. what matters is that you tried, and you allowed yourself to open up, even if only for a moment.”

hyun-ju nodded, but her stomach churned. she couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth—that she hadn’t replied to a single message.

*

you stared at the chat for a long time after sending that last message. the little grey avatar beside her name felt cold, distant—you wished she had a profile pic. your own days moved forward, though you found yourself thinking of her often. you reread your messages to her, trying to pinpoint where you’d gone wrong. even ha-neul, who had teased you endlessly at first, stopped mentioning her after seeing how the silence weighed on you.

life went on. but hyun-ju had awakened in you feelings you had never taken seriously before and now you couldn’t help feeling like something had been left unresolved.

*

a month later, you were standing in line at your favorite café, eyes scanning the pastry display as you tried to choose something to pair with your cappuccino.

unbeknownst to you, at a table near the window, hyun-ju sat with her notebook, calculating the cost of her next procedure. she sipped her coffee absentmindedly, the barista’s voice barely registering as they called out a name—your name.

her pen froze mid-stroke. it wasn’t a common name. could it really be you? as she told herself it wasn’t, she heard your laugh, warm and unmistakable. her head snapped up, and there you were, joking with the barista as they handed you a cup and a paper bag.

hyun-ju stared, her heart pounding. you thanked them and turned toward the door, completely unaware of her. her legs moved before her mind could catch up. one moment she was sitting; the next, she was standing in front of you, her hand gripping your arm.

you had just reached the door when you felt a hand on your arm and a soft voice behind you saying your name. you turned, startled, and found yourself in front of her.

“can w—can we talk?” she asked, her voice low but firm. “please.”

you looked up from her hand—her nails were painted a soft blush pink and you made a mental note to ask her what nail polish it was—, and that familiar floral scent reached your nose. her expression was a mix of hope, fear, and determination.

face-to-face with hyun-ju, you smiled softly. “of course.”

[bluem1lls]

Hey I was wondering if you could do a se-mi fic where the reader is really sweet/kind and is apart of Gi-hun's group in the games. So when se-mi starts flirting with her the boys go all big brother/dad mode and start getting protective. I just think it would be funny to see Dae-ho and Jung-bae doing their goofy marines bit, while se-mi is absolutely unimpressed and sassy and the reader is just watching from afar happy that they're all 'getting along'. Thank you and I love your writing <3

✧₊⁺ i'd do it all again

✦ synopsis: she's very willing to flirt with you, even if there's two are always there to try to stop her from doing it!

tw: pure fluff!

authors note: hiiii, its short but its a week update and im DEAD so dhhdhdfh i hope u like it!!! tysm for the request💓💓

-> "fuck" my head hurts from the impact as i open my eyes to see a girl.. on top of me. her eyes widen as she tries to stay still. her arms keep my body trapped underneath her.

"shit- i'm so sorry" she whispers slowly, trying to not get caught by the doll from the game.

as i can hear it say 'green light' once again. she stands up quickly, lending me her hand as we start running. i can see my brother's eyes moving across the entire room trying to find me because he lost me out of his sight. when he does, he lets out a big sigh as he runs to my side, staying still as we hear the 'red light'.

-> once we're get to the finish line, i lay on the floor, exhausted. my eyes try to find the short haired girl. i stare as i see her bent over, trying to catch her breath.

"you're not allowed to leave my side, ever" dae-ho, my brother, grabs my shoulders as i rolled my eyes. "i'm serious."

"i know, i'm sorry. a girl tripped over me."

as we turned around to head to the main room, i see the girl's eyes follow me until we arrive.

-> as we're done voting, my brother, being the social butterfly he is, already got us a group.

i sit besides gi-hun as i stare the surroundings. i can feel my brother's arms around me as i groan. the girl who fell on top of me stares, quickly removing her eyes of me as i find her sight.

-> and i try multiple times to talk with her, but everytime i seem to get somewhat close, she's moving around as i frown. maybe she's awkward after the way we met but, i'm still curious.

-> as the second game begins, we get together until they announce 'group of 5'. their eyes widen as in-ho tries to move aside, i grab him as i shook my head no. i turn to leave as dae-ho grabs my arm, serious.

"there's no way-"

"listen, i'll be fine. i have an idea. i promise i'll be fine."

"no you liste-"

it's too late, because i'm already running to the pierced girl as she stares up and down at me with a smirk. great, finally an excuse to talk to her and i know she can't run away this time.

"you owe me. and i need a group" i said to her as she scoffed in amusement.

"oh? i owe you?"

"you fell on top of me!" i reply as she hums, playing with her lip piercing.

"what's wrong with your boyfriend's team?" she lifts an eyebrow as i stare wide eye. boyfriend???

"that dumbass?!" i point at dae-ho."he's my brother, ew."

her expression turns into a surprised one, quickly returning to her normal one. was that why she was avoiding me this whole time? i chuckled softly as she did too.

"oh- right. sorry. so um, let's go get three more people" she says, turning around as we see the purple hair guy coming in our direction. we both stare at eachother at the same time, smiling.

great.

-> as we pass the second same, i sit with them, waiting nervously for my brother and the group's return. i see them arrive with a smile as i get up to throw myself into his arms as he hugs me tight. i hug every one of them, happy to see them again.

-> as the night comes, i eat my food while chatting with the group until i see a someone in front of me. i lift my gaze to meet her brown eyes.

i lift my eyebrow as i slowly smile. "hi"

"hey.. thought you could use the company" she said with amusement, sitting next to me. "and, you never told me your name.."

as i tell her, she replies with hers. se-mi.

"pretty name for a pretty girl" i chuckle at her poor attempt to flirt as she laughs with me.

i feel arms wrap around me as i turn my head. of course. i roll my eyes as i sigh.

"hello ladies. i'm dae-ho" he says (to se-mi, mostly) with a serious expression as she stares unfazed and gives him a head nod. "her brother, but you probably guessed since we have the same 'pretty face', like you said." he tells her, trying to put his most 'older brother' face as i elbow him on the ribs.

"get out, oh my god you're so annoying" i said removing myself from his grip as he stares, offended.

"i'm trying to look after my little sister! you can't date someone from this game"

"we're not dating! leave!" i whisper/shout at him as he stares like a puppy while i push him out.

"i was in the marine, by the way!" he tells to her, turning around one last time as she smirks.

i sit again besides her as i huffed. she smiles, amused.

"so that was.. interesting" she plays with her lip piercing, the smirk never leaving her lips. i nod as i stare away, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. "does that mean every time i'll try to talk to you, you'll have a bodyguard?" she chuckles as i nod, embarrassed.

"i mean.. probably"

she hums as her gaze meets my eyes.

"i can do that."

and she means it.

-> and as the days go by, we become closer and closer. hugging eachother everytime we see the other one survived the game, teaming together and staying all night talking.

and she's so pretty, that it doesn't feel surprising when she's making me blush from staring too much, or when i get butterflies everytime she whispers sweet things to me because she knows i love it.

-> and after one specific hard game, i realize i wanna spend every little minute with her. too scared to loose her, i'm asking her to bring her mattress besides mine. as i'm helping her to move it, i can see two people standing in front of us, staring to see what we're doing.

"are you two sleeping together? i don't think thats a good idea." jung-bae says as my eyes widen. "you look like a good young girl, but we can't trust too much" he says to se-mi as this one stares and gives him a soft chuckle.

"that's true. sleeping together is a step too far. are you two dating?" my brother nods at jung-bae's words as i cover my face in embarrassment.

"not yet" she smirks at my brother as his eyes widen.

"can you two just... shush away?" i murmur to them, staring at both.

they look at each other as i move them softly aside.

"i can't believe the disrespect we face. from two young girls" jung-bae says as dae-ho nods.

-> and as the night comes, we lay side to side while talking.

"i really like this.. spending time with you" she says, making me smile. i feel her cold hands with the rings cup my face as i stare at her. "do you think your brother's awake?"

my expression turns into confusion. "um.. no? i don't think so?"

"good" she mumbles against my lips as she kisses me. i let out a soft moan in surprise as i melt into the kiss.

"i knew you weren't a good girl!" my brother jumps from the bed, his finger pointing to se-mi, making us break from the kiss to stare him.

"oh my god where you spying this whole time? you're a fucking-"

"hey careful!" he says, his finger now pointing at me. "now. if you want my sister, i will make your life a living hell" he warns se-mi as she lifts her arms, smiling.

"she's worth it" she says as we both stare at her.

-> and he means it. because even when we leave the game after voting 'x', she warns me many times i'm not allowed to disappear now that she's attached. not like i was going to. but wherever i go, he's also always there too.

and all the guys are also there. even gi-hun, jung-bae and in-ho, warning her every step of the way, as me and jun-hee chuckle. and se-mi starts loving them too, because she's sure she won't be able to get rid of them (she tried!)

with our poor relationship with our father, jung-bae ends up turning into more of a father figure to us, being the one supporting my brother through everything, but also being there for me everyday.

and with time (a lot of family dinners we have together) they start to soften up for her.

-> so it's not a surprise when a few years later, at our wedding, she takes a video of how our life together has been and a video of my brother and jung-bae shows up.

"are you- are you asking us for our blessing?" dae-ho sobs as jung-bae seems to be suppressing his tears. i can hear her laugh, although i can't see her because she was the one recording the video.

"i don't think i would be able to go through it if i didn't" she says, softly.

they're both crying now as they hug her.

"i knew you were the one!" jung-bae says, sobbing like a baby while she laughs.

"we knew it! that's why we went easy on you!" dae-ho says, wiping away his tears.

"yeah, i figured" se-mi says, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

i turn to the side to hug her while i kiss her, laughing as dae-ho and jung-bae stare at the video, blushing red.

"we agreed that was a secret!" jung-bae says, embarrassed as gi-hun hugs him with a chuckle.

"that's-that an edition. se-mi! you said you wouldn't play that" dae-ho says to her as she shrugs.

i cup her face on my hands as she laughs. her gaze meets mine. "i love you so much." my stare filled with love like the first day i met her.

"mh, i love you so much too. happy family, happy wife and happy life right?"

[motherismotheringggg]

I would love if you write some enemies to lovers for nicholas chavez and reader, it could be some like how to lose a guy in 10 days or 10 things i hate about you, something like that, with a happy ending, i dont know exactly, i just know that i love everything that you write ❤️

match point 🎾

summary: based on this lovely request!! i added a tennis element to it because tennis feels very “enemies to lovers” coded to me for some reason

type: nicholas chavez x black plus sized fem reader

tags/warnings: 18+, angst, misread fatphobia (i promise it’s not in there but i don’t wanna trigger anyway), oral (m! and f! receiving), face fucking, cream pie

word count: ~8493

author’s note: confession, i’ve never seen either of those movies and i know i need to!!! either way, i liked this bc im lowkey missing summer rn so this helped — i hope you like it!!!

taglist: @blackynsupremacy , @hoffmansgirl , @emluvsuxo , @ilovecheetahchrome , @nicholaschavezslut69 , @nicholaslut , @niteskysx , @melaninjhs , @pawofassumption

🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾

The cicadas were already singing their lazy summer song when you arrived at the outdoor tennis courts, the air thick with humidity and the faint tang of freshly cut grass. The afternoon sun hung high, its rays bouncing off the court’s faded green surface and making the white lines shimmer like a mirage. You adjusted the strap of your bag, trying to ignore the way sweat was already pooling at the base of your neck, dampening the curls of your wash-and-go style.

This was supposed to be fun—a way to meet new people and settle into a city that still felt foreign and a little lonely. The open lessons had sounded perfect in theory, a casual way to break the ice while learning a new skill. But as you scanned the court, the pit in your stomach deepened.

Clusters of players were already warming up, their easy camaraderie apparent in the way they laughed and called out to one another. Most of them were lean, athletic types, the kind who looked like they spent their weekends hiking or doing yoga. You tugged at the hem of your tank top, suddenly hyper-aware of how it clung to your curves.

“Okay, let’s get started!”

The coach’s voice boomed across the court, drawing your attention. He was wiry and sunburnt, with the kind of leathery skin that suggested decades spent outdoors. A whistle hung around his neck, and his clipboard was already dotted with names and notes.

You moved toward the group, slipping into the back of the huddle as he began assigning partners. The air buzzed with excitement, punctuated by the rhythmic thwack of balls hitting rackets in the distance.

Just as you were beginning to relax, a low murmur rippled through the group. You turned in time to see a tall figure sauntering toward the court.

Nicholas Chavez.

He was the kind of beautiful that made you pause—messy dark hair, honey-brown eyes that seemed to catch the sunlight, and a jawline sharp enough to make you wonder if he’d walked off the pages of a magazine. He wore a black T-shirt and shorts, his broad shoulders and toned arms hinting at a strength that made it clear he wasn’t new to this.

As he got closer, he tossed a lazy glance toward the huddle, his gaze sweeping over the group. When his eyes landed on you, they lingered for a beat too long, and his brow twitched in a way that made your chest tighten.

“All right, let’s pair up,” the coach said, scanning his clipboard. His gaze landed on you, and you braced yourself. “Y/N, you’re with Nick.”

You forced a smile, clutching your racket like a lifeline. This was fine. You could handle this.

But the moment you looked back at Nicholas, you saw it: the flicker of hesitation in his expression, followed by the faintest lift of his brow. He didn’t say anything outright, but his reaction was loud enough. His gaze darted briefly to your shoulders, to the soft curve of your arms, before sliding back to your face with a faint smirk.

It wasn’t the smirk itself that stung—it was the way it felt so dismissive, like you were being appraised and silently deemed not worth the effort.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to catch.

Your stomach sank.

“Problem, Nick?” the coach called out, clearly catching the tail end of his remark.

Nicholas shrugged, spinning his racket lazily in one hand. “Nah,” he said, his voice smooth. “No problem.”

But as he turned and strode toward the far end of the court, his posture radiated a kind of casual arrogance that made your skin crawl.

The sun beat down mercilessly as you followed him to the court, your sneakers crunching against the gritty asphalt. By the time you reached the net, your irritation had reached a slow boil.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you said, trying to keep your tone even.

Nicholas didn’t respond, only gave a half-smile that somehow managed to be both infuriating and devastatingly attractive. He took his position without another word, and you adjusted your grip on the racket, determined to prove yourself.

But it didn’t take long for your annoyance to bubble over. Nicholas wasn’t even trying. He barely moved for volleys, his half-hearted swings making it clear he had no intention of putting in effort. When you lunged to keep the ball in play, your movements fueled by sheer determination, he had the audacity to let out a soft, amused laugh.

“Something funny?” you snapped, straightening as you glared at him.

He leaned casually on his racket, his honey-brown eyes glinting with something that made your pulse race—equal parts amusement and challenge. “You’re working pretty hard for this, huh?”

Your grip tightened. “That’s kind of the point,” you bit out. “It’s called practice.”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “But, you know, maybe you should pace yourself. Wouldn’t want to tire out too quickly.”

The words were innocuous enough, but the way his gaze flicked over you as he said them wasn’t. Your jaw clenched as heat rose to your face, though you weren’t sure if it was anger or embarrassment. Probably both.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said tightly. “I can handle myself.”

“Yeah?” His smirk widened, dimples flashing in a way that made you want to scream. “We’ll see.”

The last few volleys of practice felt like an eternity. The summer sun bore down relentlessly, baking the court and leaving a faint sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. Every muscle in your body ached, and each swing of your racket felt heavier than the last. Meanwhile, Nicholas moved across the court with maddening ease, barely breaking a sweat, his shots precise but lazy, like he wasn’t even trying.

“Good game, everyone!” the coach called out, blowing his whistle to signal the end of practice. Relief washed over you as you dropped your racket and grabbed your water bottle from your bag.

You lowered yourself to the ground with a graceless plop, sitting cross-legged near the sidelines and taking long gulps of water. The cool liquid was a godsend, but the heat still clung to you, making your skin feel sticky. You fanned yourself with one hand, trying to keep your breathing steady.

No one’s looking at you. Relax.

You repeated the mantra in your head, reminding yourself that you weren’t being perceived in the way your mind sometimes tricked you into thinking. Your confidence had always been solid—a hard-earned love for your body and all it had carried you through—but moments like this, when your stamina was stretched thin and the exhaustion was visible, made it easier for doubt to creep in.

“Mind if I join?”

The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see one of the other players—a girl around your age with a friendly smile and braids pulled into a high ponytail—gesturing to the space next to you.

“Go for it,” you said, gesturing for her to sit.

She plopped down beside you, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know about you, but I’m dying out here. Who decided it was a good idea to play tennis in the middle of July?”

You laughed, grateful for the distraction. “Right? I feel like my shoes are melting into the court.”

“I’m Taylor, by the way,” she said, extending a hand.

“Y/N,” you replied, shaking it.

The two of you quickly fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, talking about everything from how intense the coach seemed to the best food spots in the city. Taylor’s humor was sharp and quick, and it wasn’t long before you were laughing so hard your sides ached more than from practice.

Just as you were starting to forget your earlier frustration, a shadow passed over you.

“Take it easy.”

You looked up to see Nicholas strolling by, his racket slung over his shoulder and a water bottle in hand. His tone was light, almost lazy, but the smirk tugging at his lips said otherwise. He didn’t stop walking, didn’t even look back as he delivered the remark.

Your jaw clenched, heat rising to your face—not from the sun this time, but from irritation.

“Is he always like that?” you muttered, glancing at Taylor.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, that’s just Nick. He’s kind of a jerk to everyone.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, standing up and brushing off your legs, “he’s got it down to an art.”

-----

The next practice was even hotter than the first, the summer sun relentless as it beat down on the courts. The air shimmered with heat, and the faint smell of sunscreen mixed with the tang of tennis balls and sweat. You showed up determined to ignore Nicholas entirely, but, unsurprisingly, he made that impossible.

It started when the group was working on backhands. You’d gotten the general motion, but the finer details still felt awkward, and after a few failed attempts, you lowered your racket and turned to the coach. “Sorry, can you show that one more time?” you asked.

Before the coach could answer, Nicholas let out a low whistle, leaning lazily on his racket. “Guess they’re really starting from scratch, huh?”

The words hit you like a sharp jab, and your grip tightened on your racket. Your stomach twisted, but you forced yourself to ignore him, even as irritation bubbled beneath the surface. Instead, you focused on the coach’s demonstration, determined not to let Nicholas’s snide comment throw you off.

Later in practice, you managed to land a sharp, satisfying volley during a rally. The ball skimmed over the net and landed squarely out of Nicholas’s reach. Pride swelled in your chest—until Nicholas turned to the coach, throwing his hands up dramatically.

“Look at that!” he called out, his smirk deepening as dimples framed his maddeningly smug expression. “She hit one!”

Laughter rippled faintly through the group, but all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. Heat crawled up your neck as you turned away, focusing on retrieving the ball and forcing yourself not to react. You clenched your jaw, gripping your racket so hard your knuckles ached.

By the end of practice, you were drenched in sweat, your tank top clinging to your skin, and your curls puffing out in defiance of the humidity. The exhaustion weighed heavy in your limbs, but all you could think about was getting out of there. You had plans to meet Taylor for dinner after, and every second spent on the court felt like it was cutting into your evening.

You tossed your racket into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, ready to bolt, but in your rush, the strap snagged on the bench. The zipper popped open, spilling your belongings onto the ground. Your water bottle rolled a few feet away, sunscreen and a spare shirt landing in a messy pile alongside the small notebook you used to jot down practice tips.

“Need some help?” Taylor asked, crouching down beside you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, hurriedly grabbing your sunscreen as she handed it to you. You scrambled to gather everything, feeling the heat from the court radiating through the soles of your shoes.

Before you could finish zipping up your bag, a shadow loomed over you.

“Careful,” Nicholas said, his voice light and casual, but with that familiar edge of condescension. “You’d probably move faster if you lightened your load a little.”

Your head snapped up, and before you could stop yourself, the words came out: “You’d probably move faster if you actually tried during practice instead of standing around acting like you’re too good for the rest of us.”

The air grew still, the quiet hum of cicadas the only sound as everyone turned to look at you. Your chest heaved as the words hung in the air, hot and sharp, your frustration boiling over in full view of the group.

Nicholas paused for a moment, then tilted his head slightly, his lips quirking into an infuriatingly lazy smile. “The heat’s getting to everyone, huh?”

A few of the other players chuckled awkwardly, but your glare didn’t waver. He didn’t even seem fazed, casually slinging his racket over his shoulder like nothing had happened.

“See you next time,” he said, his voice light as he turned and strolled off, leaving you standing there with your fists clenched.

Taylor rose to her feet beside you, muttering under her breath. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“I know” you said, your voice tight as you choked back tears, while you zipped up your bag and slung it over your shoulder.

As you walked off the court, your mind raced. No one had ever been able to needle you like this before, and it wasn’t just frustrating—it was confusing. You weren’t sure what Nicholas’s problem was.

-----

You decided to skip the next practice. You told yourself it was to give your body a break from the brutal summer heat and all the drills, but deep down, you knew the real reason: Nicholas Chavez. His smirks, his snide comments, the way he always managed to needle you just right—it had all been too much. You needed a breather.

Still, the itch to move lingered. By the evening time, when the sun had finally dipped enough to make the air bearable, you headed to the gym near the courts. You timed it perfectly, arriving after practice would’ve ended and to ensure no one else would be there.

The place was empty, just the quiet hum of the overhead fans and the rhythmic thump of your sneakers against the polished floor. You felt freer here, confident enough to shed your usual layers. In your sports bra and athletic shorts, you stretched, tying your curls up into a puff before grabbing your racket.

You put on your headphones and cranked up the volume, letting the beat drown out the world as you stepped onto the court. You started with easy volleys, but it didn’t take long for your pent-up frustration to bubble up. With every swing, you hit the ball against the wall at full power and speed, the sharp crack of impact echoing in the empty space. Each hit felt like a release—a way to channel all the irritation that Nicholas had stirred up in you.

You were in the zone, so focused on the rhythm of the ball and the music blasting in your ears that you barely noticed someone calling your name. It wasn’t until a break between songs that the sound finally cut through.

You froze mid-swing, turning to see none other than Nicholas standing near the entrance, his bag slung over one shoulder.

Of course.

You yanked back one side of your headphones, your annoyance flaring immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, walking toward you with that infuriatingly easy confidence.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. Practice had ended two hours ago. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Gym’s empty, thought I’d get a quick practice in,” he continued, his tone casual. Then, with a tilt of his head, he added, “Didn’t mean to interrupt. You were really going at it.”

You rolled your eyes, already tempted to pack up and leave. But before you could move, he gestured to your racket.

“You’ve got a killer forehand,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of genuine admiration. “I saw that last one before I came in. Honestly… I wouldn’t mind if you showed me how you did it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. But the irritation was still simmering, and it bubbled over before you could stop yourself.

“Are you joking?” you said dryly. “You’ve been absolutely insufferable since the moment I met you. You’ve made me feel weird and out of place every single practice, and now you’re acting like none of that happened?”

Nicholas raised his hands, palms out, as if in surrender, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—amusement. He chuckled under his breath, which only made your temper flare more.

“And if you have a problem with fat girls,” you said, your voice sharp as you stared him down, “then just say it.”

The laugh died on his lips. For the first time since you’d met him, Nicholas looked caught off guard. His brows furrowed, and he shook his head quickly. “Wait—what? No. That’s not—”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I never meant to make you feel like that. I swear. I was just… being an idiot. Trying to be funny, I guess. Clearly, I failed at that.” His voice softened, and then he added, “For what it’s worth, I don’t have a problem with you. At all. You’re…” He hesitated, his gaze sweeping over you for a moment. “You’re hot. And you’ve got a killer body. I mean that.”

You blinked, stunned into silence. Of all the things you’d expected him to say, that hadn’t even been on the list.

For a moment, you just stared at him, your fiery temper cooling as his words settled in. There was something about the way he said it—cool and flirty, sure, but also sincere—that left you completely disarmed.

Finally, you exhaled and nodded. “Okay. Apology accepted.”

Nicholas smiled, this time a smirk of surrender rather than that familiar smirk as he took a step back toward his bag. “Guess I’ll leave you to it, then—”

“Wait.”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder as you crossed your arms.

“You almost made me cry you know,” you said, your tone light but teasing. “So I think you owe me. In the form of walking me home—after I show you the move.”

His smirk widened, and he stepped back onto the court. “Deal.”

The two of you spent the next fifteen minutes practicing together. Nicholas was attentive, actually listening as you explained the technique, and for the first time, it felt… easy.

When the session ended, you walked side by side through the quiet streets, the summer air cooler now that the sun had set. The conversation flowed effortlessly—where you were both from, your favorite songs, the best smoothie spots after practice. By the time you reached your apartment building, you’d almost forgotten the Nicholas who’d made practice so unbearable.

There was a moment of silence as you stopped in front of your door. Nicholas glanced down at you, his honey-brown eyes warm under the glow of the streetlights.

You tilted your head, standing on your toes to get a little closer. With a smirk, you said, “And if you thought one itty bitty overdue apology was going to get me, you really need to get out more.”

Before he could respond, you patted him on the shoulder, turned, and headed inside.

“Good night, Nick,” you called over your shoulder.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Good night, Y/N.”

-----

Over the next few weeks, something shifted between you and Nicholas. The jabs weren’t as sharp anymore, and the underlying venom had slowly been replaced by something else—something more playful, teasing, but still competitive.

You found yourself walking to practice together more often, your casual banter now peppered with teasing remarks, both of you pushing each other to be better. There was no denying that your attraction to him had grown—you’d try to shake it off at first, convincing yourself that the snarky, flirtatious back-and-forth was just that. But deep down, you knew it was something more.

Sometimes, after practice, you both stopped for smoothies. The conversation was easy, as if you’d known each other for years. You found yourself drawn to his dry humor, the way he would effortlessly make jokes even about the smallest things. You’d roll your eyes, but inside, you were smiling. There was a charm to him that you couldn’t quite ignore.

But despite the playful comments and flirtation, there was still a part of you that couldn’t tell if he was just being his usual cocky self or if there was something deeper there. After all, he’d told you that you were hot and even almost kissing you—yet it never felt like enough to confirm that he liked you back.

One afternoon, after practice, the two of you decided to hang back for some extra practice, the court still warm from the sun. The air was heavy with the scent of summer, but you were both determined to squeeze out a little more work. After a while, you both collapsed on the ground, breathless from the intensity.

As you went into your cool-down stretches, you groaned, stretching out your legs. “My legs are so tight,” you muttered, rolling your shoulders to relieve some of the tension.

Nicholas, ever the opportunist, watched you for a beat before giving you a crooked grin. “You know, I can help with that.”

You raised an eyebrow, but before you could respond, he was already moving to you.

“Lay on your back,” he instructed, and you did so without thinking.

He positioned himself between your legs as he gently lifted your right one, and pushed it back toward your chest. The strain on your muscles felt good, but the proximity of him only added to the tension. He didn’t seem to notice—at least, you hoped he didn’t—but when you let out an involuntary moan as your muscles stretched, the sound echoed across the empty court.

You froze, eyes widening, your face flushing with embarrassment. You quickly laughed to cover it up. “Echoing like that is crazy” you muttered, trying to brush it off.

Nicholas, ever the one to make light of the situation, chuckled. “Noted,” he said, voice teasing, his grin wide. “Definitely a screamer.”

You shot him a playful glare, but the heat from his words lingered as you pushed him off, “You’re so gross,” you gave him a playful nudge, finishing the stretching on your own.

The teasing didn’t stop there. A few days later, after another long practice, you and Nicholas were gathering your things when he said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, “I’ll be waiting for you in the shower, Y/N.”

No one knew the brewing tension between you too and just assumed Nicholas was his typical joking self, causing everyone to burst into chuckles.

Taylor, standing beside you, nudged you playfully. “Oh, come on. You gotta give me the details,” she whispered, practically bouncing with excitement.

Before you could answer, one of the older women on the team—Barbara, a rich and eccentric lady with a flair for drama—stepped forward, her eyes twinkling. “My pool was just refinished,” she announced grandly, hands raised as if unveiling a masterpiece. “And I’m throwing a little party this weekend to celebrate. You’re all invited!”

The room went silent for a moment before the chatter picked up again, everyone was excited about the prospect of a pool party, but you were still stuck on what Nicholas had said. His voice echoed in your head, making your pulse race.

---

You and Taylor slid into one of the cozy booths at your favorite smoothie place, the smell of fresh fruit and the hum of casual conversations filling the air. Taylor was practically bouncing in her seat, eyes wide with excitement as she shoved her açaí bowl aside and leaned forward, giving you her full attention.

“So, wait,” she said, eyes locked on yours. “You moaned out loud!?” She looked at you in disbelief, almost spitting out her bowl as she struggled to keep it together.

You nodded slowly, fighting back a laugh as she tried to process everything. “Yeah, it was—uh, kind of an accident.”

“No!” she gasped, her voice rising a little too loudly for the cozy shop. “You two almost had sex on the court!”

You quickly shushed her, looking around to make sure no one had overheard. You were already feeling the heat of your embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Shh! Taylor, you’re gonna get us thrown out,” you hissed, barely able to hold back your own laughter.

Taylor put her hand over her mouth, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Sorry, sorry,” she whispered dramatically, though she was clearly struggling not to laugh.

“But I don’t know what to do. He’s so confusing, Tay.” Your face was hot as you tried to steady yourself.

Taylor raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat. “Babe, what’s confusing? He so clearly wants you to ride him like it’s no tomorrow!”

You rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips, “I don’t know, he’s hot but am I really gonna fuck a go I met at club tennis?”, you picked up your smoothie to sip.

There was a pause between you two before unanimously responding,

“Yes”

You both burst into laughter, the patrons of the smoothie shop, including a family with a small child, shot you both looks.

“Okay, okay, here’s what I’m thinking.” Taylor shot up straighter, practically bouncing in her seat now. “After the pool party this weekend, we’ll come back to your apartment, hang out for a while. Then I’ll slip out and leave you two alone. You won’t have any distractions, and you’ll be in your space. So it’s just you, him.”

“You’ve thought about this, huh?” you shot her a slick look, eyes squinted with a smile.

“From the second you two were paired up, yes!” she grabbed uo Nike duffel bag and smoothie, Shooting up from the booth, “Come on, let’s go bikini shopping!” she called out from the shop door.

------

You and Taylor arrived at Barbara’s house, pulling up to the towering gates of a mansion that could only be described as extravagant. As you drove through the gates, you couldn't help but marvel at the meticulously manicured grounds, the sprawling lawn, and the grandiose architecture.

The house itself was a statement of wealth—an impressive Mediterranean-style villa complete with marble pillars, wide open terraces, and windows so large they almost felt like walls of glass. Barbara’s backyard was even more ridiculous, the pool area a luxurious oasis, with a hot tub, waterfall features, and a fully equipped outdoor kitchen. The scent of freshly grilled food wafted in the air, and the sound of music played from outdoor speakers, giving the entire scene a carefree, almost surreal vibe.

You and Taylor were among the first to arrive, but a few other teammates were already there, mingling and laughing by the pool. You couldn’t help but notice the energy—everyone was in high spirits, laughing, talking, and basking in the summer warmth. You and Taylor dropped your things by a lounge chair, and she immediately began making suggestions about your outfit, insisting you needed something to grab Nicholas’s attention.

“Trust me,” Taylor said, eyeing you up and down. “If Nicholas doesn’t jump on you the second he sees this, he’s an idiot.”

She was referring to the white bikini set you were wearing, with cute red cherries printed all over the top and bottom. You had picked it out impulsively, but Taylor’s enthusiasm made you feel even better about the choice. You stripped off your cover-up and walked toward the pool with Taylor at your side, trying to keep the nerves at bay. Music played from the speakers as people were already enjoying the pool, splashing around and lounging under the sun. The air smelled like sunscreen, chlorine, and summer—the perfect atmosphere for a party.

You felt the cool water on your toes as you entered, your body immediately relaxing. The food spread was tempting, and the drinks were flowing, but your attention kept drifting to the entrance. You kept glancing back toward the gate, waiting for him to arrive. Every time someone walked in, your stomach dropped, thinking it was Nicholas. It wasn’t. And the anticipation was starting to feel almost painful.

Then, he finally walked in.

It was as if he stepped through the door in slow motion—his entrance completely owning the room. Nicholas was wearing nothing but a pair of trunks, no shirt, and damn, he looked incredible. His body was... perfect. His abs were defined, his chest was bulky but still ripped, the muscles in his arms were sharp, and even the way his trunks hung just low enough made your heart skip a beat. You wanted to look away, pretend like you weren’t even interested, but it was hard to ignore someone who looked like that.

You quickly turned your attention to the people around you, trying to act like you hadn’t just caught sight of him walking in. You didn’t want to seem eager, even though your stomach was flipping with the idea of what was about to happen.

It wasn’t long before Nicholas made his way toward the pool, walking over to the edge closest to you. He kneeled down, his eyes locking onto you as he flashed that trademark smirk, the one that made your chest tighten.

“So, how’s the water?” he asked, his voice smooth but with an edge of humor, as his eyes roamed and settled on your breasts as they bobbed in the water creating small waves.

You didn’t want to show how much his attention affected you, so you smirked back and shot a casual reply. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” You gestured to the pool with a mischievous look, inviting him to join you.

He took your cue, tossing his towel to the side and stepping into the water, the ripples spreading outward as he made his way toward you. There was no hiding the fact that you both had a simmering tension, but neither of you was willing to be the first to acknowledge it outright. You exchanged jabs and playful comments as you stood in the shallow end, water splashing around your legs.

After a while, Nicholas shifted, making his way deeper into the pool. You hesitated, not really a strong swimmer, and preferred to stay where you could touch the bottom.

“You coming?” he asked, his tone teasing, eyes glinting with that same challenge you were so used to.

“I’m good here,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You go ahead.”

“You think I’d let anything happen to you?” he said with a wink. “I’ll keep you safe.”

There was something in his eyes that made it hard to say no. Reluctantly, you nodded. He extended his hand toward you, and you took it, letting him help you deeper into the water. The further you went, the higher the water got, eventually reaching just below your chin. When it was too deep for you to touch the bottom, he pulled you close, his chest pressing against yours in an embrace that left you breathless.

Before you could react, you instinctively wrapped your legs around him for support, and his arms came around your waist, pulling you in closer. You could feel his abs press against your stomach, his chest tight against yours, and—damn—it was hard to ignore the feeling of his body against yours, especially when you could feel him getting hard against you.

“Whoa,” he chuckled, his voice low and smooth as his hands settled around your waist. “Right here? In front of everyone?.” His tone is laced with the sarcastic tone that turned you on.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. “I’m just trying to make sure I don’t drown, if i don’t want mouth-to-mouth from you”

Nicholas grinned, and the heat in his eyes made you feel like he was already undressing you with his gaze. “Well you rejected me once…,” he said, pulling you in closer, the muscle in his chest pressing against your stomach. His breath was steady, but you could feel his pulse quicken as he looked down at you.

You tried to ignore the way his body felt so firm and close to yours, focusing instead on your usual digs. “And yet, you clearly love a chase” you asked, tilting your head with a smirk.”

His lips quirked up into a smile, his eyes catching yours. “It’s not so much a chase at this point,” His grip tightened around your waist, and you could feel the subtle pressure of his muscles beneath the water. “The way your legs are wrapped around me right now…I thought I’d have to work a lot harder for that.”

You paused as your heart skipped a beat. You shot him a playful glare, “I actually don’t have a comeback for that,” your tone feigned a playful retreat. “But I wanna grab some of the fruit salad so can you carry me back to the edge stud?”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching as if to suppress a laugh. “Well you’re losing with such grace, it’s the least I could do,” he said, his tone just slick enough to make your cheeks warm.

With an almost effortless motion, he floated you back toward the shallow end of the pool, the cool water rippling around you both. As soon as your feet touched the floor, you shifted to stand, but not before leaning in closer for one last jab.

You tilted your head toward him, lowering your voice just enough for only him to hear. “Oh, and by the way,” you said, smirking as you pushed a curl out of your face, “I wouldn’t say you’ve ‘won.’ The second I wrapped my legs around you, you were hard enough to poke a hole in my side.”

His breath hitched, his smirk faltering just slightly as his eyes widened in surprise. Before he could even process what you’d said, you winked and turned, pulling yourself up out of the water.

The air hit your skin, and as you stepped out, the droplets of water cascading down your body caught the sun, making your skin look like it was glowing. Your plush thighs flexed slightly with each step, your full hips swaying effortlessly as the cherry-printed bikini clung perfectly to every curve. Your stomach, soft and inviting, peeked out between the swimsuit pieces, the water droplets trailing down like a path Nicholas couldn’t help but follow with his eyes.

He swallowed hard, his blush deepening as his gaze lingered, clearly torn between being turned on and completely dumbfounded by your boldness.

You grabbed your towel, wrapping it loosely around your waist as you glanced back at him, your lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “Have fun cooling off, Nick,” you said over your shoulder, your voice light and teasing as you walked toward the fruit table.

Nicholas stood there for a moment, chest still heaving slightly as he watched you disappear into the crowd. “Damn,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head with a faint, incredulous smile.

----

The backyard was buzzing with conversation and laughter as everyone ate, spread out across the lawn. The sun had slipped behind a layer of clouds, casting a muted gray light over Barbara’s extravagant outdoor setup. The clouds grew heavier, and though rain wasn’t in the forecast, everyone kept a wary eye on the sky.

You and Taylor sat together near the edge of the patio, chatting while finishing your burgers. Taylor leaned in, her tone playful. “So,” she started, waggling her eyebrows, “Are we gonna talk about you and Nicholas basically dry-humping in the pool earlier?”

You choked on your laugh, covering your mouth as you shook your head. “Taylor!” you said through a fit of giggles. “We were not!”

Taylor smirked, shrugging as she took another bite of her food. “Could’ve fooled me. You were all wrapped up around him like a koala.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, fine. But I think it’s going well. He’s definitely into me,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Taylor grinned, pleased. “Good! Finally!” she said, clinking her drink against yours. She started to ask what time you thought you should leave, but before she could finish, the sky opened up, and fat raindrops began to fall.

The peaceful scene turned into chaos as everyone scrambled to grab their things and get inside. Barbara, ever the eccentric host, ushered everyone toward the house, waving her hands dramatically as she shouted instructions. By the time you made it inside, you were damp from the sudden downpour, but at least you’d saved your plate.

Inside, everyone piled into the living room, which was decorated with retro, ’70s-inspired furniture. The centerpiece was a sunken conversation pit, complete with vibrant orange cushions and a massive coffee table in the middle.

Barbara clapped her hands together, her jewelry jangling with the movement. “Well, that was unexpected! I’m absolutely exhausted from hosting, so I’m heading upstairs,” she announced, sweeping a hand toward the stairs. “Feel free to hang out or head out whenever. Make yourselves at home!”

She disappeared in a flurry of gold bangles and silk, leaving the rest of you to settle in. The team naturally split into smaller groups, conversations bubbling up in various corners of the room. Nicholas wandered over and plopped down next to you and Taylor on the oversized cushions.

It didn’t take long before the two of you were completely in sync, your bodies naturally gravitating toward each other. At one point, your legs were thrown casually over his lap, his hand resting on your calf as you both laughed about something Taylor had said. Later, he laid down with his head in your lap, and without thinking, you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers. When he sat back up, you leaned against his shoulder, his arm brushing against yours, the closeness sparking something you couldn’t ignore.

At some point, Barbara’s husband asked Nicholas to help bring in some of the grilling supplies left outside. He reluctantly got up, leaving you and Taylor alone.

Taylor didn’t waste a second, leaning in with a grin so wide it practically split her face. “This is happening! I knew it!” she whispered excitedly.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress your smile. “Okay, fine, it’s happening. But don’t make it weird.”

Taylor waved you off. “When he gets back, we should all head out—leave you two alone to keep this momentum going.”

You were about to agree when your phone buzzed. It was a text from Nicholas.

Nicholas:

Hey, I think someone left their purse outside. Is it yours?

You frowned, intrigued, but got up to check it out. You told Taylor you’d be right back and headed down the hallway toward the kitchen, which led to the back patio.

But just as you passed the guest bathroom, a hand reached out and gently grabbed your arm, pulling you inside.

Before you could even react, the door clicked shut behind you, and you found yourself pressed against it, your back meeting the cool wood. Nicholas was standing inches away, his chest brushing against yours with each shallow breath. His eyes bore into yours, warm and intense, and you could feel the heat radiating off him in the confined space.

Your voice low and teasing, “That was a pretty smart text. Almost convincing.”

His lips curved into that familiar smirk, and he leaned in just enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice rough and dripping with confidence. “I do like the chase.”

Before you could respond, his hands slid to your hips, pulling you flush against him. The weight of his body pressed into yours, and you felt his grip tighten as your shoulder blades pressed into the door.

Your arms instinctively draped over his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the nape of his neck. For a moment, you just stared into his eyes, the air between you charged with anticipation.

“Well?” you said, your voice sly and challenging. “You gonna keep me waiting, or…?”

That was all it took. Nicholas closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and hypnotic, his mouth soft and deliberate as he explored yours. It was the kind of kiss that made the world around you disappear, leaving only the two of you in the haze of each other’s touch.

His hands slid from your hips to cup your face, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. When he finally broke away to trail his lips down your jawline to your neck, your breath hitched. He seemed to know exactly where to go, instinctively finding the spots that made your pulse race, kissing and biting gently at your skin.

Your hands tightened on his shoulders, your body arching into him as he pressed his lips to the sensitive curve of your neck. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands slid up the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as if spurring him on, pulling him closer. Nicholas groaned softly against your lips, his hands tightening on your hips as the kiss deepened, each movement deliberate and consuming. He kissed you like he didn’t want to let go, his lips moving against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless.

His fingers brushed the strings of your bikini top, his touch lingering as if asking for permission. When you didn’t pull away, he gently tugged, the fabric slipping from your shoulders and falling effortlessly between you. He broke the kiss, his hands still resting at your waist, and leaned back just slightly to look at you.

The way his eyes widened, drinking in the sight of you, made your heart race. It wasn’t just lust—it was awe, the kind that made you feel worshiped under his gaze. “Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and almost reverent. “I knew your body was insane, but…”

You didn’t even have time to laugh or respond because he leaned forward, taking your hard nipple into his mouth. His lips latched on, a low moan escaping as he suckled softly. His tongue flicked against the sensitive peak, sending shivers down your spine, and your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, fingers tangling as you held him close.

Nicholas alternated between gentle licks and firmer sucks, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His free hand trailed over your other breast, his thumb brushing across your other nipple with deliberate slowness, amplifying the heat building in your core.

You let out a soft whimper, your back arching as his mouth worked you over. The sound seemed to spur him on, and his hand tightened on your waist, pulling you even closer as if he wanted to devour every inch of you.

When he finally released your nipple with a soft pop, his eyes locked onto yours. They were dark with desire, a slight smirk playing on his lips as if he was proud of the effect he had on you.

You didn’t let him have the upper hand for long. Sliding your hands to his jaw, you pulled him up, your lips crashing into his in a kiss that was equal parts fiery and tender. As your mouths moved together, you guided him toward the counter, taking control of the moment.

With his back pressed against the edge of the countertop, you broke the kiss, your lips brushing his ear, he took a sharp inhale that had a hiss to it. “You want me to take care of you baby?” You whispered, your tone playful but laced with promise.

Nicholas let out a soft laugh, he tried to play it cool but he was too weak to actually speak. Completely wowed by your dominance, his breath catching as you kissed lower, leaving a trail of heat in your wake.

Your confidence grew with each reaction you pulled from him, his head tilting back as your mouth explored him. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles white as you kissed down his torso, feeling the taut muscles beneath your lips.

When you dropped to your knees in front of him, his breath hitched, and his gaze snapped down to meet yours. The anticipation in his eyes was undeniable, his lips parted as he watched your every move with a hunger that sent a thrill through you.

Your fingers toyed with the hem of his trunks, your lips pressing soft, teasing kisses along his hips before you slowly tugged the fabric down. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, his arousal impossible to ignore. The sight of him made your pulse race, but you kept your composure, wrapping your hand around him and planting soft, deliberate kisses on his tip.

Each kiss sent a shiver through him, his body tensing under your touch. His breathing grew heavier, and you could feel his restraint slipping with every press of your lips. When you finally took him into your mouth, his head fell back instantly, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips.

His chocolate-brown hair, still slick from the pool and rain, framed his face as he clenched his jaw, struggling to hold himself together. Your movements were deliberate, your head bobbing with a rhythm that drove him wild. Each time your tongue swirled over him, his moans grew louder, his resolve to stay quiet crumbling.

“Y/N,” he groaned, your name tumbling from his lips before he quickly covered his mouth with one hand, muffling the sound. The sight of him trying so hard to keep control only spurred you on.

When the pressure became too much, his hand slid to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you with slow, calculated thrusts. His hips bucked gently into you, each movement precise as he tried not to lose himself completely.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he murmured, his voice rough and breathy.

You glanced up at him, your eager eyes meeting his dazed, pleasure-filled ones. The vulnerability in his gaze made you feel powerful, and when he saw the look on your face, his lips curled into a weak smile.

“Just like that, baby,” he cooed, his voice breaking slightly as he tightened his grip on your hair. “Keep that pretty mouth open for me.”

Just then, he pushed himself to the black of your throat, keeping your head there until you gagged a little, pushing off of him. He leaned down to kiss you, gently slapping your face, “good girl”.

Nicholas helped you to your feet, his lips crashing onto yours in a deep, hungry kiss before he turned you around. You caught your reflection in the mirror, his eyes devouring you, and felt a rush as he slowly slid down your bikini bottoms.

He dropped to his knees, hands gripping your ass as he began to lap at you from behind. The sensation made your knees tremble, and when his tongue flicked over your sensitive nerves, you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped you. Your back arched instinctively, and you moved your hips, grinding against his face as he held you steady, his grip firm on your hips.

His lips wrapped around you, sucking gently, and you gasped his name, desperate for more. "Please, Nick, fuck me— I want you so bad," you begged, your voice ragged with need. He didn’t hesitate, his tongue more insistent, more eager.

A finger slipped inside, but as the pressure built, you felt yourself on the edge. "Nick, I’m gonna cum... please!" you cried out.

In one swift motion, he rose, positioning himself behind you. As he slid inside, a sharp breath left his lips, the tightness and warmth surrounding him almost too much. He slapped your ass, the sound echoing through the room as he began thrusting slowly, deliberately, making sure you felt every inch of him.

"You’re so fucking tight," he murmured, the words sending a shiver through your spine.

"Fuck, you’re so wet," he groaned, his pace picking up, his hands now gripping you tighter.

"You feel so good, baby," Nicholas continued, his praises falling from his lips, each one spurring you on.

Every time you dipped your head in pleasure, he tugged at your hair, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. "Look at yourself, baby girl. Look how good you look taking me."

The sound of your bodies meeting filled the bathroom, and you couldn’t help but wonder how no one heard you. But it didn’t matter— it only fueled the fire inside you. With each thrust, you arched deeper, matching his pace, your body consumed by the pleasure.

You found yourself in control of the situation as you thew yourself into Nicholas, he thre his hands up surrendering to your will. He moaned out while you braced yourself on the counter to continue your pace.

You gripped the edge of the counter, using it for leverage as you set the pace. Your back arched even more, alternating between consistent movements and then pulling back, just to take him all the way in. You pushed your hips back, forcing him deeper inside, making him groan in response.

“Fuck, baby... you’re so fucking nasty, I love it,” Nicholas breathed, his arms wrapping around your torso as his pace picked up.

His hands slid from your waist to your hips, his grip tightening. With a sudden, forceful pull, he yanked you back against him, taking control, and in one smooth motion, he began to set the pace himself.

You gasped, unable to stop the way your body reacted, completely at his mercy. His thrusts were hard and fast, each one driving you forward, your hands struggling to stay steady on the counter as the force of his movements pushed you closer to the edge.

“You like that, don’t you?” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “You like me taking control.”

You couldn’t help but moan in response, your body giving in to his every move. “Yes, Nick... fuck, yes,” you panted.

His pace grew frantic as he increased the pressure, his hands gripping your hips to steady you as he fucked you harder. His breathing became more ragged, his movements more desperate as he chased his own release.

“Fuck, baby... I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his voice strained, and you could feel the tension building in his body.

With one final, deep thrust, Nicholas pushed you over the edge. He came inside you with a low, guttural moan, his body tensing as he emptied himself. You followed close behind, your body trembling in ecstasy as you felt him finish, both of you catching your breath in the aftermath.

He stayed inside you for a moment, his hands still gripping your hips as he tried to steady himself. Slowly, he pulled out, his lips brushing the back of your neck in a tender kiss as he whispered, talked you down.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 25 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇Pairing: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇ignore how this came out so late (written pre Ithaca)

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

In the dimly lit hallway of the palace, Y/N moved swiftly, her hand tightly clutching Telemachus’s wrist as she led him through a hidden doorway, a frustrated Acrisios trailing behind them. The secret passageway was narrow, damp, and nearly silent, save for the soft scuffle of their hurried steps. Once the door shut behind them, the faint echoes of the suitors’ laughter and shouting were muffled entirely. “What is this place?” Acrisios whispered, his voice low but full of irritation.

“A passageway that was built inside the palace walls,” she replied curtly, not slowing her pace. “We don’t have much time. They’ll notice the ship is missing soon.” They entered her room through a cleverly disguised panel in the wall, and y/n immediately barred the hidden door with a sturdy latch. Telemachus straightened up, his brows furrowed in thought.

“We need to take them down,” he said firmly, pacing as if the confined space didn’t exist. “If we strike strategically, we can—”

“No,” she interrupted sharply, crossing her arms. “We’re not going anywhere. Not with just the three of us.”

Telemachus turned to her, his expression a mixture of determination and disbelief. “Y/N, we can’t just hide in here. They’re planning to kill me—and then they’ll force my mother into marriage. Are you suggesting we just sit here and let them win?”

Her face softened for a moment before hardening again. “I’m suggesting we stay alive. There are too many of them. Do you even know how many suitors are in the hall right now? At least a hundred. What can three people do against that?”

“We have the element of surprise,” Telemachus argued. “And we have me. I know how to handle a blade, and i have Athena’s strength.”

“And they have dozens of blades, and plenty of strength.” She countered, stepping closer. “If you think I’m letting you march out there and get yourself killed, you’re out of your mind.”

Acrisios sighed loudly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “She has a point. I’m not exactly keen on dying in some stupid ambush just because you’ve got something to prove, Telemachus.”

“I’m not proving anything!” Telemachus snapped, glaring at Acrisios before turning back to her. “This isn’t about me—it’s about Ithaca, about my mother, about you. If we don’t act, we lose everything.”

She shook her head, her tone softening. “And if we act recklessly, we lose you. I can’t…” Her voice caught, but she quickly composed herself. “I can’t watch you die, Telemachus. Not after everything.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of their predicament pressing down on all of them. Acrisios cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing between the two. “So, what’s the brilliant plan, then? We just camp out in this tiny room while the suitors run the palace into the ground?”

She met his gaze, her expression resolute. “We wait. We think. We survive. Until we have a real plan—or reinforcements—we’re staying here.” Telemachus hesitated, his fists clenched at his sides. He hated feeling helpless, hated the idea of waiting while the suitors roamed freely. But the look in her eyes—the fear, the determination—softened his resolve.

“Fine,” he muttered, finally sitting down on the edge of her bed. “But we can’t wait forever.”

“We won’t,” she promised, her voice firm. She turned to Acrisios. “Help me keep watch. We’ll figure this out.”

As the tension in the room began to ease slightly, Telemachus glanced at the hidden door, his jaw tightening. Waiting wasn’t in his nature, but for now, he’d have to trust her instincts.

——

Y/N glanced at the tense faces of Telemachus and Acrisios before taking a deep breath. “Stay here,” she instructed.

Telemachus’s head snapped up. “What?”

“I’m going to see what’s happening. All the noise—it’s coming from the throne room.”

“No!” Telemachus exclaimed, standing up abruptly. “You can’t just walk out there. It’s too dangerous.”

She held up a hand to silence him. “I’ll be fine. They’re too busy trying to one up each other to care about me. I’ll be quick.”

“Y/N—”

“Stay here,” she repeated firmly, her eyes locking with his. Then, without another word, she slipped out through the hidden door before either of them could stop her. The sound of raised voices grew louder as she neared the throne room. She stepped into the shadows just outside the entrance, peeking inside cautiously. The sight before her made her stomach churn. The suitors were gathered in a semicircle around

Antinous, standing at the center of the group, raised a hand for silence. “Enough!” His voice cut through the noise like a blade. “We’ll take turns. But let’s be honest, gentlemen—we all know I’m the only one capable of such a feat.”

She frowned from her hiding spot. She wanted to barge in and call him out on his arrogance, but she held herself back, her curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama. One by one, the suitors stepped forward to try their hand at stringing the bow. Each failed miserably, their boasts turning into frustrated mutters. As the last of them failed, an unfamiliar voice spoke up from the back of the room.

“May I have a turn?”

All heads turned toward the source of the voice. A hunched old man, cloaked in tattered robes, shuffled forward. His face was weathered, and his eyes gleamed with a strange intensity. A murmur spread through the suitors.

“Who is that?”

“An old beggar? Has Penelope really stooped this low?”

Antinous sneered, stepping toward the old man. “You? String this bow? Don’t make me laugh.” He gestured at the man’s frail form. “You can barely stand, let alone wield a weapon of Odysseus’s caliber.”

The old man didn’t flinch. He merely shrugged. “Strength comes in many forms, my lord. All I ask is a chance.”

Antinous threw his head back and laughed, the sound grating on her nerves. “You think we’d let a beggar humiliate us? You’re lucky we let you stand in our presence, old man.” She clenched her fists, her eyes narrowing as she watched the exchange. Something about the old man seemed… familiar. She couldn’t place it, but there was an air of quiet confidence about him that reminded her of someone she couldn’t name.

Antinous scowled but stepped back. “Fine,” he spat. “Let the old fool embarrass himself. It’ll give us something to laugh about later.” She watched intently as the old man approached the bow, his movements slow but deliberate. Something told her this moment would change everything.

——

The throne room descended into chaos as the disguised Odysseus, now fully revealed, strung his legendary bow with ease. The twang of the string echoed like thunder, silencing the few remaining suitors who hadn’t yet fled. His first arrow flew, piercing the throat of the nearest suitor, sending him crumpling to the ground in a gurgle. Screams erupted, and the suitors scrambled for the exits, desperate to escape the storm they had unwittingly unleashed.

Her heart pounded as she stood frozen, hidden behind one of the columns near the entrance. She wanted to scream, to cry out for her brother Antinous, but fear rooted her in place. She watched in horror as Odysseus continued his calculated slaughter, each arrow finding its mark with deadly precision. Antinous dove for cover, dragging Eurymachus with him behind an overturned table. “Stay down!” he hissed, his mind racing as he struggled to process what was happening.

She finally tore her gaze away from the carnage, her instincts screaming for her to run. She stumbled out of the room, pushing past the fleeing suitors, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The sight of Odysseus—the sheer fury in his eyes—was burned into her mind. In the hidden passageway, Telemachus sat impatiently with Acrisios, the muffled screams and sounds of violence reaching their ears. He jumped to his feet, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his sword.

“What’s happening?” Acrisios asked, alarmed.

“I don’t know, but it’s not good,” Telemachus replied, already heading for the secret door.

“Wait—Telemachus!” Acrisios called after him, but Telemachus was already gone.

Telemachus emerged cautiously into the now-silent hall, stepping over fallen bodies as his eyes darted around the room. His heart sank when he saw the blood soaked man standing near the center, Odysseus’s bow still in his hands. The man turned to face him, his features harsh and unfamiliar in the dim light, his chest heaving from exertion. “Who are you?” Telemachus demanded, his voice trembling but firm as he raised his sword. “What have you done?”

Odysseus paused, his eyes softening slightly as he regarded his son for the first time in twenty years. “Telemachus—”

“Stay back!” Telemachus shouted, stepping forward with his sword pointed directly at Odysseus. “You monster! How could you do this? You’re no better than the suitors you killed!”

Odysseus faltered, his heart aching at the accusation. “Telemachus, listen to me—”

“I said stay away!” Telemachus’s voice cracked as he took another step forward. “If you take another step, I’ll kill you!” Y/N, still trembling, peeked from the corridor, her heart sinking at the sight of Telemachus standing off against Odysseus. She wanted to intervene but found herself unable to move, caught between the man she loved and the chaos that had unfolded in front of her.

Acrisio finally caught up, skidding to a halt beside her. He took one look at the scene and muttered, “What in Hades is going on?”

Whe whispered, her voice barely audible, “That’s not just any man. That’s Odysseus.” Acrisios’s jaw dropped as he realized what was unfolding before his eyes. “Gods help us all,” he muttered.

Odysseus stepped forward cautiously, lowering the bow to the ground. His eyes—weathered, piercing, and full of an emotion Telemachus couldn’t yet place—were fixed on his son. He raised his hands, palms outward in a gesture of peace. “Telemachus, stop,” Odysseus said softly. “Put the sword down, my boy.”

Telemachus’s grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white. “Don’t call me that. My father is dead. You’re just a murderer pretending to be him.” The words stung, but Odysseus stood his ground. “I am your father. I’ve returned to Ithaca, to you, to your mother. After all these years, I’ve come home.”

“You’re lying!” Telemachus shouted, his voice cracking with a mix of fury and confusion. His chest heaved as he fought to steady himself.

Odysseus took another step forward, his voice calm but firm. “Do you remember the scar on my thigh? The one I got when I was younger, hunting a boar on Mount Parnassus? You must have heard the story from your mother.”

Telemachus hesitated, his sword lowering slightly. “The scar…”

“And do you remember the olive tree?” Odysseus pressed on. “The one in the courtyard that grew with you as you grew. I carved my name into it the day you were born, swearing an oath to protect this house, this family. You’ve seen it yourself.”

Telemachus’s mind raced. He remembered the stories, the details too specific to be coincidence. The scar. The tree. The name carved into its bark. His grip faltered, the sword slipping slightly in his hands. “How do I know you’re not just saying what you’ve heard?” Telemachus whispered, his voice trembling.

Odysseus took another step closer, now within arm’s reach of his son. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled aside his tunic, revealing the long, jagged scar on his thigh. “See for yourself, Telemachus. And look at me. Truly look at me.” Telemachus’s sword clattered to the floor as his knees buckled. He stared at the scar, then back at Odysseus’s face. The realization hit him like a wave. The lines of his father’s face—older, wearier, but undeniably his.

“Father?” Telemachus’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Odysseus knelt and placed his hands on Telemachus’s shoulders, his expression both tender and resolute. “Yes, my son. I’m home.” Tears welled in Telemachus’s eyes as he threw his arms around Odysseus, gripping him tightly. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, the long years of separation dissolving into the embrace.

The reunion was broken by a commotion at the far side of the hall. A guard dragged Antinous forward, his hands bound. The young man struggled against the grip but was forced to his knees before Odysseus. “Found him hiding in one of the chambers, my lord,” the guard said, his voice stern.

Antinous’s face was pale but defiant, his eyes darting from Odysseus to Telemachus. “You think this changes anything, old man? You kill the suitors, and what? You’re still nothing but a relic of the past.”

Odysseus regarded Antinous with a cold, measured gaze. “And you’re the ringleader who sought to defile my home and harm my family.”

Before he could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Y/N entered, her face pale as she took in the scene. Her eyes locked on Antinous, her only brother, kneeling before Odysseus.

“Y/N?” Telemachus called softly, stepping toward her, but she shook her head, her gaze fixed on Antinous. Behind her, Penelope appeared, regal and composed despite the chaos that had unfolded. Her presence seemed to command the room as she swept her gaze over the gathered figures—Odysseus, Telemachus, Y/N, and the bound Antinous.

Her breath caught as her eyes landed on Odysseus, and she whispered, “Odysseus…?”

Odysseus turned to face her, his expression softening. “Penelope. I’m here...”

Tears filled Penelope’s eyes as she stepped closer, disbelief and joy warring on her face. But before she could speak, her gaze shifted to the bound Antinous. “And what of this one?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with steel.

Odysseus glanced at Antinous, then at Y/N, whose face was stricken with emotion. “That decision will come,” he said. “But not now. Not before we’ve reclaimed Ithaca fully.” The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air as all eyes turned to Y/N, caught between her brother and the family she had chosen to align herself with.

She dropped to her knees before Odysseus, her hands trembling as they clasped together in desperation. “Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her plea. “Please don’t kill him. He’s my brother. He’s all I have left.”

Odysseus looked down at her, his face hard and unyielding. “Your brother is a traitor, a coward who conspired to ruin my home and kill my son.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. “And you—who the hell do you think you are to beg for mercy on his behalf? You, the sister of that whore who sought to take everything from my family?”

She flinched at the insult, tears spilling from her eyes as she tried to respond, but the words caught in her throat. “Father.” Telemachus’s voice cut through the room, cold and sharp. Odysseus turned to face him, startled by the steel in his son’s tone. “That’s your future daughter-in-law you’re speaking to.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting. She froze, her teary gaze snapping to Telemachus, who stood firm, his jaw clenched in defiance. Odysseus blinked, his expression shifting from anger to shock. “What?” he asked, his voice quieter but no less intense.

Penelope stepped forward, her hand resting lightly on Odysseus’s arm. Her expression was calm but pointed. “He’s right, Odysseus,” she said softly. “Telemachus and Y/N are together. You’ve missed…quite a lot.” Odysseus glanced at Penelope, then back at Y/N, who was still kneeling, her tear streaked face now flushed with embarrassment. He exhaled, the weight of years lost and bonds yet to be repaired settling on his shoulders.

“Clearly, I have,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He turned his gaze to Telemachus, who met his eyes with unwavering determination. “So this is the girl you’ve chosen.”

“She is,” Telemachus said firmly. “And I’ll stand by her, just as she’s stood by me.”

Odysseus regarded his son for a long moment before his gaze softened, the anger ebbing into something more subdued. “You’re your mother’s son, no doubt,” he said quietly, glancing at Penelope with a faint, weary smile.

Y/N looked between them, her heart still racing, but she dared to hope that the storm had passed—at least for now. Odysseus narrowed his eyes, his gaze shifting back to Telemachus. “Why her?” he asked, his voice steady but tinged with disbelief. “Why would you, my son, choose the sister of the man who sought to kill you and claim my throne? What sense is there in that?”

Telemachus stepped forward, his chin raised as he met his father’s gaze. “Because she isn’t like her brother. She’s been caught in the middle of all this just as much as we have. She didn’t choose this life, and she’s suffered for it. She’s kind, brave, and loyal—everything her brother isn’t.” He paused, glancing down at y/n, who had slowly risen to her feet, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “She’s the only one who’s ever made me feel like I’m more than just your shadow.”

Odysseus’s expression hardened, but there was a flicker of something else—curiosity, perhaps, or even doubt. He turned his head to Penelope, his wife who had been standing silently, watching the exchange with careful eyes. “Is this true?” Odysseus asked, his voice quieter but still firm. “You’ve known this, and you approve of it?”

Penelope met his gaze evenly, her composure unshaken. “I’ve known,” she said calmly. “And I see what he sees in her. She’s no enemy to this family, Odysseus. If anything, she’s risked as much as any of us to protect it.”

Odysseus’s brow furrowed, his eyes darting back to Pandora, who stood stiffly beside Telemachus, her hands clenched at her sides. “And you trust her?” he asked Penelope, his voice heavy with doubt.

Penelope nodded without hesitation. “I do.”

Odysseus let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he processed the weight of it all. Finally, he turned back to Telemachus. “If you truly believe she’s worth it, then I’ll let this stand. But know this—” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near growl. “If she betrays you or this family, you’ll answer for it as much as she will.”

Telemachus didn’t waver, his hand brushing against y/n’s for reassurance. “She won’t. I trust her with my life.”

Odysseus studied them for a moment longer before nodding stiffly, though the tension in his stance remained. “Then I’ll hold you to that.” He stepped back, his eyes briefly meeting Penelope’s again, as if silently seeking her reassurance one last time. She dropped to her knees in front of Odysseus once again, her voice trembling but firm. “Please, my lord, don’t kill him. Antinous is all I have left. He’s made mistakes, I know—terrible ones—but he’s still my brother. I beg you, don’t take him from me.” Tears streaked her face as she shook her head. “Please, give him a chance. I’ll take responsibility for him. Anything, just don’t take his life.”

Telemachus stepped forward, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Father, listen to her. If we’re to rebuild Ithaca after everything that’s happened, mercy will speak louder than vengeance.”

Odysseus’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering between his son and the woman kneeling before him. Finally, he let out a slow, grudging breath. “Fine,” he said at last, his voice heavy with reluctance. “I’ll spare him. But he will not walk free.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with hope. “Thank you—”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Odysseus interrupted, his tone cutting. “He will be thrown into the dungeon and kept under heavy guard. If he so much as breathes wrong, I’ll see to it myself that he pays for his crimes. That’s my condition.”

She nodded rapidly, her hands clasped tightly together. “I understand. Thank you. I swear you won’t regret this.”

Odysseus stepped back, his piercing gaze never leaving her. “I hope for your sake, girl, that I don’t.”

As he turned to give the order for the guards to take Antinous away, she slumped back, exhaling shakily. Telemachus knelt beside her, pulling her into his arms. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured.

She clung to him, her heart heavy but grateful. “I just hope he can forgive me for letting this happen,” she whispered, glancing toward the guards dragging her brother away. “And I hope he can change.”

Telemachus held her closer, his eyes lingering on his father. “If he’s anything like you, he can.” Though Telemachus was lying. Antinous is a dirty good for nothing skank who tried to kill him and take his mother, but he had to pretend for her sake.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

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[putschki1969]

Kalafina Anniversary Live 2025 Report

It's finally here, sorry for the long wait!! Let me share some overall thoughts first( ^_^)/~~~

Venue: Probably the newest and fanciest venue I‘ve ever been to. Loved all the screens with Kalafina visuals. They had them across the entire area, some bigger, some smaller and a really big one in front of the venue itself. The theater appeared to be a bit intimidating at first glance but I actually appreciated the layout, I feel like you got to have a pretty decent view from most places, even in the upper balconies.

Collaboration events: This one was somewhat of a fail for me. Originally, I wasn’t too impressed with most of the collaboration food but I was still eager to get it, especially the stuff that was wrapped nicely. The chocolates looked lovely but they were already sold out when I arrived at 11:00 on the 15th.🥲Was also planning to get the katsu sandwich in the Kalafina packaging but that was sold out as well. Not afraid to admit that I cried a little when I realised I woudn't be able to get them...I did get one of those gorgeous tray sheets at Taco Bell at least🙌 Managed to secure one of those tiny photo cards too but meh, honestly nothing to write home about. Gave me the opportunity to write something on the message board though so that’s a good thing 👍 The whole gacha situation was a challenge to say the least. So exhausting! I got a numbered ticket (#127) for the queue so I could start lining up at 13:30 (was actually one of the first people to enter). This worked out pretty smoothly and everyone was able to enter earlier than expected. At first I was lining up in the wrong queue because they were telling people they had to go through the on-site merch sale area first. Thankfully, a staff member came over and guided me and some others to the direct queue (after all, I wasn’t planning to buy any merch since I had already made my reservation). My first gacha round didn’t take too long since most people were still busy buying merch and there were a total of ten machines (also had prepared my 500 yen coins the day before so I didn't have to line up to change my money). I was moderately lucky but didn’t get some of the items I wanted🙃 So after I picked up my live goods during my assigned time slot, I got back in the queue to do a second gacha round😅. This time the wait was long, probably an hour or so. Also, 10,000 yen just gone☠️Thanks to @concretebadger and my super kind friend, I managed to get the complete set! BANZAI🤗 I also got two lovely tokutens for participating in the big flower stand project (a postcard and badge of the drawing). Almost didn't get to meet up with the organisers of the project but thankfully I ran into them right before the start of the show (generally, I find it fascinating how many people I managed to run into despite the sheer amount of people at the venue - thanks to everyone who said 'hi').

Seat: I really liked my seat and am glad I went for the balcony area. Had a completely unobstructed view of the stage🥰It was a little further away of course but I did bring my binoculars so it was fine.👍 In my vicinity people were thankfully not very keen to stand up all the time so I had one less thing to worry about. The screens on the side were also a perfect size to see their facial expressions. The people in charge of the projections made sure to include a lot of close-ups 😍 Bless them!

Sound: Maybe it was just my specific location towards the left side on the balcony but the sound system was a bit off I think, or possibly the manipulator did a horrible job with the mixing? How did everyone else feel about this? The background music was often overly loud (if not to say obnoxiously noisy) and drowned out the vocals. During some parts, it was honestly hard to hear the girls among all the other noises. It was much better during songs that had a more simple or acoustic arrangement. The microphones seemed to have some issues too at times because there were a few distortions (?) which made their voices sound different (?) and occasionally, you just couldn’t hear them singing the beginning of certain lines - this could theoretically be chalked up to them being hesitant and starting too quiet (Wakana does that at times) but it happened a little too often to all three of them which is why I‘m assuming there might have been some technical issues.

Vocals: What are seven years? Nothing! It was like no time had passed at all! Some people may disagree but for the most part, the girls sounded amazing to me! I thoroughly enjoyed myself and very rarely heard notes that made me cringe. I was amazed how they managed to just pick up where they left off. Of course there were parts that were less flattering and they had some of their usual hiccups but I feel like they handled everything pretty well. Have they done better and more polished live renditions of some of these songs in the past? Probably (tho there were some stand-out performances that impressed me more than their old versions). Overall, there was clearly a lot of effort and love put into each and every performance and at the end of the day, that's all that counts for me. They didn’t “phone-in” their singing, they put all their heart into it and you could tell. I even liked songs that I am usually not such a huge fan of (e.g. “ring your bell” and “ Alleluia”). Also, say what you will but there’s a huge contrast between the YKL Kalafina covers and the real thing, it’s almost jarring how different they sound so I particularly appreciated performances of the songs that had previously been covered at YKL. Needless to say, I much prefer the real thing! It's just not the same without Wakana and I must say, Wakana delivered solid vocals during most songs that required those super high and long notes. Hikaru also did a great job and sounded powerful throughout most of the setlist. She was getting visibly tired though towards the end of the up-beat section (Wakana on the other hand surprised me with her stamina). As for Keiko, do I even have to say it? She delivered a fabulous performance as one would expect from her. She nailed all her epic long notes (e.g. “Hyakka Ryouran”, “Kyrie”, “Hikaru Furu” - she sounded better than she did during the 10th Anniversary Live if you ask me)

Production & arrangement: Honestly nothing special or outstanding. They kept it simple and remained faithful to Kalafina’s usual M.O. The focus was on their voices and there wasn’t anything extravagant to distract from that. On the contrary, I feel like there was a conscious effort being made to include more acappella parts to highlight their harmony. With the exception of a few instrumentals and solos, I don’t think Satoshi Takebe added a lot of creative twists to change the original sound. He even mentioned in a tweet that he wanted to pay tribute to Yuki Kajiura’s work, stay true to her music/style and not make it his own or anything. On this note, I would like to add that YK's absence was not really an issue. As I have mentioned a few times already, YK has rarely been an integral part of their live productions so her not being in charge of this concert, has done nothing to affect its quality.

Atmosphere: 1000/10. The girls were in such a good mood and determined to make this concert the best experience ever. It really felt like they had never been apart. Their interactions with each other were heart-felt and didn’t come across as staged or forced. You could tell how much they missed performing together. The audience was also super responsive and everyone seemed to have the time of their lives (myself included of course).

Setlist: Admittedly, it wasn’t what I had hoped for but it was pretty much what I had expected from this sort of live so I can’t be mad. And there were a few really pleasant surprises that I didn’t think they would include (“Hanataba”, “Lacrimosa”, “Kyrie” and “Hyakka Ryouran”) so YAY for that. Also beyond happy that they did an acoustic version of “sprinter” because that’s so much better than the studio version (which I typically don’t like). Same goes for "KnGnN". Check out a detailed report below the cut 〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

1 oblivious: I knew it was coming and it’s usually not a song I’m particularly fond of but this performance may have been the best one I’ve ever heard (biased opinion but hey, you can’t blame me for that😅). The song kicked me right in the feels! Or maybe it was just like a dream come true to hear/see them together again! When they appeared on stage, they looked like angels. What a revelation to see them in all their glory once the sheer curtain was dropped. They sounded amazing, absolutely breathtaking! Was impressed by everyone’s vocals. Shout-out to Hikaru for her high notes! For a few lines in the beginning, Wakana didn’t quite sound like herself (the distortion I was talking about earlier?) but I am not sure if it was a lowered pitch or something the manipulator did on purpose to smooth out her voice. It sounded okay and wasn’t too distracting so I didn’t mind it. Later on, her voice sounded like it usually did during “oblivious” so maybe it was just a glitch or whatever. When Wakana and Keiko did their little back-and-forth duet thingy, I almost started crying because I had missed them so much. WaKei FOREVER 🤗

2 Kizuato: A bit bummed that they didn’t perform “Kimi ga Hikari ni Kaete Iku” (then again, I might have died instantly so it was probably a good thing) but this was a beautiful performance so I can’t complain. The three of them once again sounded amazing and their harmonies were to die for.

3 Mirai: Typically one of their weaker live performances and this was no exception. But really, it’s about getting that connection with the audience, running around on stage, greeting the audience and having fun. I don’t mind if it’s not polished and I usually don’t even pay attention to that during this song.

4 Hikari no Senritsu: Felt a bit all over the place so I wasn’t quite able to get into it. The music was overbearing at times and it took away from the charm of a few individual lines. I expected to be touched by the performance since Keiko had been going on and on about how this was her favourite song to sing together but I didn’t have a particularly strong reaction to it. To be fair though, it has never been one of my favourite songs so that might have been the reason for my rather lukewarm reaction. An interesting cello solo from Masateru spiced things up a little but otherwise, there weren’t any significant changes.

5 storia: For this one, I always keep my expectations low regarding vocals because I know it’s a hit and miss when it comes to Wakana and Hikaru. It’s been like this forever so I’m not surprised to hear them struggling at times. Nevertheless, this is a song I have always enjoyed so I can easily look past minor issues. As expected, the girls did struggle a bit (Hikaru in particular didn't deliver the most flattering performance) but it was totally fine. That final chorus once again caught me right in the feels, especially the WaKei part🥹Both the YKL cover and Wakana's solo cover are still fresh in my mind so to finally hear the song as it is meant to be, feels like such a blessing.

6 ring your bell: The piano intro was a bit misleading and for a couple seconds there, I seriously thought they would be introducing a brand new song 😅 It was a nice touch though, I do enjoy intros like that (probably Takebe's idea). Surprisingly, I liked this performance more than I thought I would. I usually give this one a pass because I don't care for the unflattering vocals. I've never understood why it keeps getting performed when it is such a challenging song. But this time, I honestly enjoyed almost all of it (especially Wakana's parts at the end- she did a great job here). Those YK cover versions pale in comparison if you ask me.

7 Hanataba: What a surprise! 😮 Possibly one of their best (if not the best) performances of the night. Usually not a fan of the accordion but here I didn’t mind it. They made some minor changes to the arrangement to highlight the accordion and the vocals. The girls were on fire, especially Hikaru. You could tell she was happy that her chosen song made it onto the setlist.

8 Lacrimosa: From one surprise to another. I was actually expecting them to sing “Consolation” at this point because according to the previous MC, this was meant to be their “Consolation” album block. Would have been happier with “Consolation” to be honest but “Lacrimosa” was a nice treat too. The background music was quite loud again so some vocal parts weren’t discernible or got overshadowed by other stuff.

9 Manten: I don't remember much from it so it must not have stood out to me.

10 to the beginning: Never liked it but this time, I had a blast. A fantastic performance with so much energy and love put into it. The audience went crazy of course so that was also fun to watch. While I personally do not stand up for songs and categorically refuse to partake in any weird arm movements (clapping is the most I will do), I still think it's nice to see everyone so invested.

11 Kimi no Gin no Niwa with strings: This was beautiful. Just strings and piano, might have been my favourite rendition of all time (and I am usually not even such a huge fan of the song). Quite a few more acappella lines than usual I think. Gorgeous arrangement.

12 sprinter with strings: What can I say? Perfect. No notes. Tears everywhere. So glad they decided to go for an acoustic version (by now we all know how much I dislike the studio version). It wasn't as emotional as that Arena Live encore performance but for me, it came pretty close.

13 Hyakka Ryouran: Became a big fan after the 10th Anniversary performance. Didn't expect them to include it once again in the setlist but I certainly didn't mind. This one was just as solid I would say although I feel like Keiko was actually a bit stronger here than she was back then, especially during her "yaiba".

14 misterioso: Meh, one of my least favourite Kala-songs but coincidentally, one of their most frequently performed tracks. I have always wondered why but I guess there are a lot of people who love it (especially in the anisong community). Wasn't really into it so I don't remember anything significant.

15 One Light: Super happy about it. A perfect candidate for their up-beat corner and really a true banger. Don't think there has ever been a bad performance of this, they always slay. I believe they missed the mark a little on that moment where they all come together to raise their arms right before the climax. It felt a little rushed so the cameras for the screen didn't capture it properly XD (it was probably fine for those in the front rows who could see every detail up-close). Either way, the audience erupted into cheers when Hikaru did her infamous "yukeru" kneel.

16 Kyrie: Wooohoo, one of my favourite Kala-songs so I am always excited to hear it performed live. Certainly a surprise though because I didn't think it would be chosen for their Anniversary Live setlist. The audio was pretty messy during this one and I was sad to hear that Keiko's drawn out "Kyrie" at the end didn't get as much attention as it deserved.

17 Ongaku: It started out a little weird in a slightly different tempo than I am used to (at least I think so?). It was a minor thing but big enough to distract me a little for a minute or so. Keiko slayed though and Super!Wakana knocked it out of the park (loved how Keiko held her hand when she helped her walk up the stairs for the solo)

18 heavenly blue: A long-ass up-beat section comes to an end with another banger. After this one, Keiko even said that this was one of their most challenging corners they ever did. It's always fun when Keiko asks the audience after "Ongaku" if we can handle yet another up-beat song (of course we can!) and they transition right into either "Signal" or "heavenly blue" (pretty much their go-to songs for an epic ending). I do love "heavenly blue" so I am happy they included it. The background vocals during the bridge were a little too loud for my taste so you couldn't hear the girls properly (the bridge is one of my favourite parts of the song).

19 Alleluia: There was no doubt in my mind that they would either finish the main section or the entire concert with this song. Didn't expect to love the performance as much as I did. Usually not the biggest fan of the song since Wakana's parts are not particularly flattering for her and even Keiko tends to get a little shouty at times. But this time, I rally enjoyed the song and the minor issues didn't really register with me all that much. Guess I was just too deep into the emotions they were trying to convey.

En1 Magia: So glad they included this! I always thought it was a shame that it didn’t make it onto the 10th Anniversary setlist. We heard a lot of YK cover versions in the past couple of years (to a point where I was getting a little tired of the song) but this revived my love 😍 So good!! The guitar solo sounded weird to me and didn’t have a proper transition to Keiko’s bridge part but that might just be my personal perception. Maybe the guitar fans among you thought it was great😅Keiko’s solo also lacked a bit of oomph but I think it was her microphone’s fault 🙃Hikaru sounded a bit quiet too at times. Hopefully they can fix those minor issues with some studio magic before they do the TV broadcast.

En2 Hikari Furu: Another elaborate piano intro (different from the ones that Sakurada used to do) but this time it was pretty obvious they would sing "Hikari Furu" so I didn't have to guess. Unfortunately, the song sounded a little meh vocal-wise, certainly one of their messier live versions and overall, one of the least enjoyable performances of the night for me which is a huge shame because this is one of my all-time faves. Lots of things came together here so I can’t put the blame on a single factor. For some reason, their voices wouldn’t blend well together and both Wa and Hi had a few too many screechy moments. Wakana sounded almost hoarse when she started singing (maybe she got a little emotional?) and at the end she had some very noticeable shaking during her long notes (I know she has that a lot for her solo stuff too but I didn’t really notice it all that much in other songs from that night but here it was hard to ignore). The background music was also quite loud during the climax of the song so it didn’t exactly help to make it sound better. Keiko delivered an awesome "mabushii asa" though.

En3 into the world: Perfect ending to be honest and again, nothing beats this, not even a YKL cover (although I will say that I enjoy those too). It was kinda bittersweet though. Obviously this song is about taking new paths, not knowing what lies ahead. And really, this is what we have to deal with right now.

At this point, the future is blurry, no one knows what will happen to Kalafina. The girls didn’t even hint at any possible future activities. There was just an endless amount of appreciation for the past and present. Every time one of them thanked the fans for patiently waiting for Kalafina’s return, I couldn’t help but tear up a little. Yes, the wait was rough and I am sure many people lost hope along the way but I personally always knew we'd see them back together again. And when Wakana straight up broke into tears during an MC (with Keiko comforting her and shielding her from the cameras), I cried like a baby (especially when Wakana cried even harder and made Keiko tear up too) 🥲 All the pent-up emotion just came to the surface. Hikaru on the other was determined not to cry throughout the whole concert. They are too precious for this world!! I really hope they don't cut this moment from the broadcast (but knowing them, they probably will). For the time-being, I’ll just follow Keiko’s advice and continue listening to Kalafina and love them🥰Who knows, maybe one day…? I'll never give up hope and I don't think the girls will either. While she didn't outright say it, Keiko couldn't help but utter a few hopeful words, more like a prayer actually, "叶うならまた~/And if my wish would come true, maybe [we can do this/sing together] again~" It was an amazing concert, I had the time of my life and will treasure those memories forever. Thank you Kalafina!!

Cannot wait for the TV broadcast to experience all of this again and to relive every little detail. I should have written the report right away (or taken some extensive notes) when my memories were still fresh but my schedule for the following days was simply too busy. Now I'm back home and fighting against a jet-lag so the finer details are escaping me T_T (I feel like I am getting a few things mixed up and don't even know which things happened in which MC)

[sustiawan-author]

The Path Untedious - Neil Perry . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

This was lightly inspired by the two Neil asks I've received in my mailbox (including one with black!reader). Here u go sweetcheeks ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ this isn't tooooo according but hey 😌

Your husband was a hard-worker — taking longer shifts in the hospital just for the sake of it, noting down whatever was necessary to get his job done and get patients discharged. It was what his father wanted, but you understood best how it exhausted him so. It brought good money, of course, and the soul-fulfilling duty of being a modern healer was priceless in its own — but it would be ignorant to deny the stress and challenge of the career itself.

Tonight he came home at the usual hour, but he had taken an earlier check-in because of a mixup at the emergency room. It wasn't like Neil to decline, but it also wasn't like him to do the job and not be a total baby to you afterwards.

"My swordsfighting maiden," Neil propped his briefcase on the couch before pecking your cheek, "how are you?"

There's a tiredness in his tone, a loving gaze set in his hooded eyes. They were in tandem with the sleepy howls of the dogs outside and the hooting of owls just outside the window. You dimmed the desklight and stood up to greet your lover. Nimbling your fingers upon the knot on his chest, you undid his tie and folded it along with the jacket.

"Fine," you reassured in a gentle voice, "settled everything today. How's work?"

He blew a raspberry and gave you a look — that look. An expression that read 'people piss me off there, but I'm just glad we're together.' You whistled lowly, putting his dirty laundry away.

"Challenging much?"

"Everything needed to be done, this and that, money and — ugh!" Neil fell to the bed dramatically, an arm covering his face. You giggled,

"Must've been so frustrating."

He pouted at you like a sorry puppy, but you were far too busy tidying up his things for him. Neil stared at the ceiling, pretending there were vines for him to hold onto — to save him and yourself away from this life, a life others chose for him. A life where his real interests were kept hidden and astray, shared only with you in the haven of your home. It just wasn't fair.

But you were so patient and so kind, so loving to his impatient mind and young heart that he would do anything to have you live a life of peace. You were his own anyway.

"Did you do what you love today?" he croaked, voice strained from a day of exertion. If it were possible, your ear would've quirked.

"Let's see," you turned to him in thought, finally, greeting him with your freshly blushed cheeks and rose-glossed lips, "I baked some gooseberry pie, cleaned the oven, prepared your dinner then sewed up some dresses."

Neil reached for your nimble hand and you let him, admiration and awe exuding off of him.

"And," he pondered, searching your face, "did you like that?"

You smiled sweetly, nodding in honesty.

"Why?" he asked in painful disbelief, suddenly feeling a lump in his throat. He coughed it off, glad you didn't seem to notice.

'Wasn't it tedious? ' he thought, 'Didn't I bore you?'

You shrugged as if you could hear what tmhe thought, the satin robe he bought you slipping from your shoulder, "I like it. I like serving you. I like... doing what I love. I love love, so I love this. I like you, Neil — like, like you. It's not something I'm forced to do. I hope to God you don't feel that way either."

"No, goodness no," Neil grasped your fingers, kissing them with insistence as he mumbled, "no, never."

You brushed those brunette strands back, hearing Neil sigh in relief as you did.

"Then what is it?" you whispered.

"It's you," he shook his head, "just you."

You stifled a grin, averting your gaze as bashfulness overtoom you. It always did, always will when it came to Neil. He noticed, of course, and pivoted your chin so you'll meet his eyes.

You'dstay like that forever if you could.

𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘:

@someone-sss @sorazki @tofallatlastbutfair @shemisseshome @yournormalidiot @anderperry-soliloquies @unfortunately-lilith @heyyyloverr @theduckwithafroghat @marzcrx @dpspolaroid

[zeroseuniverse]

Facts Or Fiction?

Word Count: 1.6K Summary: She looked up, her expression unreadable. “The right question is whether I’d stop if I could.” “And would you?” Her lips curved into a faint, almost wistful smile. “I don’t know how.” Pairing: Jay X fem reader

Disclaimer: Please be aware that this is apart of the from the ashes series. This series will have aspects of violence, weapons, angst, blood, injuries, killing, and will heavily focus on oppression and segregation of mutants, Look after your mental state if any of these make you uncomfortable please.

Series Masterlist

The rain hammered against the glass walls of the skybridge, drowning out the noise of the city below. Jay leaned against the railing, pretending to check his phone while scanning the crowd. His contact had assured him she’d show up, but that had been hours ago. The longer he waited, the more he felt the creeping sense of regret for agreeing to meet her in such an exposed location.

She was the city’s most wanted criminal—if anyone even knew her face. The government had labeled her a terrorist; her supporters called her a savior. To him, she was a mystery wrapped in contradictions, and for reasons he couldn’t yet explain, he couldn’t stop chasing her story.

A faint reflection caught his eye. A figure emerged from the crowd, her hood pulled low to hide her face, raindrops sliding off the sleek fabric of her coat. She walked with a calculated confidence, her boots clicking against the floor. She stopped a few feet away, close enough to speak but far enough to evade a trap.

“So,” she said, her voice low and laced with suspicion. “You’re the journalist who’s been so desperate to find me. I’ll admit, you’ve got guts.”

Jay straightened, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I figured it was time someone heard your side of the story.”

Her lips twitched into a humorless smile. “My side? You think you’ll print the truth and the world will suddenly change? That’s naive, even for someone like you.”

“I’m not naïve,” Jay shot back. “I know the risks. I also know the difference between justice and revenge. I’m here to understand which side of the line you’re on.”

She stepped closer, the light catching the sharp angles of her face beneath the hood. Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he saw something flicker there—curiosity, maybe even amusement.

“Fine,” she said. “But know this, Jay. If you twist my words, I won’t hesitate to make you regret it.”

She turned, motioning for him to follow. “Come on. Let’s see if you’re as brave as you seem.”

Jay hesitated only briefly before falling into step behind her, the weight of his recorder suddenly feeling heavier in his pocket.

Jay trailed behind her as they exited the skybridge and descended into the depths of the city. The streets here were a world apart from the sterile, drone-policed districts above. Neon signs flickered over makeshift stalls, the air thick with the smell of fried food and damp concrete.

She moved through the chaos like a shadow, her hood shielding most of her face, but it didn’t matter. People recognized her anyway.

A man selling spare parts for outdated tech straightened as she passed, nodding respectfully. A group of children darting between the stalls paused long enough to wave at her, grinning as she tossed them a small pouch—likely food credits or something more valuable.

“She’s here,” someone whispered from a nearby stall, and the woman behind it quickly tucked something under her counter, casting a wary glance around as if her presence alone could ward off danger.

Jay noted it all, his journalist’s eye catching every glance, every quiet acknowledgment. These people weren’t afraid of her. If anything, they admired her. To them, she wasn’t a criminal—she was a symbol.

“You have quite the fan club,” Jay murmured, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.

She glanced over her shoulder, a wry smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “They’re not fans. They’re survivors. And unlike the ones sitting comfortably in glass towers, they know the cost of survival.”

Jay fell silent, taking in the resilience etched into the faces of the people around him. It was a stark contrast to the polished, disconnected world he usually reported on.

As they continued deeper into the district, he noticed other quirks about her. The way her fingers tapped rhythmically against her thigh, like she was always counting something—steps, seconds, maybe risks. Or how she scanned every alley and rooftop without breaking stride, her eyes sharp and calculating.

She stopped suddenly, turning to face him with an unreadable expression. “Do you always stare this much, or am I just that fascinating?”

Jay blinked, caught off guard. “I’m just…observing.”

“Careful with that. Observing too much around here can get you killed.” Her tone was teasing, but the edge in her eyes told him she wasn’t entirely joking.

They reached an unmarked door tucked between two stalls. She knocked twice in a deliberate pattern, and the door creaked open. A young woman peered out, her face lighting up when she saw her.

“You’re back,” the woman said, stepping aside to let them in. Her gaze flicked to Jay, narrowing with suspicion.

“He’s with me,” She said simply. It was enough to quiet the woman’s protests, though she continued to watch Jay like he might explode at any moment.

Inside, the space was cluttered but warm—a makeshift hub of activity. Maps and screens covered the walls, and a group of people huddled around a table, their conversation falling silent as she entered.

One of them, a grizzled man with a scar across his cheek, stood up and crossed his arms. “Bringing a reporter here, boss? That’s a new one.”

“He’s here to listen, not talk,” she replied. She turned to Jay, her expression softening ever so slightly. “At least, for now.”

Jay couldn’t decide what struck him more: the weight of her presence in the room or the trust these people clearly placed in her. She wasn’t just their leader—she was their hope.

The tension in the room was palpable. Jay could feel the weight of their stares, suspicion radiating from every corner as she led him to a quieter space—an alcove separated by tattered curtains. The hum of activity outside became muffled, leaving only the faint echo of raindrops against the roof.

She gestured to a mismatched chair near a battered table, sinking into the one opposite him. She pulled her hood back, revealing sharp eyes that seemed to pierce through him, and rested her elbows on the table.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” she began, her voice low and measured. “This isn’t a courtesy. I’m not here to satisfy your curiosity or paint myself as some misunderstood hero. I’m here because you might have a use. If I don’t like where this goes, you’ll walk out of here with nothing. Clear?”

Jay nodded, pulling out his recorder. “Crystal.”

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “Good. Now, ask your questions.”

Jay hesitated for a moment, organizing his thoughts. Then, he leaned forward, his voice steady. “You’ve been labeled a terrorist. Some say you’re no better than the syndicates you fight. What would you say to those people?”

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “I’d say they’ve been drinking too much government Kool-Aid. It’s easy to throw labels around when you’re sitting comfortably, watching the chaos on a screen. But those people? They don’t know what it’s like to starve, to lose everything, to have the system chew you up and spit you out.”

Her eyes darkened, and Jay caught the way her fingers began tapping against the table—quick, precise, restless. “I do what needs to be done. If that makes me a villain, so be it.”

Jay pressed on. “And the collateral damage? The civilians caught in the crossfire—what about them?”

She scoffed. “You think the corporations and the government aren’t leaving bodies in their wake every day? The only difference is, they’ve got spin doctors to clean up the narrative. My actions may be messy, but they’re honest. Can you say the same for the people you write about?”

Jay opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, leaning forward now, her eyes blazing. “You call me reckless, but you’re the one printing stories about corruption and syndicate ties. How many death threats have you gotten this week? How many times have you had to look over your shoulder, wondering if you’ll make it home?”

Her words hit harder than he expected, and for a moment, he was at a loss. She leaned back again, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “That’s what I thought.”

Jay found his voice, his tone softer this time. “You make a point, but there’s a difference between exposing the truth and taking lives. You don’t seem to believe in that line anymore.”

Her gaze softened, though the fire in her eyes didn’t entirely fade. “Maybe I don’t. Or maybe I’ve just seen too much to believe that playing nice will ever change anything.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Jay studied her, noticing the subtle contradictions in her demeanor—the sharpness in her tone offset by the way her hands trembled ever so slightly when she stopped tapping. The way her eyes, no matter how fierce, betrayed a deep exhaustion.

Finally, he asked, “If you could do it all over again, would you? Would you still choose this path?”

She let out a long breath, her gaze dropping to the table. “That’s not the right question.”

“Then what is?”

She looked up, her expression unreadable. “The right question is whether I’d stop if I could.”

“And would you?”

Her lips curved into a faint, almost wistful smile. “I don’t know how.”

Jay stared at her, his recorder forgotten for a moment. In that instant, she wasn’t just the shadowy figure plastered across wanted posters or the symbol of defiance revered by the people outside. She was human—complex, conflicted, and achingly real.

“You’re not what I expected,” he admitted.

“And you’re not as naïve as I thought,” she replied, a flicker of amusement in her voice. “Maybe this interview won’t be a total waste after all.”

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

MY MASTERPIECE

drew starkey x plus sized!fem!reader

(mood board does NOT depict readers’ appearance !!)

SUMMARY: after drew catches his girlfriend crying about the hate she’s receiving, he decides to show her exactly how much he loves her.

based on this ask !! i really hope you like it anon, and i had such a lovely time writing this :’) i just KNOW drew would worship a plus!sized baddie, so imo this is canon🤫

WARNINGS: slight angst to fluff then to smut (18+ mdni pls!!), body worshipping, oral (fem rec), fingering, orgasm denial, blasphemy (“oh god”), insecurities, social media hate, crying, cursing, fat-shaming (fuck you if you do this, and you’re not welcome on my page !!) i think this is all? (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

THIRD PERSON +

The dim light of the bedside lamp bathed the room in a soft glow. Y/N sat cross-legged on the bed, her laptop resting in front of her, illuminating her face in harsh contrast. Her throat felt tight as her eyes scanned the comments section on yet another gossip website.

"Why is he with her?"

"She's way out of his league."

"Drew could do so much better. She's not even that pretty."

"She doesn’t look right next to Drew AT ALL."

The words blurred as tears pooled in her eyes, one spilling over and sliding down her cheek. She sniffled, trying to hold it together, but it was a losing battle. Her hands trembled as she closed the laptop and set it aside, curling up into herself. The voices in her head, fueled by the hateful comments, were deafening.

She knew Drew loved her. He told her all the time, in the little ways and the big ones. But sometimes, the weight of the world's opinions was too much to bear. Tonight was one of those nights.

She was so caught up in her spiraling thoughts that she didn't hear the front door open or the sound of Drew's voice calling out.

"Babe? I'm home!" he said, his voice warm and familiar as it carried through the apartment.

Her stomach dropped. She quickly wiped at her cheeks, trying to compose herself. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her like this.

Drew stepped into the bedroom, his tall frame filling the doorway. He smiled softly, holding up a bag. "I brought takeout from your favorite place. I figured—" He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed her blotchy, tear-stained face and glossy eyes. His brow furrowed with concern as he dropped the bag on the dresser and closed the distance between them in two long strides.

"Angel, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and cupping her face in his hands. His thumbs gently wiped away the tears that continued to fall despite her efforts to stop them. "Talk to me, baby."

She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's nothing, Drew. I'm fine."

He frowned, not buying it for a second. "That's not nothing. Come on, tell me what's going on."

Her chest tightened as she met his worried gaze. She debated brushing it off, but the dam broke, and the words tumbled out before she could stop them. "It's just... all the comments, Drew. All the things people say about me. About us. They hate me because I'm not what they think you deserve."

Drew's eyes softened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt.

"They're so cruel," she continued, her voice muffled against him. "And the worst part is... I start to believe them. Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm not good enough for you."

Drew pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt her chin up so she was looking at him. His cobalt eyes were intense, his expression a mix of heartbreak and determination.

"Stop," he said firmly, his voice low and steady. "Don't you dare let those people make you feel like you're not good enough. They don't know you. They don't know us."

She shook her head, the tears still falling. "But Drew, look at me. I'm not some slim, perfect model. I don't fit the image of the kind of woman people expect you to be with."

Drew let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair before turning back to her. "Y/N, do you know what I see when I look at you?"

She stayed silent, unsure how to respond.

"I see the woman who makes me laugh harder than anyone else ever has," he said, his voice soft but unwavering. "I see the woman who listens to me when I'm struggling, who supports me no matter what. I see the woman whose smile lights up my entire day."

His hands moved to her shoulders, his thumbs brushing against her skin in soothing circles. "I don't care what anyone else thinks. I love you for you. For your kindness, your intelligence, your strength. For the way you hum when you're cooking, even though you always say you can't sing. For the way you light up when you talk about the things you're passionate about. You're the most beautiful person I've ever known, inside and out."

Her breath hitched as she listened to his words, the sincerity in his voice breaking through the walls she'd built around herself.

"You're more than enough for me, Y/N," Drew continued, his voice thick with emotion. "You're everything I've ever wanted. And if people can't see that, then screw them. They don't matter."

She let out a shaky laugh, her tears finally starting to slow. "You really mean that?"

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "With all my heart."

She looked up at him, her own heart swelling with love and gratitude. "I don't deserve you, you know that?"

He smirked, his hands sliding down to her waist. "I think it's the other way around."

The tension in the room shifted as his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns on her sides. His gaze darkened slightly, a spark of something more than affection flickering in his eyes.

"I need you to understand how much you mean to me," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone. "Let me show you."

Her breath caught as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a tender, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of love and devotion, of promises made and kept.

He deepened the kiss, his hands moving to cradle her face as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She melted into him, her own hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

When they finally pulled apart, both slightly breathless, Drew rested his forehead against hers.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips. "Or maybe I really need to show you."

Drew's hand lingered on Y/N's cheek, his thumb gently brushing away the last of her tears. His eyes never left hers—dark, intense, full of something unspoken but heavy, like the weight of a confession he couldn't hold back any longer.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and rough, the kind of tone that made her stomach tighten and her breath hitch. She blinked up at him, her lips parting slightly as if to argue, but he didn't let her. Instead, he leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin. "Don't say it. Don't say you don't see it. I'll show you."

His fingers trailed down her neck, feather-light, sending shivers rippling through her body. He shifted closer, his other hand finding her waist, pulling her into him until there was no space left between them. Her heart pounded as his gaze dropped to her lips, then lower, tracing the curve of her jaw, the dip of her collarbone, the swell of her chest. Everywhere he looked, she felt it—like fire licking at her skin.

"Drew..." Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper, but he silenced her with a kiss. Soft at first, almost questioning, as if he was giving her the chance to pull away. But when she didn't, when she kissed him back, something in him snapped. His hands moved with purpose, one cupping the back of her neck while the other slid down to grip her hip, holding her firmly against him.

He deepened the kiss, slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her knees weak. She could feel the heat building between them, the way his body pressed into hers, hard and impatient. When he finally pulled away, she was breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to steady herself.

But Drew wasn't done.

His lips found her jaw next, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive column of her throat. She tilted her head back instinctively, giving him more access, a soft moan escaping her when his teeth grazed her skin.

"You taste so good," he groaned against her neck, his voice thick with desire. His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, fingers curling underneath the fabric as he paused, looking up at her with those piercing eyes. "Can I? Let me see you, baby. All of you."

She nodded, her cheeks heated up but her eyes locked on his, unwavering. In one swift motion, he tugged her shirt over her head, tossing it aside before his hands came to rest on her hips again. His gaze raked over her exposed skin, taking in every curve, every inch of her with a reverence that made her feel like she was something sacred.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice trembling. "Look at you... You're perfect." His hands slid up her sides, his touch firm yet gentle, like he was memorising her. "Every part of you... I want to worship it."

Her breath caught as he sank to his knees in front of her, his hands gripping her thighs as he pressed a kiss to her stomach. It was tender, almost reverent, but the look he gave her when he glanced up was anything but innocent. Heat burned in his eyes, dark and hungry, and it sent a thrill shooting through her.

"Drew..." His name fell from her lips like a prayer, her hands clawing at the sides of his face for anything to grip onto as he began to trail kisses lower, his lips brushing against the band of her pants. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, tugging them down slowly, his lips following the path they took until she was standing there in nothing but her bra and underwear.

His hands slid around to her ass, squeezing gently as he nuzzled against her stomach, pressing another kiss there. "So fucking gorgeous," he muttered, his breath hot against her skin. "I don't know how anyone could ever talk shit about you. You're a goddamn masterpiece."

She whimpered, her chest tightening as he continued his descent, kissing and nipping at her thighs, her hips, anywhere he could reach. His hands slid up her legs, pushing them apart as he settled between them, his face level with the apex of her thighs.

"Drew, please..." Her voice broke, her body trembling with anticipation as he looked up at her, his eyes locking onto hers. There was something raw and primal in his expression, something that made her stomach flip and her core ache with need.

"Tell me what you want," he said, his voice rough, husky, sending a jolt of electricity through her. "I'll give you anything. Everything."

She swallowed hard, her chest heaving as she struggled to form words. "I... I want you. All of you."

A slow smirk spread across his face, wicked and knowing, as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh. "Then you've got me."

His mouth found her center, hot and insistent, and her knees nearly buckled as a loud moan tore from her throat. His tongue dragged along her slit, teasing, tasting, before delving deeper, burying itself in her folds with a groan that vibrated against her sensitive flesh.

"Oh my god..." Her head tipped back, her nails scraping against his scalp as he worked her over, his tongue flicking and circling her clit with expert precision. He alternated between long, languid strokes and quick, erratic flicks, driving her closer and closer to the edge with every movement.

"Drew, I—fuck, I'm—" Her words dissolved into incoherent gasps and whimpers as the pressure built, her hips rocking against his face as he devoured her. His hands gripped her thighs, keeping her steady as his tongue worked her relentlessly, each lick and suck bringing her closer to oblivion.

And then, just as she was about to tip over, he pulled away, leaving her teetering on the edge, desperate and aching. She cried out in frustration, her hands clutching at him as he stood, towering over her with a predatory grin.

"Not yet, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with arousal. He reached behind her, unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor. His hands immediately cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. "I'm not done worshiping you."

He bent his head, capturing one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently as his free hand drifted lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her underwear. She moaned loudly, her hips jerking forward as his fingers teased her entrance, circling but not quite entering.

"Drew, please..." Her voice was pleading, broken, her body writhing under his touch. He chuckled darkly, releasing her breast to kiss her deeply, his tongue plunging into her mouth as his fingers finally pushed inside her, stretching her deliciously.

"You're so wet for me," he growled against her lips, his fingers pumping in and out of her at a torturously slow pace. "Is this what you want? Hmm?" He added a third finger, curling them just right, and her entire body went taut, a strangled cry escaping her.

"Yes! Oh god, yes..." Her hands clawed at his shoulders, her hips rolling against his hand as he fucked her with his fingers, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. His thumb found her clit, rubbing tight circles that had her vision blurring, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Come for me, baby," he commanded, his voice deep and gravelly, sending a shiver down her spine. "Let me feel you."

And just like that, she shattered, her orgasm crashing over her in waves so intense she thought she might drown. Her cries echoed through the room as he held her through it, his fingers continuing to move inside her, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until she was boneless, trembling in his arms.

When he finally pulled his fingers free, she sagged against him, her legs barely able to support her weight. He caught her easily, his strong arms wrapping around her as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

"See?" he murmured, his voice soft now, filled with affection. "Perfect."

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such a sweet request, and i really hope it was exactly what you wanted anon !! i’m so sorry this is so late, but i’m trying to work through all my requests and i’m almost half way there :)

as a curvy gal myself, this was just so cathartic to write and i really hope others feel the same when reading this !! you’re all so so so gorgeous in your own ways and ily all sm <333

[itsnesss]

hey, are you willing to do a Myung-gi x read x jun hee where they both want her and are kind of fighting over her. thanks <3

𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | lee myung-gi & kim jun-hee × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | romantic tension, jealousy, slight arguments

word count | 0.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You were sitting on the edge of your bunk, fiddling with a bracelet. You didn’t want to draw attention, but that seemed impossible with the two of them around.

Myung-gi was leaning against the wall, his frown as deep as always, but his eyes softened every time they landed on you. On the other hand, Jun-hee, with her short hair and confident attitude, sat on the bunk next to yours, pretending not to care about you, though her words cut like knives every time Myung-gi spoke to you.

“What are you doing there alone?” Myung-gi asked suddenly, stepping closer to you. His hands rested on the edge of your bunk.

“Nothing important, just… thinking,” you replied, trying not to hold his gaze for too long.

Jun-hee let out a sarcastic laugh from her spot. “Thinking, sure. Probably thinking about how much she wants to get out of here, not sit around listening to your nonsense, Myung-gi.”

He clenched his jaw, turning to Jun-hee. “And what would you know, Jun-hee? You’re always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

She stood up slowly, her posture steady. “I know more than you think, and I also know she doesn’t need you pretending to be her protector,” she said, motioning toward you with a tilt of her head. “She doesn’t need someone like you, Myung-gi.” It was obvious they had history.

The atmosphere grew tense. You felt the weight of their stares on you, but you didn’t want to intervene just yet. It was as if they were both trying to prove something that didn’t need proving.

“And what do you think she needs, Jun-hee?” Myung-gi shot back, stepping closer to her. His voice was filled with frustration. “Someone like you? Someone who only knows how to use sharp words to hide their own insecurity?”

Jun-hee narrowed her eyes, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips. “At least I don’t need to hide behind excuses to justify my choices, Myung-gi.”

“Enough!” you said, standing between them before things got out of hand. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

They both froze, their expressions shifting from anger to discomfort at your intervention.

“There’s no need for you two to fight over me. This isn’t another test; you don’t have to compete like my attention is some kind of prize,” you added, crossing your arms.

Myung-gi lowered his gaze, his expression softening. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Jun-hee, on the other hand, let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry. He’s the one taking things too seriously.”

You knew Jun-hee used sarcasm as a shield, but you also noticed a hidden vulnerability in her gaze.

...

As you returned to the common dorm, they both walked by your side, competing for your attention in more subtle ways.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt in the test?” Myung-gi asked, his concern evident.

“Of course she’s fine. She’s not as fragile as you think, Myung-gi,” Jun-hee interrupted, rolling her eyes. “But if she needs someone who actually understands her, I’m right here.”

You sighed, tired of the same dynamic. Suddenly, you stopped, turning to face them.

“Can you both stop?” you asked, your voice firmer than you expected. “I don’t need you to take care of me like I can’t do it myself.”

They both fell silent, surprised by your tone. Finally, Myung-gi nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Jun-hee crossed her arms, but her expression softened too. “Alright. Maybe… I went a little overboard.”

[procyonloser]

(this was inspired by me watching got scenes)

Lucifer could feel the cold biting into his skin, until it hit his bones, but there was little reprieve from it - no comfort in between warm layers of silk and cloth. Just the vastness of the Great Hall, and roaring fires that did little but remind him of what he didn't have. When he was young, a boy playing between pillars and hiding behind statues to listen to his father speak and rule, he'd not felt it then.

It'd been hours of council meetings, of paperwork, and of hearing from his people, their problems and worries. The winter had been long, food was running slim, and their coffers were beginning to dry up. Lucifer had a beloved wine that had not touched his lips since the beginning of summer, and he missed it greatly, though at the very least his stomach was still full.

There was a sudden commotion as one of his commanders marched into the room, followed by lines of soldiers, all with flowing red capes that depicted his sigil on the back. Lucifer barely recognized most of them, he'd grown too old to know every single one of his soldiers.

"My Lord, raiders attempted to attack the most northern district of Pentagram. Unfortunately for them, one of our garrisons were making a routine patrol through the neighboring village. They were able to respond, and kill many of those that were part of the attack. We were able, however, to capture a man who seems to be their king." His commander spoke, after a deep bow before his king. Lucifer felt his eyebrows raise; it'd been a long few months of raiders stealing grain, weapons, lives, women.

"The raiders have no king, only distinct leaders of different factions." Carmilla spoke from her seat alongside Lucifer's council. "You can stop one, but another will arise. Don't mistake one success as a war now won."

Lucifer appreciated her words and experience in the matter, but it didn't change the success they had attained. He nodded his head at the woman, before turning to the commander.

"We will celebrate your success, but the Lady Carmine speaks truth - we shall not grow complacent, make certain to continue patrols in the area. It's possible that his men that fled or survived will want revenge."

At that, the commander made a queer expression, uneasy by something Lucifer said.

"Do you take issue with your king?" Lucifer asked after a moment, amusement on his tongue. He was used to being questioned, not the inspiring figure that his lady wife had once been. They saw him as weak.

"No, my Lord. It's... All but their king, their leader, whatever we may call him... They're all maidens."

Silence spread around the busy room.

"The raiders are... women?" Lucifer asked slowly, making certain he understood what was being said. The commander nodded briefly, and suddenly there was a flurry of whispers and gossip throughout the Lords and Ladies in the hall, and even amongst his council they seemed stunned. What monster would force young girls to fight their wars?

"Bring in their leader," Lucifer ordered.

The commanders dragged in a man in chains, and they needed more than one to do so. The man was tall, but not thin like those who struggled to find even corn on which to eat. There was no gauntness to his face, just a few bruises. He had brown hair, and wore a mix of furs and clothing that had most certainly been stolen from someone of higher standing. He'd woven fine royal purple fabric around his waist as what Lucifer could only interpret as an insult.

But, he was handsome, in his own way. Lucifer had taken many men to bed who were far less attractive, and they were all too eager to please their king. They were simple, easy things that filled a gap since his wife had passed. But, they weren't interesting, they weren't fun.

"I don't bow," the man said with a cocky grin as he reached the throne. The commander responded by kicking his knees out from under him, until the man fell. The look he sent the man promised a violent and bloody death, as though the raider wasn't the one in chains.

"That's enough," Lucifer said tiredly, gazing down at the man. "What is your name and title?"

"Adam, the First Man." He said instantly, to giggles in the crowd.

"Curious, I seem to be older than you - how exactly did you come by that title?" Lucifer asked with some humor, which got him a sharp grin in return.

"Cus none of you are real fuckin' men. You don't fight, you don't fuck, you just live in pretty castles. Look at you, a small man in all your fancy things. Pathetic. I bet you couldn't kill a hart, let alone a man." Adam jeered at him, and the crowds began to murmur.

"And yet you steal these pretty things, you rape, you kill." Lucifer shot back, getting to his feet, though it did little but demonstrate their height difference. "It seems to me as though you desire life of the gentleman, while you behave as a beast, first man."

Adam spit at his feet. "I don't rape, that's your soldiers."

Lucifer prickled at the implication. "You kidnap women and force them to fight for you."

"I do no such thing, they are offered the chance to live a more fulfilling life, and they come to me willing." Adam answered with a cocky smile. "You know, don't you? Little king? Since your dead wife was the one this nation truly feared, and you're just a placeholder."

Lucifer stared at him, before looking at his commander. "Remove his bindings. Don't question me. Remove them, and hand him your sword."

The room slowed to a stop, faces turning pale, confused. His council began to speak up, though those who knew him best kept quiet.

"If I best you, you will be my pet, you will no longer be a man. You will live out your days here, in the castle." Lucifer spoke easily, pulling his own sword from the hilt. Adam looked amused, eager, a bloodlust in his eyes. "If you kill me, well... You've killed the king. You'll be a legend, a hero, and everyone will know your name until the end of days."

"Deal." Adam breathed out, grabbing the sword eagerly. His stance was untrained, but strong. Proof he was a strong fighter.

But, Lucifer had been underestimated his entire life.

And he'd killed many men much larger.

He'd enjoy keeping Adam around.

[dominiquelucalover]

"Touching" blurbs, can I ask for number 47 with Street.

Recharge | Jim Street x GN!Reader

Prompt: touching their elbow to get their attention

CW: reader has some social anxiety in this one.

It was a S.W.A.T. fundraiser at HQ, the department rallying together to raise money for the children's hospital by hosting guests in the parking lot, bringing the community together with games, prizes, and a tour of some of S.W.A.T.'s finest, including Black Betty. There were people all over the place, parents with kids, couples who ranked high in society, teens just looking for something to do that day. The event was open to everyone, including the press and anyone who just wanted to drop by.

You were among those there to help with the event. The partner of Jim Street, you were invited because S.W.A.T. was a family. Even if you couldn't financially contribute, you were assured that there were plenty of ways for you to chip in. You were paired up with Deacon's wife Annie to run the snack stand, giving people cupcakes and cookies she'd made at home while her kids ran around and had fun with the other children who'd shown up. It was nice, but you were felt a little awkward and out of place. But what were you going to say? No to helping the fundraiser? As if.

You'd only been dating Street for a few months and had only recently met his team. Today was the first day you met Annie, and though she was really nice, you found it hard to stay on one topic with her. You were in totally different stages of your lives, so it made sense, but you wished you could just talk to her like a normal person. Hell, you wished you could talk to anyone normally.

You were brought out of your thoughts by a teen asking you a question. "Do you work here?"

You blinked and shook your head, smiling. "No, my boyfriend does. Why do ask?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I've never seen a lady S.W.A.T. person before."

You gave her a cupcake on a plate and smiled. "There are totally badass ladies in S.W.A.T.," you told her and pointed across the parking lot Chris. "That woman over there, she's on the best squad in the city."

"Really?" the teen asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Really," she said and watched the teen quickly thank you to hurry over to Chris.

You sighed heavily once she was gone though, feeling drained. You looked around the place, feeling a little nervous. It wasn't that you didn't like being there to help, but you wished you didn't have to talk to so many people. Kids and teens were fine, you'd never not talk to them, but it was getting harder to want to stand there and smile at everyone when all you wanted to do was hide.

"Do you need a break?" Annie asked, making you turn to look at her.

You bit you lip and nodded. "If that's okay."

"That's perfectly fine," she assured you with a smile, that motherly look about her.

"Thanks. I won't take long, I promise," you said softly and slipped away.

It didn't take long for you to find your boyfriend, who always knew how to make you feel better in these types of situation. He recharged your social battery just by letting you be and at that moment, you needed that.

He was talking to Hondo and Luca about something you couldn't bring yourself to care about at that moment. All you cared about was getting to him. So, you approached from behind and waited patiently for him to finish, but when it went on for longer than you could wait, you reached out and gently touched his elbow.

He looked at you, still talking and opened his arm to you, immediately noticing your closed off body language and bland expression. You went straight into his side and hid your face in his shirt, and he kept going like it was normal. He didn't make a big deal out of it and carried on business as usual. He held you close and securely, letting you breath in the smell of his freshly washed shirt and his body spray, listening to his voice as you took all the time you needed. That's what he was there for, after all, and he was more than happy to be there for you.

[iwoulddieforher]

Random Casey x Alex ask for you… neither seem like the type to cry. Like they’re the ones who feel like they need to be strong and hold it in, in front of others. So what would happen when they finally break in front of the other? What’s the reactions?

I love this prompt! Thank you!

Alex crying is definitely something that happens really rarely, but when it does it surprises her as much as it surprises Casey. It's a weird moment- Alex comes home, feeling guilty as hell for something that happened during the workday, and Casey comes over to cook for her in her apartment like they do sometimes and she turns around to ask how much seasoning Alex wants her to use or something stupid and domestic like that and realizes Alex is just staring at her blankly with tears streaming down her face.

But Casey has a lot of family members, younger ones too, so although someone as esteemed as Alex crying catches her totally off guard she's used to comforting people- large family reunions always end in fights, growing up with siblings means sharing their hardships, that kind of thing- so she just turns the stove off so nothing burns, pours Alex a glass of water, and then sits next to her and tentatively asks Alex what she'd like her to do-

Alex turns and just pulls Casey into her, burying her face in the crook of Casey's neck, and just focused on the feeling of Casey rubbing little circles in her back while her tears get soaked up by the redhead's shirt.

Alex crying always starts and proceeds like this- completely wordlessly. She doesn't have much facial expression when she cries, her face just solidifies into a mask other than her eyes getting puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Internally, Casey is freaking the fuck out but knows better than to let her shock be evident in anything that she does.

I imagine proceeding would be difficult for Alex- figuring out the appropriate time to stop crying, how to act after she stops crying, that sort of thing, so a lot of the time it ends with Casey just taking Alex to bed and tucking her in (or getting in with her, spooning) and Alex is mostly fine by the time she wakes up.

Casey is a lot more reactive, but she can also tell when she's overwhelmed and knows she's prone to crying, so she'll just try to hide at first. Alex knows she had a rough day at work so she's assuming she'll come over, but she doesn't, and then eventually at some point she gets concerned and checks Casey's location on Life360- Casey's still at the office, and it's nearly eleven, and there's no way she's actually still working. Alex tries to call her and the call is declined after the second ring, which means Casey does still have her phone on her, it's not like she left it in the office- Alex gets in the car with after a little bit of nervous fumbling and hesitation and drives over.

Casey crying is a lot more verbal, not at first but if she's actually sobbing she's talkative, which really freaks Alex out, and she's more inexperienced with dealing with people crying to her. She tries to use her prosecutor skills, because victims and such have cried to her before and she knows how to deal with that to some extent, but Casey crying isn't like that because Alex starts to feel upset by it too, Casey's emotions are almost infectious to her- which is nice when Casey's laughing, but when she's crying it hurts Alex's soul.

At first, Casey cries silently, albeit a little frustrated, rubbing her eyes a lot and sniffling, and if she actually breaks into a more dramatic stage of crying it's quiet for the first couple minutes and then she just starts rambling. Like really, just blurting out whatever words are forming in her head. If it's depressed crying there's self loathing mixed in and if it's angry crying there's a lot of swear words- which is another different between them, because Alex crying is always just out of sheer overwhelmedness, so there's not really much variation in the way she cries, but Casey cries out of different emotions and has altered states due to what emotion caused her to start to break down.

Alex doesn't know how to deal with crying people as I keep stating, so her version of comforting is mostly just trying to respond to all the nonsense Casey's garbling out, and then at some point distracting her with kisses, which Casey is fine with. It does effectively ground her, because it's hard to focus on whatever has you so overwhelmed when Alexandra fucking Cabot is kissing you on the nose and on the cheeks and on the lips if she's feeling a little bolder.

Unlike with Alex, after some degree of comfort Casey can self-soothe herself down the rest of the way, and then she'll explain what made her so upset and talk about how she's going to fix it. Alex thinks it's really admirable how Casey can go from weeping to ambitiously planning how to fix all the wrongs in the world. Casey feels like she's able to conquer everything that she feels so strongly about because she has her girlfriend by her side. It works out nicely.

[velvetvexations]

I wasn’t totally fine with it, I thought it was weird but trusted her enough to think she had her own reasons.

Such a brave stance against transphobia. If someone misgenders trans women you're going to be understanding if I continue to say I respect them and reblog their based transfymynysm? If someone was he/himming you and I said I trusted them to have a good reason for it, and continued to pal around with them, that's fine, yeah?

Also what’s with all this hostility? I thought we had a positive interaction a bit ago and were like at least a little cool with each other now?

Were we? When I had you blocked you continued to go through my blog complaining about my takes and getting worked up about how everything I do vexates you. Our last conversation was me getting you to correct [name withheld] because it apparently got confused on something you told it and to your credit you did that and [name withheld] did delete the post. Funny as it is I think [name withheld] actually has surprisingly consistent morals as far as yall go. The bar is truly underwater, but relatively speaking, you know.

My point is, I feel like you've been consistently polite in DMs even to the point of expressing sympathy when I got really worked up and anxious, but then immediately go and trash me in really petty ways, and continue to go along with accusations of me believing things I manifestly do not believe. You yourself made a post about how I "call trans women groomers" because I think a niche on a dying social media website is unhealthy for them and could lead to them being abused like the last group that tried to reclaim 'baeddel.'

And, I mean, really, the audacity to go all "I thought we were on better terms now? :(" after you reblogged Talia having a meltdown over a post from months ago where I very briefly mentioned practicing Hinduism and she went on a rant about how Hinduism needs to be done away with because it's an inherently evil religion. (see here before anyone tries to say that's not what she was saying)

But beyond that, you believe and support really horrible things about others, so I'm not sure why you're expecting us to be super cordial. I am, right now, being a lot nicer to you than a lot of my engagements with people in your camp. Like you're good and cool with a woman who misgenders trans men and tells people to send them harassing messages to "demoralize" them, that alone is pretty bad, let alone all the lateral aggression you prop up.

I don't know why I'm getting so defensive about this. Be a kinder person if you don't want me to be "hostile" lol? I'm not calling you a moron, for the sheer size of the gulf between us I think that's relatively polite discourse by my standards. If you want to sincerely be my friend be a kinder person. I'll invite you to D&D games.

Seriously, Flen. I told you in DMs I was going to leave you unblocked again to hold a door open if you ever want to get out of this bullshit and be a kinder, better transfeminist. I would love nothing more for us to be pals, genuinely. I've literally helped a TERF deradicalize and retransition with this approach.

But you're going to have to stop calling people dehumanizing slurs like "th**fab" and maybe consider misgendering something worth taking a firm stance on even when it's not trans women.

This stuff is also barely related to what I asked. That being, what are TRFs (supposedly me) saying about bi and pan people?

I don't know, I said I didn't know in the OP, that's why I was only responding to the tags. Which is to say that yeah, maybe you never had problems when you identified as aro yourself, but you were totally behind a woman going "all the transandrobros are the same people who were pro-ace during the ace discourse" just recently, a spinelessness that fits considering how quick you were to fold on your objection to Thicc misgendering people.

Imagine my shock (actually not shock at all) when I found out that trans radfems are also exclusionists towards ace/aro people and bi/pan people

lmao the fuck are they saying about bi/pan people