#is it something to be proud of. probably not

[markrosewater]

I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.

The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.

Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.

I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.

You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.

Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.

You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.

And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.

And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.

Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.

That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.

Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.

But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.

If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.

When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.

Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?

How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?

Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.

There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.

I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?

Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.

Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.

And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.

To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?

Thanks for reading.

[egophiliac]

So.... what are your thoughts on Ace's UM, if you haven't been asked this already?

sneaky magic for the sneakiest boy

no but really, I think it fits him really well! I had thought his UM would probably involve something kinda sleight-of-handy or pickpockety! and I looooved that it made such a nice loop-around back to episode 1. ❤️ I was. kind of half-expecting him to just run out and punch Riddle in the nose again. but instead this time 'twas he who offed the queen's head! it was great! and he did it while stone-cold terrified out of his mind! because Ace is the only remotely normal or well-adjusted person at NRC and therefore the only one who is like "we're going to literally die, this is super effed up". but he did it anyway!!!! I AM SO PROUD

[enwoso]

hey i absolutely love the lovie fics and i had a request for a fic about lovie getting into alessias make up or one about her as a newborn and meeting alessias family at her parents house

DAB TO FAR | alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

the faint hum of the hairdryer had been the background noise for most of the afternoon for alessia's as she was preparing for the fifa awards in london.

the award show being a significant event, her and a few of her other teammate's nominated for the fifa best XI and alessia wanted everything to be perfect.

she tasked her brothers, luca and gio the job of baby sitting you for the night. admittedly they were not the blondes first choice — that would have definitely gone to her mum and dad. but they were out of town choosing to extend their winter holiday in the sun.

so her brothers would have to do. but while alessia was getting her hair and makeup done. it had been surprisingly quiet in her home, too quiet.

her hair stylist, louise finishing up her curled bun as she quickly excused herself telling the girl she should probably check up on you in which she just laughed waving the blonde off to do whatever she needed to do.

alessia's gut twinged as she walked up the stairs, her hair styled perfectly with each hair having a place. but something wasn’t right.

you weren't exactly known for being silent, especially when you were at home. alessia had a hard time getting you to be quiet in the comfort of your own home. you were more of a constant giggler, singer or babbler.

alessia slipped the salon cape on the banister at the top of the stairs, "guys?" she called out.

walking into the room where she could hear gio screaming at what she discovered to be the tv, as he was glued to the gaming console, headset on, controlled in hand as he sat on the edge of the bottom of the bed.

luca was sprawled out on the spare bedroom bed, sound asleep over the noise of gio, his mouth slightly open. typical.

gio was too immersed to even notice her approach. "gio," alessia said, hands on her hips.

he jumped, scrambling to pull one side of the headset off as he noticed his sister with a not too impressed look on her face.

"oh, hey less. your hair looks nice, louise's has done a grand job!" gio smiled as he tried to waver the unimpressed look of his sisters face.

"where's lovie?"

gio face went blank, then turned to mild panic before he stuttered out a response, "uh- i..i thought she was with you?"

alessia's sharp inhale could have rivaled a gale-force wind, "you thought she was with me?"

"well, yeah, she was here a second ago-"

"giorgio!" she groaned, cutting him off as she spun on her heel to try and find you, she didn't have time to lecture him right now. her mind raced as she checked the kitchen and the backyard calling out for you.

"lovie, baby where are you?"

but i wasn't until she was doing the second check of the the upstairs when she passed her room that she noticed something odd. the door was slightly open, and alessia could distinctly remember shutting it earlier.

she gently pushed it open and froze as she poked her head into the room.

you perched on the vanity chair, one leg swinging back and forth as you were surrounded by an explosion of makeup.

eyeshadow palettes were wide open, power dusted across the table and floor like a multicoloured snowstorm. lipstick tubes uncapped and their contents smeared across your tiny face in bold streaks of red and pink.

alessia's blush brush clutched in your tiny hand, its bristles now dipped in an alarming mix of colours.

noticing your mummy in the mirror stood behind you a small wince on her face as you turned and look to her with wide innocent eyes.

your lips - mostly your chin - coated in a sticky uneven layer of alessia's favourite lip gloss.

"mummy! i pretty like you" you declared proudly holding up the brush as if it was a magic wand.

alessia bit back a laugh, she wanted to cry over her ruined makeup but the sight of you so proud of your work melted away any frustration that was building.

"lovie," alessia said crouching down to your level as you sat on the vanity chair, "what have you done?"

you big smile faltered slightly, "i getting ready for the awards.. like you!"

alessia let out a small sigh, softening her tone, "lovie, you know you can't play with mummy's makeup like this. it's special to me and not for little girls"

your bottom lip trembled and alessia quickly reached out to wipe a bit of lipstick off your cheek. "it's okay but we're gonna have to clean this up together alright?"

you nodded solemnly your hands still clutching the brush and a half melted lipstick tube.

after cleaning up majority of the mess - and giving your face a thorough wipe, alessia was matching back into the guest room as you sat downstairs in the living room watching a programme in a fresh pair of pyjamas.

walking into the room, alessia flicked off the tv in the middle of the game gio was playing as she stood blocking the view of the tv.

"hey! alessia!" gio protested, glaring up at her as the gaming controller fell from his hands to his lap.

"don't you 'hey' me. you and him are supposed to be watching her" alessia gestures to downstairs. "you know where i found her? covered in my makeup! luca's asleep and your here playing a game i know you spent more than 12 hours a day playing!"

gio winced, sensing the slight frustration in his younger sisters tone, "she was quiet so i thought.."

"exactly! she was quiet that should have been your first clue!"

alessia didn't spare him any more words as she moved over to were luca lay sprawled out asleep on the bed. jabbing him slightly hard in the shoulder causing the boy to jolt up.

luca rubbed a hand over his face as he blinked groggily, "what's going on?"

"you're supposed to be helping watch lovie, not napping!"

"she's fine" luca mumbled defensively as his eyes fluttered closed again.

"erm she's wasn't actually, she was busy picasso-ing herself with my makeup in my room!"

luca groaned but alessia was already on her way back downstairs knowing her the makeup artist here to do her makeup would be waiting as she muttered under her breath about her useless brothers

as the makeup artist did the finishing touches as you sat comfortably in your mummy's arms getting your hugs in before alessia left as alessia couldn't help but chuckle at the memory of your colourful face.

you may have made a mess and ruined a bit of her makeup that she would no doubly have to replace but there wasn't anything she would trade it for then to have those memories with you.

she would however think twice about trusting her brothers with babysitting duties again...

[checkeredflagggs]

Footnote of a Story

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: Logan and his girlfriend have been together for over 10 years — people have posted about it 8 times

a/n: this is canon to the story of us story, just some backstory that probably won’t be talked about in the main story at all

a/n2: I fiddled about with the timeline of the Covid quarantine — namely that it was already happening by Valentine’s Day

a/n3: I also don’t know when Oscar and Lily started dating so here it’s when they’re 16

Masterlist | Taglist

10 Years Old

y/ns_mother

liked by sargeant1, l/n1, sargeant2, and 183 others

y/ns_mother: well it looks like y/n has a crush…she was very determined to make “the bestest card ever and make sure it’s the good candy mom!”

view all comments

sargeant1: logan was the same way…he nearly talked me into buying a bouquet bigger then is he for her

↳y/ns_mother: they’re so adorable

↳sargeant1: they really are

sargeant2: oh young love…

↳l/n1: i guess when you know you know…doesn’t matter the age…i guess

↳sargeant2: they are very cute together

randocousin: giving us all old timers a bad name 😹

↳drunkaunt: bah they won’t last…once they get to the real world…nothing ever lasts…

↳rudecousin: just cause your marriage failed doesn’t mean theirs will. You’re just a mean old drunk

↳randocousin: not this shit again…

not_y/n: not_logan I told you — I knew very young that you were the one for me

↳not_logan: I won’t doubt you again babe

↳not_y/n: I don’t know why you doubted me in the first place ngl liked by not_logan

not_oscar: oh so you guys have always been this grossly in love

↳not_y/n: booo you grinch liked by not_logan, not_lilyz

12 Years Old

y/n_mother

liked by l/n1, drunkaunt, weirduncle, sargeant3, 212 others

y/ns_mother: we might have a little baker on our hands…y/n was adamant that she had to cook these cookies all by herself

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l/n1: she didn’t even let me have one…

sargeant3: logan was beaming when he came home with these…

↳y/ns_mother: I’m not going to tell them of course…but we’ve started a little wedding fund for them

↳sargeant3: so have we. It’s very obvious where this is going to go

↳y/ns_mother: oh I can’t wait…

drunkaunt: their still together??

↳rudecousin: they’re*

↳rudecousin: and they are! Shockingly relationships can last longer then the hangover the next day

↳drunkaunt: do not start something with me…you weren’t they’re for it

↳rudecousin: there*

↳randocousin: must you rudecousin?

↳rudecousin: she makes it so easy!

↳drunkaunt: your a mean little man

↳randocousin: don’t

↳rudecousin: …you’re drunkaunt

not_logan: I didn’t know you baked those!

↳not_y/n: yeah that was the last time I attempted that

↳not_y/n: not pictured was my mom’s destroyed kitchen…liked by not_logan

14 Years Old

y/n privated a post

liked by y/ns_mother, sister, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 469 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n: 💜💜 he got me a card!

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logansargeant: I always get you a card!

↳y/n: I know but now I can post it for everyone to see!

y/ns_mother: oh to see you guys now…4 years strong

↳y/n: moooooommm go be embarrassing on your own post

oscarpiastri: so you’re the reason he couldn’t stop looking at his phone?

↳y/n: I am! And you are?

↳logansargeant: y/n this is one of my friends from karting! Meet Oscar — he’s the Australian

↳y/n: hi Australian Oscar!

↳oscarpiastri: don’t you mean best friend logansargeant?

↳y/n: HE DOES NOT CAUSE THATS ME!!

↳logansargeant: my best karting friend but the best friend spot has always been hers liked by y/n

16 Years Old

not_logan

liked by not_y/n, not_oscar, not_lilyz, and 392 others

tagged: not_y/n

not_logan: a small day spent together before someone goes off on a national tour!

Congrats baby — I’m so fucking proud of you 🩵🩵

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not_y/n: thank you babe! For both the day and for the constant support you’ve given me over the years

↳not_logan: always!

not_oscar: congrats again on the tour y/n!

↳not_y/n: thanks osc! And lmk if you can make any of the dates — I’ll get you tickets

↳not_oscar: oh Logan already has it all planned out

↳not_y/n: awwww

y/ns_mother: oh I’m so proud of you two

↳not_y/n: mom please…

↳not_logan: thanks mum l/n!

↳not_y/n: don’t encourage her!

not_lilyz: oh you guys are so cute!

↳not_y/n: thanks Lily!

↳not_y/n: and thanks again for making a private account

↳not_lilyz: oh that’s not a problem — and is probably good planning for the future

↳not_oscar:😳😳

yoursister: haven’t heard from drunkaunt in a while…she ok?

↳rudecousin: still drunk and mean

↳not_y/n: it’s just neither Logan or I friended her — in fact I blocked her on this account 😂

↳yoursister: good call

18 Years Old

not_y/n

liked by not_logan, y/ns_mother, not_oscar, not_lilyz, and 273 others

tagged: not_logan

not_y/n: awwwweee… my baby surprised me back in Florida. Thank you for coming home to me for Valentine’s Day

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not_logan: glad I managed to catch you before you leave me again 😔

↳not_y/n: nooooo I’m so sorry baby

↳not_y/n: you say the word and I’ll pack you up in my suitcase and take you everywhere with me

↳not_logan: …I’m not there yet but I’ll let you know

y/ns_mother: oh I’m so glad you managed to catch her…with my handwriting I wasn’t sure if she left the 13th or the 18th…

↳not_logan: thanks for all your help mum l/n!

↳not_y/n: thanks for helping him surprise me mama

↳y/ns_mother: of course baby

not_oscar: I don’t think that’s part of your diet Logan…

↳not_lilyz: like you haven’t cheated on yours a hundred times in the last month…

↳not_oscar: 😑😑

↳not_y/n: have I mentioned I love you recently lily?? liked by not_lilyz

rudecousin: heads up — drunkaunt spotted this over my shoulder and started a rant while going for her keys

↳not_y/n: …I’m gonna go start my tour early…

↳not_logan: I’m gonna head back to England real fast

↳yoursister: cowards

↳not_y/n: yup

↳not_logan: absolutely

20 Years Old

not_logan

liked by not_y/n, not_oscar, not_lilyz, and 231 others

tagged: not_y/n

not_logan: fun activities to do while locked up during Valentine’s Day…

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not_y/n: we’re gonna be cooking champs by the time this ends 💪🏻

↳not_logan: I love you so much but I really hope we’re not locked up that long…

↳not_y/n: 🥺🥺🥺

↳not_logan: again I love you so much but we burned water yesterday…

↳not_y/n: ok that’s fair

↳not_oscar: how???

↳not_y/n: we’re simply that talented

↳not_logan: we got distracted 😉😉

↳not_oscar: ewww I don’t need to know that liked by not_y/n, not_logan

y/ns_mother: oh I hope you guys are doing ok…I’d be there for you if I could…love you guys…

↳not_y/n: we’re doing ok mama!!

↳not_logan: …we’re not dead yet but our lack of kitchen skills are becoming more evident…

↳y/ns_mother: oh no…don’t worry baby…I’ll get yoursister to help me video you…I’ll teach you to cook…

↳not_y/n: thank you mama 🙏🙏

not_lilyz: ok so I’m a little jealous…

↳not_y/n: awwww lily we miss you!

↳not_lilyz: miss you guys too

↳not_oscar: 🤨

↳not_lilyz: …their food looks so much better than yours

↳not_y/n: at least you guys can cook something — ours is just anything we could cut into a heart shape… liked by not_lilyz, not_oscar

bandmember: you guys are so cute…

↳not_y/n: thank you 😊

↳not_y/n: also check your mail…there might be something for you…😈😈😈

↳bandmember2: oh???????

sargeant4: how’s the weather over there?

↳not_logan: 😑🙄 cold and snowy

↳not_logan: not that we can see any of it…

↳not_y/n: it could be worse!

↳not_logan: how?

↳not_y/n: we could be stuck in your apartment and not my house

↳not_logan: …that’s true I guess

22 Years Old

logansargeant posted a story, not_y/n posted a story

[thank you to my girl! 🩵🩵🩵][oh Logan my love…an ocean apart and yet you spoil me so…]

user1 replied A GIRL?!? Logan Sargeant do you have a girlfriend!

user2 replied GIRLFRIEND???

georgerussell63 replied oh that’s cute!

oscarpiastri replied maybe I need to tag Lily in this…

↳logansargeant oh she’s already seen it

↳oscarpiastri 🫣😨

↳logansargeant didn’t know you wanted flowers and presents though…

↳oscarpiastri who doesn’t…

oscarpiastri replied you guys keep setting the bar high

↳not_y/n gotta get on my level osc

↳oscarpiastri 🙄

lilyzneimer replied brb going to make Oscar take notes…

↳not_y/n he said pretty much the same thing…

↳lilyzneimer 🤣🤣

yoursister replied you guys are literally the only reason I believe in love still

↳not_y/n awww babes it’ll happen for you soon

↳yoursister maybe sooner than you think…

↳not_y/n oh???

y/ns_mother replied oh your young love…

↳not_y/n he’s the one mama

↳y/ns_mother oh baby I know…I’ve known for over a decade now…

↳not_y/n 🥰🥰🥰

25 Years Old (after the Story of Us)

y/n

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer and 12,697,283 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/n: You can hear it in the silence, You can feel it on the way home, You are in love, true love

view all comments

user3: oh my god so lovely!

user4: Logan Sargeant I wasn’t familiar with your game…

lilymhe: oh my god did Logan get you all that?

↳y/n: he did! He’s a real romantic

↳lilymhe: awww 🥺

↳lilymhe: alex_albon take notes please

↳alex_albon: oh no

↳oscarpiastri: oh this is very common

↳oscarpiastri: get used to it. They’ve been like this since they were 10

↳user5: shut up that’s so cute

oscarpiastri: please stop

↳logansargeant: I will not.

↳y/n: you just gotta do better

↳oscarpiastri: I try but you guys keep raising the bar

↳y/n: skill issue

↳user6: you can tell you guys have been friends for a while…

↳y/n: about 10 years now!

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @theendofthematerialgworl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478

[daryldove]

Distraction

daryl x gn!reader

summary: you keep daryl company daryl while he recovers in the farm house

“cut it out,” you giggle, squirming under daryl's hand as he jabs your side playfully. after offering to take the injured hunter some dinner, you manage to convince him to let you stay and keep him company, something he'll deny enjoying if anyone asks. truthfully, you two had become rather close after everything. although from his perspective, not by choice. “You're supposed to be resting, mister,” you scold him with a smirk as you adjust your position against the headboard.

“can't when ya botherin’ me.” you gasp dramatically at his sarcastic comeback. daryl is incredibly charming, even when he didn't mean to be. it's one of the things you quite admire about him, as well as his sarcastic humour, something the others didn't get to witness to the extent you did. you're not even completely sure if they knew it existed. but he knew how to make you laugh, and he seemed to enjoy it.

“is that what this is now? and here I thought you loved my company, dixon.” that earns you a scoff in response. “admit it,” you continue with a proud tone, “im your favourite in the group.” he doesn't respond right away, forcing you to turn your attention from staring ahead to check on him. the sudden, unexpectedly soft look in his eye has you momentarily speechless.

“what?” you internally thank any god out there that your voice doesn't crack in that moment. gaze flicking over his dirty face, you can't help admire how oddly adorable he looks bundled up under sheets and wrapped in bandages. you feel your heart clench. eventually, daryl shrugs it away with a grunt, shutting himself back off. it's something he does often. you can practically see the thought piling up in his mind, but he always holds back. it stirs an unaccustomed feeling in your gut. complicated.

something feels different this time. maybe because for the first time since you met him, you feel safe. vulnerable. he's lying injured before you, both protected by four walls. it feels wrong to take advantage of this moment to open him up, but maybe that's what it'll take. “are your stitches bothering you?” his hand stops yours from reaching out to touch the bandage around his head, freezing you in place. his hand is rough and warm around yours, short circuiting your mind for a split second. you don't pull away, despite him probably expecting you to. instead, you lean closer towards him.

daryl's eyes flick between yours, as if answers to his curiousity reflects in them. you want to tease him, say something out of pocket that will turn him speechless. instead, you move your hand to rest against his cheek. he practically flinches as you cup his face, reacting like he's undeserving of the softness of your touch. but it doesn't appear unwanted. never.

“how are you feeling?” you ask with a light voice. it's not about his injuries, and he seems to pick up on that. he nods slightly and clears his throat before answering. “good… fine.” your smile grows at his shyness.

“that so?” finally, you let yourself be playful, reassured that he won't be so easily scared off. his gaze is intense and unwavering, and you find yourself unable to resist anymore. leaning down until your lips are barely inches apart, you give him just enough time to pull away. part of you expects him to, like the wall you spent all this time breaking down will be pitched back up in seconds. but he doesn't, nor does he shout and fling himself off the bed to avoid you like your anxiety is convinced he would. so you finally press your lips against his.

daryl's eyes widen in surprise and disbelief while yours subconsciously flutter shut. kissing him feels exactly like you imagined. you can feel your cheeks heating up once you finally pull away, a nervous giggle escaping you at how dazed he looks.

“what?” a smile creeps onto your lips as you question him again. you can practically see daryl's mind spinning as he speechlessly stares up back at you. there's an unreadable look in his eye as seconds pass. unable to help it, your eyes fall to his lips. this time, it's him who pulls you in with a large hand on your neck. his boldness pulls a surprised moan that he swallows.

“guess i am a good distraction,” you whisper after eventually pulling away, scoring a rare, soft chuckle from the hunter.

“guess so.”

[orangebitters]

Well, 1.) do you have any proof of that? Not saying that I put anything past Israel, mind you, but you actually *do* need proof if you want to state something as fact, not just "well, Hamas said it, and that's good enough for me. And while we're on the subject...

2. Oh, we're all back to supporting Hamas now? Because when it was about getting the ceasefire and shutting down any and all discussions about accountability for Oct. 7th, it was "Hamas what who, them crazy whatfucks that probably like, live in a dead sea cave somewhere, no idea, I cannot beLIEVE that you are even thinking of mentioning them in the same breath as discussions of a ceasefire." Now that we get the ceasefire, it's "Hamas, the proud protectors of the nation, speakers for all palestine, whose integrity and word is never to be questioned - these guys don't even cheat at Go Fish?"

Have they had a massive change of heart in the last 3 months? Did some ghosts or Whos teach them the true meaning of Christmas? Is this the kinder, gentler, yassified Hamas, that we all support uncritically now?

Someone kindly please send me the memo I missed.

hilarious that the headline isn't "israel breaks terms" but at this point what else do you expect

[barcenal999]

Ava's going pro

Lucy Bronze x Bronze!daughterOC

Summary: Lucy was a teen mom and her 17 year old daughter tells her she's signing her first professional contract with Barcelona

It's set in Janurary 2024

Tags: fluff

Word count: 5k

A/N: I've posted this on AO3 before, but decided to start posting here

Ava made two cups of tea and came up to Lucy, who was sitting on the couch and reading a book. Probably something she would recommend to her later.

"Mom? Can we talk?" She didn't even know why she was so stressed about it. It's not like her going pro was something they never talked about. It's just that everyone always assumed she would finish high school first.

Lucy put down her book, patting the seat beside her, for the teenager to take. "Sure. What is it? A new coming out? You're straight? You're trans? You know you can always tell me, it's not like it would change anything in the way I love you." Lucy was never good with talking about serious subjects, so when she felt one coming, she rambled before Ava could even bring up the topic. "Please tell me you're not pregnant. Please don't make the same mistakes I did. I mean, you're not a mistake. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me..." She would have probably been rambling forever if she wasn't interrupted.

"Mom! Stop! Please. I'm not pregnant. You've been teaching me about safe sex and using protection since I was 13 years old."

"Well you know it's good to teach your kid about protection when they're younger than you were, when you got pregnant with them. It's the first rule of being a teen parent.” Lucy got pregnant when she wasn’t even 15 yet. She was deep in denial, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t a lesbian. Dating an 18 years old boy however, ended with her accepting that she had no interest in boys. 2 months after breaking up with him, she found out she was gonna be a single lesbian teen mom. „And it's good that you're not pregnant. There's already enough people living in this house."

"And who's fault is that?" Ava laughed at her mother and was thankful for her deflection. Being bad at talking about serious subjects was definitely genetic.

"Hey! You said you were okay with my poliamory."

"Yes mom, I'm great with it and I like both Keira and Ona. Can we stop talking about sex and relationships now, and talk about the important thing I have to ask you?"

Lucy sighed, getting herself ready for anything her daughter could throw at her. While Ava took a sip of her tea, the footballer decided it would be safest to put her cup down on the coffee table.

Ava took a deep breath to psyche herself up.

"How would you feel if I played with you on the team? Like, if I signed with Barca?" Her fingers seemed surprisingly interesting in that moment.

"Well, I already assumed that it would be Barça you would be signing with when you go pro. By why are you asking me now? You still have over a year of school left."

"So about that... you remember how some of us from the B team have been invited to train with you a week ago?" She hesitantly looked up at Lucy, and only continued when she saw her nod her head. She was surprised that the only thing she saw on her mom's face was curiosity, which gave her a boost of confidence. "Jona approached me and offered me a first team contract, since my contract for the B team is ending. He said that the details could be discussed when you agree."

Lucy's smile grew as her daughter kept talking. When she finished, she pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

"That's wonderful that they noticed you honey. I don't think you should be asking me for permission. You're almost an adult and I think it's your decision, but I would be thrilled to play beside you.” She took Ava’s face in her hands and directed her to look her in the eyes. „I’m so proud of you. It’s like yesterday you were barely walking and already kicking a ball, and now you’re 17 and signing a contract with the best club in Europe.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead and let go of her face, trying to hide the tears filling her eyes.

So many years of doing her best at raising Ava, having the serious conversations when they were needed, yet she still couldn’t hold herself together. Immense pride filled her every time Ava achieved something new and she couldn’t control her emotions.

„I just want to be sure, that you’re ready for it.” The teenager stayed calm, as if it was her whos kid was about to sign a lifechanging contract, not the other way around. „Everyone will find out that you have me. The fans will know how young you had me.”

„I’ve had years to learn how to deal with the fans.” Lucy couldn’t get used to how mature her daughter has become. „How about we deal with it the good old Bronze way?"

„Tell no one and see how that goes for us? Sounds good to me. I wanna see people freak out and try to figure out our connection. My old teammates would always freak out about things like that. They’d create all of those speculations and conspiracy theories and I couldn’t say anything.”

That’s when they knew the conversation was over. Both Bronze women laughing and already turning on the TV, to watch another episode of Station 19.

When Keira and Ona came home a few hours later, there was a celebratory dinner waiting. Lucy didn’t let Ava help with any of the cooking and didn’t even let her set the table. „We’re celebrating you, so go sit down and put some music on.” She said, when the teen came asking what to do.

Ava was a big music fan and making hours long spotify queues and playlists was something she loved doing. Finding new music and then sharing it with her family was kind of a hobby for her.

„What is that smell?” Ona asked Ava, when she came up to greet her with a hug.

„I don’t know, she wouldn’t let me help, or even enter the kitchen.” Ava shrugged. „But if I was guessing from the smell, I would say she’s making my favourite lemon and chilli shrimp.” The smirk on her face told then, that she knew that was exactly that.

„Lucy! Why didn’t you let your kid help you with dinner?”

„It’s a special occasion! We’re celebrating her. I can’t let my daughter cook her own celebratory dinner.” When the two younger women heard that, Ona turned to look at Ava, while Keira turned to Lucy.

"What did you do?"

„Lucy! You weren’t supposed to encourage violent behaviour!”

They both said it at the same time and this time Lucy smiled sheepishly, like she actually had something to be ashamed of.

To be honest, the last time Lucy made a celebratory dinner for her daughter, was when Ava beat up a homophobe. When she picked her up from school, she told her teachers she would deal with her at home, but instead made a whole day celebrating her. She had to face a scolding from both her girlfriends that day.

„I didn’t do anything!” Ava lifted her hands in surrender.

„Yes you did. You are incredible.” Lucy said to the teenager and then turned to her girlfriends. „We’ll tell you as we eat.” They moved to the dining room and she grabbed an already opened bottle of white wine. “Ava? Do you want some?”

Lucy preferred for Ava to learn to drink responsibly under supervision, than for her to go out and learn it by drinking irresponsibly. She knew that her going out to drink with friends was inevitable, but she wanted for her to know how the alcohol affects her beforehand.

They finally sat down and Lucy distributed the shrimp (Ava was right) equally for everyone. As Ava started eagerly eating her dinner, Ona and Keira looked at Lucy expectantly. They were still sceptical, not sure if what they hear will actually be positive.

“So what’s the news?” Ava put down her fork, to tell them, but Lucy was faster.

“The details have not been discussed with the club yet, but Ava told me today, that she was offered a full senior team contract from Barca.” Both women who just heard the news stood up and wrapped the teenager in a tight hug.

“They said to discuss it with mom and then we’ll negotiate the contract. We’ll probably do the negotiations the day after tomorrow, since mom already called them to set it up. And it’s not like I need for them to pay me much, I’m not planning on moving out anytime soon. I already told mom I’ll contribute to the living costs accordingly, but she told me to save up the money and not worry about it.”

“It’s gonna be so fun to play and train with you!” Ona beamed. “We’re gonna cause so much mayhem.” She whispered in her ear, so that neither of the responsible adults (mostly Keira, neither of them was sure that Lucy could be called a responsible adult) could hear.

Lucy couldn’t believe this was her life. Two beautiful and wonderful girlfriends, who cared for her daughter. Ava starting a professional football career at just 17 years old. All four of them living their dreams in sunny Barcelona.

...

A week later, after Lucy’s morning field practice and Ava skipping out halfway through her school day, they were sitting in a room with a bunch of FC Barcelona officials, some of the coaching stuff. Pen in hand, number 17 shirt with the name A. Bronze on the back, Ava signed her contract. At first Lucy hid behind the cameras, not wanting to be captured by the media team. They also took some pictures with her in them, for later and for private use.

The team had an afternoon gym session that day, that Ava would be joining them on for the first time. They didn’t tell the rest of the team, besides the captains, about her contract, so it was going to be a surprise.

When everyone was finally in the gym, starting their workouts, Ava waited out the door with Jona. She was wearing her brand new training gear, with number 17. The coach entered the gym first, telling her to wait outside. He then got everyone’s attention. It took about 3 minutes, but finally everyone was quiet and looking at him.

“Most of you don’t know this yet, but we have a new player joining us, who just signed her contract.” It wasn’t surprising to have new people signing, since it was the middle of the January transfer window, and players often joined teams before it was announced.” Before I let her in, I’m seriously warning you, not to burn the whole training centre to the ground with her involved.” He pointed at the group of younger players. “I’m talking to you.” He opened the door to let Ava enter. “Everyone, welcome Baby England to the team!”

“Lucy why is your baby in our gym?!”

“Lucy you lost your kid again!”

“A little baby! Can I hold her?!”

“Jona! It’s dangerous to have little kids running around the gym.”

The teasing exploded within the gym, which caused Ava to frown. She tried to look upset, but in reality it made her happy, that she just signed her contract and her teammates immediately accepted her into their group, by teasing her and being annoying. This team was incredibly tight knit, many people bleeding blaugrana (Alexia especially). They were a family, and even though she, as Lucy’s daughter, was kind of already a part of it, now as their teammate she could finally be its actual member.

After about a minute of the room being filled with their teammates voices and laughter, Alexia decided that it was enough of teasing for Ava’s first hour on the team.

“Ok idiotas! Leave the kid be and get back to work. Vamos!" When everybody seemed to return to their own devices, Alexia turned to the teen. "We’re happy you’re joining us Ava and if you ever need anything and want to talk to someone who isn’t your mother or her girlfriends, I’m always there.”

After that, the team got back to their workouts, Jona explaining to Ava what she was supposed to be doing, and leaving them to be looked at by the performance coaching team.

When halfway throughout the session, their phones started to blow up (mostly Lucy’s), they knew that Ava joining the team has been announced to the public, and the mayhem of speculation has started.

The post description stated:

fcbfemeni We’re happy to announce, finishing her B team contract, U-20 England Lioness Ava Bronze has signed a 2 year senior team contract! Welcome to the family!

“Just so you know” Lucy warned everyone. “We’re not saying anything about Ava’s relation to me. We decided it would be funny to let the fans make up their own theories.”

“Idiotes” muttered Alexia, but her face was showing nothing but amusement.

Mapi, who was standing next to her, the two doing their rehab exercises together, burst out laughing.

“I think you mean geniuses!” She got a glare from unimpressed Ingrid.

“I can’t wait to watch all of the theories on tiktok.” Stated Ava. “Or tumblr. That one’s crazy, cause most people there are more or less anonymous. Some of you wouldn’t survive there.” She laughed to herself, thinking about the fanfics and crazy posts she’s seen on there.

“You have to show me.” Stated Mapi.

“I wanna see that.” Jana joined the conversation. “Mapi, can we create a tumblr account for you?”

“Si” She turned to Ingrid, who was already rubbing her temples, with a big grin on her face. “The kids will teach me the internet.”

“You guys, back to work, you can talk when we finish.” Alexia went back to her captain self.

...

Three days after Ava’s signing was announced, before they started their evening movie, she was reading speculation posts on social media. She was going through a post comparing her and Lucy’s characteristics, when Keira looked over her shoulder. (Lucy and her girlfriends usually respected her privacy, but now, they became her annoying older teammates, so the privacy went out the window.)

“How are you feeling with all that social media attention? Did the fact that your private life isn’t so private, catch up to you yet?”

“Nice try.” The teen switched her phone off. “My mom is considered one of the hottest female football players, and most of my friends growing up were women’s football fans. Let’s just say that your friends swooning over your mother, is both hilarious and traumatising.” Keira jumped over the back of the couch and sat next to her girlfriend’s daughter.

“Can’t blame them for appreciating how hot she is.” Ava smacked Keira’s shoulder and the redhead pretended it hurt her. “Okay, okay!” she laughed “What was that post about? I saw your face.”

Ava unlocked her phone to show Keira the post she was reading. “Wow, they’re attentive. I’ve lived with you for like half of your life and didn’t notice that you have the same facial bone structure as her.”

“Most people assume I’m her cousin. Some had the right idea, but quickly disputed it, saying that there’s no way she had me at 15 and managed to go pro a year later. Some people even found some pictures of her with little me.” She scrolled a few posts down, where the post had a picture of the 2009 University of North Carolina soccer team, with little Ava on Tobin’s shoulders. “No idea how they found it and connected the dots that it’s me."

“Some of those people should work for the FBI.” Keira laughed.

“Who should work for the FBI?” Asked Lucy, coming out from the kitchen into the living area, with two cups of tea. Ona walked behind her, focused on not spilling the tea, from her own two cups, that were filled to the brim.

“Some of the fans found some pictures from your UNC days and connected the dots, that the little kid in them is Ava. They’re trying to figure out your connection and some of them are scarily good at it.” Keira explained while the teenager showed them the post on her phone as proof.

With her other hand, Ava took the big cup of tea, that Lucy handed her. She took a sip, gave her phone over to Keira, and stood up to take out their favourite cup coasters from the drawer in the coffee table.

Each of them had their specific coaster.

Keira’s coaster, had a picture of Leah, that she took against her friend’s will. The England captain then gave her the coaster for Christmas, saying that it was so that she would think about her every time she drank tea at home.

Ona’s coaster had a Manchester United logo on it and she used it simply to annoy her girlfriends and Ava. When Ona moved to Barcelona, Lucy wrote “Is shit” below the club name. Still, at least she was sure no one in this household would ever use her coaster. She considered putting the United logo on other things she preferred to keep to herself and everyone kept stealing. Like her half a liter cup, that she drank tea from.

Lucy’s coaster was a part of a mother’s day gift she got from Ava. It had a picture of 18 year old Lucy, holding 3 year old Ava, thrown over her shoulder. A colourful Comic Sans writing said the classic “Best Mom Ever” in the middle. She had in made with her aunt Sophie’s help when she was 11, and Lucy never stopped using it since she got the gift.

Ava’s coaster had a quote from Avatar: The Last Airbender. It said “Sick of tea? That’s like being sick of breathing!” She had a matching tea cup, that had Uncle Iroh’s face on the other side. The teenager watched the show, from start to end, at least three times, so when she saw the set in a store, she couldn’t resist buying it.

Like always, it took them 15 minutes to decide on the film they would be watching. They settled on rewatching Ocean’s 8, since all of them loved it. The hot cast wasn’t discouraging either.

They situated themselves on the L shaped couch. Lucy and Ona sat next to each other, on the wider but shorter part of the lounge. Ava, laid across the longer part. Her head in Lucy’s lap, her legs on Keira’s knees.

It may have been a great movie, but Ava has seen it multiple times already, so despite Cate Blanchett in suits being on the screen, with her mom’s fingers running through her hair and Keira lazily drawing patterns of her bare legs, she was asleep halfway through it.

When she woke up, she was surprised to find herself in her own bed. It was like nothing changed since she was just 5 years old and Lucy would carry her to bed. She may have not known about the kisses that Lucy left on her forehead, as she tucked her 17 year old daughter, into her bed, but she felt a warm feeling in her chest and knew how much her mom cared about her.

...

Every new signing had to do a media video, to show herself to the fans. So a week after signing her contract, Ava had to come to the training facility an hour before practice started. The media team led her to a seat in front of some cameras, with the training field behind her back.

“So, we asked fans on social media, to leave questions for you.” One of the media people (Ava didn’t remember their name and was too embarrassed to admit it) started. “We chose some that we thought were most appropriate. That alright with you?” They checked, in case the teen wasn’t comfortable with answering questions on camera.

“I’m good.” She was given about ten cards with questions printed on them and smiled. “Vamos!” She laughed and the camera stared rolling.

“Hi! I’m Ava Bronze and this is fan questions!” She claimed in fluent Spanish, looking into the camera.

“First question is from Mila.” She read from the first card. “Hola Mila!” She looked back up at the camera and waved. Then, she looked back down and continued reading. “’What is your favourite food?’ I love that question, cause I love food. I love things like ice cream and oat cookies, but for food I’m actually allowed to eat more of than sweets, my favourite is probably one of the only meals I can actually cook by myself, which are shrimps, with lemon, chili and garlic. We usually eat it on special occasions with my mom. She cooked it for me when she found out I was offered a pro contract.”

“Next one is from Reyna. ‘Who’s your favourite football player and who did you idolise growing up?’ Well, since I’m a striker, my favourite player is Ewa Pajor. She’s incredible and I think she’s the most underrated player. I got to meet her at the previous champions league final and she was super nice, even though she was sad cause they lost. My dream is to one day learn the bicycle kick from her. As for the players I idolised growing up. Well, I’m one of the few people my age who mostly watched women’s football and not the men’s. Another striker, Ellen White was always someone I looked up to. I love Tobin Heath, she’s brilliant on the ball and her style of play is very similar to Barca’s tight spaces technique. I was never interested in defending, but I always admired Lucy Bronze.”

“Jake asks, ‘What are your hobbies outside of football?’. Well Jake, I have so many we could make a separate video about them.” She laughed, but the media team noted it for another time. “First of all, one of my biggest, and most known among friends and family is photography. I love capturing the worlds beauty, without changing anything, just showing it as it is. I love traveling, which is kind of connected with every other hobby. I love hiking, rock climbing, mountain biking and sailing. Also, I listen to music all the time and love going to concerts. All of those hobbies include travel, so does football, so that’s a good thing.” She was about to go to the next question, but looked up to add one thing. “Also, I saw the media team taking notes when I said we could make a video about my hobbies, so I’m sure you’ll be seeing more about them in the future.”

“The next question is from Anya. ‘What do you like about Barca and what’s your favourite club team?’ Well, I have two favourite club teams and one of them is Barca. My mom will kill me for saying that publicly, but my other favourite team is Arsenal. She’s not a fan of red English clubs, especially Manchester United and Arsenal. But I love both Barca and Arsenal for similar reasons. Both clubs have this culture of family in football. Like, both of the teams have players who would never leave their team. Their academies are strong and many players grow up to be culers or gunners. There’s this loyalty that other clubs often don’t have. Like, not only for players but also fans. With other clubs, people are often fans of the footballers that play for them and not as much of the club, but with those two, it’s about more than the football. At least that's my view, even though most clubs have their die hard fan community. It’s a whole culture of those clubs that people love and I think it’s admirable.” She took a deep breath and looked down at the badge on her shirt. “I’ve moved a lot in my childhood, so I never had the opportunity to grow up within one club, but there are people like Alexia and Leah Williamson, who bleed their club’s colours.”

Ava answered all of the questions given to her and as she was at the last one, she noticed a few of her teammates making funny faces at her, telling her that training was about to begin. She laughed at them and looked into the camera.

“I can see some of my teammates telling me to wrap this up. Thank you for the questions, they were all great and I can’t wait to see you all in the crowd soon!” The camera was cut and the media team thanked her and let her go with the other girls.

...

Unlike other girls coming up from the B team, Ava came into the first team in the middle of the season and wasn’t there to replace an injured player. The coaches decided to give her two weeks of getting used to playing with the first team in training before they named her on the game day players list. It's not like she had not ever played in the first team before, but it was her first time as officially the senior player.

Her first match was an away game against Sevilla. She started out on the bench, with her mom sitting next to her.

“Stop kicking the grass. You’ll leave a hole.” Lucy put a hand on her knee to stop it from bouncing nervously.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Ava said, but her mom knew it was just the stress talking and her daughter wasn’t actually feeling sick. “What if I trip over my own legs and embarass myself? It has happened before.”

“You’ll be fine. You’ve been doing great in training. Jona wouldn’t have put you on the team list if he didn’t think you were ready.” She smiled and waited for Ava to look at her. “We’ve talked about it. You’ll probably come on in the 75th or 80th minute for Pina. You’ll do what you do best and rock it out there. You’re my daughter, you’ll do great.” Ava laughed at her mother’s ego, but visibly relaxed.

Just like always, the team was doing great. Pina scored in the 18th minute and they went into halftime with a 1-0 lead over Sevilla.

Around the 70th minute, when Caro and Salma were coming in for Vicky and Esmee, Jona told Ava, Lucy, Patri and Bruna to start warming up. While they were running on the sidelines, three minutes after coming in, Caro scored a goal and they ran to celebrate with the rest of the bench. Not even two minutes later, Mario added her name to the scoreline.

The time for them to come on couldn’t come faster and at the same couldn’t come fast enough. As she lined up, Ava was starting to panic. She was lined up in front of Lucy and when the ref showed her number in green, she felt her mom kick her in the ass. “You’ll do great. Just go out there and have fun.”

With that, she hugged Claudia, who ran up to her to leave the field. As she entered the game, the whole stress disappeared. Everything went quiet. She had 10 minutes of game time left and she used it wholly.

It was the 89th minute, when Ava found herself at the good end of a beautiful pass from Patri. Without hesitation she took the ball down to her feet, weaved around the last defender and with all her might, kicked the ball into the top right corner. The goalkeeper tried to save it, flying as high as she could, but she just couldn’t get her fingers on the ball in time.

Before she could even register what happened, she was being lifted in the air by Patri and surrounded by all of her teammates. “That’s my kid!” Lucy’s voice came though the ringing in her ears. When she was put down on the ground, she felt Ona put an arm around her and tap her head. “That’s our wonder kid!” She kissed her on the cheek and ran off, back into her position.

Not much happened after her goal. It was the final minutes, so they just passed the ball between each other, waiting for the final whistle. When it final came, a big smile took over Ava’s face. It was like she was high. Scoring a goal in her first game for the first team, coming out on the field with her mom right behind her. Her mom’s girlfriends out there with them. She was surrounded by family and friends. She couldn’t believe how great it felt to be there.

...

It was an evening game, so they were staying at a hotel in Sevilla. They didn’t even get back to the hotel when Ava got an Instagram notification, that Lucy tagged her in a post. She decided not to look at it, until she was back in her room with Vicky. Her teammates had other plans. “Aww, how cute.” “Look at that little face.” “Ava, you were so cute as a kid, what happened?” Could be heard through the coach and she had to change plans and look at the post.

lucybronze How proud I am to be your mom. It feels like just yesterday I was becoming a teen mom, I look back a second later and you’re already scoring goals for Barcelona’s first team. Where did this time go? So proud of you my baby 🥳

The first picture showed a 2 year old Ava kicking a football into a tiny goal set up in Lucy’s parent’s garden. The next one came from an hour before, taken in the perfect moment, when the ball left her foot and was flying towards the goal. There were a few more pictures of Ava playing football through the years, but the first two were most the important.

Five minutes after Lucy uploaded the post, both Bronze women had to put their phones on do not disturb mode, cause they were constantly vibrating with notifications.

While laying in bed, ready to go to sleep that night, she looked back at her day. She was playing football and scoring goals for the team of her dreams at just 17 years old. She had her mom by her side. The team was wonderful. She grew up surrounded by football players and now, she was one of them. This was her dreams coming true.

[arc-misadventures]

Son-in-law Bonding

Jaune: So... Red Hood...?

Red Hood: Athena is just fine, Love.

Jaune: So, Athena... Why... Why did you invite me out here?

Athena: Why? Well, because I wanted to test your blade.

Jaune: My blade? You were testing my potential as a Huntsmen?

Athena: Yeah. Pyrrha is a hell of a Huntress-in-training, she'll probably become more famous than myself when she become a full blown, Huntress.

Athena: I've had lots of people both after myself, and my daughter, trying to use our fame, or the power of our family supposedly has. I've started filtering out all the trash to keep their slimy little hands off of myself, and my daughter.

Jaune: Oh, thank you.

Athena: 'THank you?' For what?

Jaune: For looking after, Pyrrha such as you did.

Athena: Oh... Well, I just love my family... After losing my sister, and her husband, Pyrrha is all that I have left... So I'm going to do whatever I can to protect her.

Jaune: I understand, if someone hurt my family... Well as the saying goes: 'Demons run when a good man goes to war.'

Athena: I have certainly made my fair shar of demons run. IT's quite fun watching them run! Several of the poor bastards pissed themselves when I went after them~!

Jaune: Pfft! Now that must have been a sight to see.

Athena: Yeah after I threw one out of my house... from the second story window. They finally back off. Mostly. None of those bastards are worth me, or my daughter.

Jaune: And, what about me; Am I worth anything?

Athena: ...

Athena: When my daughter first mentioned you, I thought you were another sweet talker trying to steal my girl away from me. But, you never even knew who she was when you two first met. And, even after you got to know her you just treated her as your friend. And, when you started dating you were more concerned about her well being instead of your own. I always hopped she would find a friend like you, even more so now since she found a lover like you. You're worth your weight in gold, Jaune. I am honoured, and proud to have my daughter date a man such as yourself.

Jaune: O-Oh... Thank you... That means a lot to hear. Thank you, Athena.

Athena: My pleasure love.

Jaune: But, how am I as a Huntsman?

Athena: Well, Pyrrha told me how you cheated your way into, Beacon Academy.

Jaune: Ahh yeah... that happened...

Athena: Pretty ballsy of you kid. I admire that! You are still a bit green, but I can see you become one hell of a, Huntsman one day!

Jaune: Oh, thank you, Athena! That mean's a lot to hear from my childhood hero

Athena: I'll happily give you some training if your interested?

Jaune: I would love that!

Athena: Alright! Now it's time for some fun!

Jaune: F-Fun?

Athena: Yeah, you think me testing your skills as a Huntsman-in-training was the only reason why I asked you out here?

Jaune: Well... Yeah?

Athena: Well you're wrong! I asked you out here, because I wanted to test you out. Only this time without, Pyrrha around.

Jaune: Another training bout?

Athena: Something like that...

'Click.'

Jaune: Uhh... what are you...?!

'Boing~!'

Jaune: ...?!

Athena: Alright, Jaune ready for me to test out your 'blade~?'

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Aura don't fail me now.

Athena: Haha~!

Athena: Bring it on, Love~!

///

Here's another one, @lar-mx

Question: I'm callings this pairing of, Red Hood, and Jaune: Yellowhood. Does that sound good?

Link to Art

[wingedhallows]

hey!!!!! i wanted to request something a little light and cute and fluffy. my request is abby attempting to do your makeup bc she claims it’s “so easy” bc she’s seen you do your makeup routine so many times. your writing is just so impeccable 🤌🤌🤌 and fucking amazing just make it your own and add your own little details if you’d like. but you for sure have to add a scene where abby is just so focused and concentrated on not messing up bc she also claims she’s a “perfectionist.”

— TOO CONFIDENT FOR HER OWN GOOD —

— ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ pairing : abby anderson x reader / 1.8k words — ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ plot: When Abby claims she can do makeup just as well as you—if not better—you decide to let her prove it. Confident as ever, she takes on the challenge… only to realize she might be in way over her head. What starts as a simple dare quickly spirals into a hilarious mess of streaky foundation, clumpy mascara, and one very questionable technique. But as the laughter fills the room, it becomes clear—this isn’t just about makeup. It’s about love, trust, and finding joy in the little moments, even when things go horribly wrong. — ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ authors note: hi! i had so much fun writing this! i hope it's what you asked for and that you like it. send me more requests, this was such fun :)

♡︎ navigation ♡︎

“What’s that for?” Abby nods toward the headband you’ve just slipped on, her brows raised in curiosity. There’s a knowing glint in your eyes as you catch her gaze, a small, teasing smile tugging at your lips. She’s far too confident for her own good.

“To keep my hair out of my face,” you reply, voice laced with amusement. The answer is obvious, but you can’t resist playing along.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I knew that,” she grumbles, and you can tell—just by the slight crease in her brow—that she’s a little embarrassed.

You settle onto the bed in front of her, your makeup spread out between you like an artist’s palette waiting to be used. The thing is, Abby had boldly claimed she could do your makeup just as well as you—if not better—because she had watched you do it sooo many times.

But you know your girlfriend. Abby is stubborn, maybe a little too self-assured at times, and you couldn’t resist challenging her. You dared her to put her skills to the test, and now here you are—your face bare, waiting to be transformed, while Abby sits across from you, staring down at the array of products as if they were some kind of ancient puzzle she suddenly regrets trying to solve.

“Just start with the base,” you encourage, trying to stifle a laugh. Your voice is light, teasing, but you can’t help the warmth in your tone.

She huffs, determined, even as uncertainty flickers in her eyes. She has no idea what she’s doing—but she won’t back down now.

And honestly, you wouldn’t want her to.

You point toward a beige bottle—foundation. “Start with that.”

You don’t offer any more guidance, and you know she won’t ask. Abby is far too proud to read the label, too stubborn to admit she has no idea what she’s doing.

She just nods, feigning confidence as she picks up the bottle. Then her hand hovers over the array of brushes, her fingers ghosting over them uncertainly. For the first time, her eyes flicker to yours, a silent question lingering there.

You bite back a smile and give her a small nod—yes, that’s the right brush. She grabs it, her expression shifting back to one of determination.

But then, to your horror, she squeezes a few drops of foundation directly onto the brush.

Your eyebrows lift slightly. The brush? Jesus…

But you don’t say a word. You just watch. Let her figure it out.

Abby leans in, one hand settling firmly on your thigh. She’d probably claim it’s for balance, but you know better. This is just an excuse to touch you—Abby never misses an opportunity.

You hold still as she begins dabbing the brush against your cheeks, stroking it over your skin in broad, uneven swipes. The pressure is uneven, the strokes unpolished, and you know it’s going to leave streaks.

But you don’t comment.

Not yet, at least.

You feel the brush glide over your cheeks, your chin, your nose—she’s covering all the necessary spots. Well, almost all. She’ll get my forehead too, right?

…Yeah, no.

She moves on, completely skipping over it, leaving your forehead a bare, foundation-less island in the middle of an otherwise blended sea. Great.

You catch the subtle twitch of her brow, a tiny crack in her overconfidence, as if a thought finally nudges its way into her head: This doesn’t look quite right.

You take a slow, deep breath. Good Lord, help us.

Abby sets the brush and foundation down, her expression hardening in concentration. You can practically see the gears turning in her head, grinding so hard you half expect steam to puff out of her ears.

You bite your lip, trying—really trying—not to laugh. But she catches the amusement dancing in your eyes and immediately shoots you a glare.

“Shut up,” she hisses, but there’s no real heat in her voice.

A soft chuckle slips past your lips. “I didn’t even say anything.”

She scowls, picking up the concealer bottle with newfound determination. “Yeah, well, I can practically hear you taunting me in here.” She taps her finger against your forehead pointedly.

That does it—you laugh, reaching up to tangle your fingers with hers. “I would never taunt you, my sweet, lovely girlfriend.”

She rolls her eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t get stuck.

Then, without hesitation, she dabs a little concealer under your eyes. You wait for her to grab the brush you always use for blending, but instead, she goes rogue.

With her fingers.

Her damn fingers.

You fight the urge to cringe as she smears the concealer across your skin, rubbing it in like she’s applying sunscreen at the beach.

At this point, you’re sure you’ll end up looking nothing short of a full-blown circus clown. But honestly? Watching Abby wrestle with makeup like it’s an enemy she refuses to lose to?

Totally worth it.

"Alright... the eye thing now," Abby mutters to herself, squinting at the array of makeup products like they might suddenly arrange themselves into a tutorial.

You cock an eyebrow, amused. "Eye thing—do you mean lashes, love?"

Her gaze flickers to yours, and instantly, her expression sours. It’s the same look she gives when she spots a spider and desperately needs you to deal with it.

"Absolutely not." She scoffs, shaking her head as she wipes her fingers on a makeup wipe—because, somehow, you're still processing the fact that she applied your concealer with her damn fingers.

"So... mascara?" you ask, tilting your head.

"Ah, yeah—mascara." She nods with confidence and reaches for a tube... except, it’s not mascara.

"Baby, that’s lash glue."

Her head snaps toward you, eyes widening, and a faint blush creeps over the apples of her cheeks. That’s what not reading labels gets her.

"I knew that," she huffs, clearly flustered. "I was just... checking." Her voice dips lower, as if embarrassment alone might make her invisible.

She hurriedly sets the lash glue down, this time taking a moment to actually read the labels before picking up the right tube. Small victories.

Abby unscrews the mascara, but as she leans in, she hesitates. In her head, this is a high-risk operation. One wrong move, and she’s convinced she’ll be the reason you go blind.

She exhales slowly, steadying herself, but her shoulders remain tense. Meanwhile, you simply smile at her, soft and encouraging, before tilting your chin up and looking at the ceiling—your silent way of saying, You got this, baby.

Abby swallows, carefully bringing the wand to your lashes, holding her breath as if that alone will keep her hands from shaking. She moves with the concentration of someone defusing a bomb, praying she won’t stab you in the eye.

And honestly? You’re praying too.

Somehow—miraculously—Abby manages to apply the mascara without stabbing you in the eye, and you silently thank every god who might be listening.

She sets the tube down with a sense of finality, then suddenly—

“All done.”

You blink. Slowly.

…All done?

You take a second to process this. No powder, no eyeliner, no blush—nothing but foundation (patchy), concealer (questionable), and mascara (a crime against lashes). You’re sure you look like a half-finished painting.

But then, you see it. The flicker of uncertainty in her expression. The way her confidence wavers just slightly before she schools her features. She knows.

She clears her throat, her gaze darting away from yours like she can avoid the inevitable.

“I… guess you were right,” she admits, her voice quieter, tinged with reluctant defeat.

Your chest tightens a little because, honestly? Seeing her like this—actually admitting she might not be great at something—is worse than whatever mess is currently on your face.

“I did a shitty job.” She exhales, brushing a few stray hairs from her face, her throat bobbing as she swallows.

You offer her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

Then, before she can react, you get to your feet and move toward the vanity.

Instant regret.

Her body tenses, alarm flashing in her eyes. No, no, no—abort mission! But before she can launch herself across the room and physically stop you, before she can wrap her arms around your waist and haul you away from the mirror—

It’s too late.

You’re already staring at your reflection.

And oh. Oh, God.

Abby stands slightly behind you, her heart pounding so hard she swears it might just leap straight out of her chest.

Your foundation? Streaky. The concealer? Blotchy, with distinct smudges where her fingertips had worked it in like a moisturizer. The mascara? So thick and clumpy it looks like it’s actively plotting your downfall.

And the worst part? The tiny smudges in the corners of your eyes, where the mascara shouldn’t be.

It’s bad.

It’s really bad.

You meet Abby’s gaze in the mirror. She looks… devastated.

And despite everything, despite looking like a sleep-deprived ghost, you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“I… umh… it’s not that bad.” You try—really try—not to laugh.

Abby stands behind you like a statue, her expression frozen somewhere between dread and sheer embarrassment. You can feel her panic radiating off her, but the moment your eyes flicker back to your reflection, the sheer horror of it nearly sends you over the edge.

The foundation is streaky, the concealer is uneven, and the mascara—dear God—is clumpy enough to make you look like you just survived a hurricane. You press your lips together, struggling, desperately trying to hold it in.

Then—

“It’s horrible,” Abby mutters, voice thick with shame.

And that’s it. That’s what breaks the dam.

Laughter bursts out of you, sharp and sudden, your body doubling over as you grip the vanity for support. It’s not even just a giggle—it’s full-blown, stomach-clenching, can’t-breathe laughter.

Abby watches you, stiff at first, but then—when she realizes you’re not laughing at her, but at yourself, at the ridiculousness of it all—her embarrassment melts away.

She cracks.

Then she cackles.

And suddenly, the two of you are howling like a couple of grandmas at bingo night, gasping for air between fits of laughter.

“I look like a damn ghost!” you wheeze between gasps, gesturing wildly at your reflection.

Abby’s laughing so hard she has to clutch her stomach, her whole body shaking as she bends over like some dad at a backyard barbecue. “I tried my best!” she chokes out, her voice barely holding together.

It takes a solid minute before the laughter dies down, leaving both of you breathless. You brace yourself against the vanity, wiping at your eyes as you finally catch your breath.

“If you ever claim to be better at my stuff again, I swear I’m kicking your ass,” you say, grinning at her through the mirror. The sheer sight of your disaster of a face has Abby giggling all over again.

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes as she heads back toward the bed—

But not before landing a solid smack to your ass.

The sharp slap echoes through the room, and you yelp, whipping around with wide eyes.

Abby just smirks. “That’s for laughing at me.”

The mischievous smirk she throws over her shoulder is all you see before she flops onto the mattress, absolutely pleased with herself.

[tyrannosaurus-trainwreck]

Early Supernatural Sam Winchester.

Dean's over-performance of masculinity is a cover for being bi and the result of somehow never being manly enough to Make Dad Proud™. Sam's performance of masculinity is the result of desperate button-mashing, like if someone slapped that Ratatouille rat into a jaeger and told him to go fricassée god.

Dean's meltdowns are usually because too much was asked of him too young, and his stunted sense of being held to an unfairly high standard to which he can still never articulate an objection. Sam's meltdowns have the distinct flavor of someone who made the mistake of wearing a red shirt and khakis to Target, is being berated by a customer for not being able to unlock merchandise for them, and still hasn't realized why this is happening.

There's also a lot of interpersonal awkwardness that probably started life as a "deeply traumatized homeschooler" note from the showrunner but very easily turns into not having the words for "deeply excited to make out with this hot chick, but not in a guy kind of way" or "deeply ambivalent about positive feedback for accidentally performing masculinity correctly."

There's an episode where Sam has to get like thirty minutes of therapy in return for intel about a haunting. The last thing the audience sees is some variant on "Let's talk about your brother," and then you see Sam stagger out looking like it was pure torture.

Is thirty minutes long enough to slam into "I love him, and he's a good brother, but he's always on my ass to nut up and bro down and be a man, even when it's just the two of us. And for what? Nobody likes being a fucking guy! Being a guy fucking sucks! Nobody would be a guy if they didn't have to be a guy!"? Is that stunned-mullet look because the therapist gently told him that, food for thought, most men do in fact like being men?

There's also an episode where Sam gets called Travis Bickle in a skirt, which is otherwise a completely inexplicable insult. But if every nascent "what if?" gets smothered by a look in the mirror at a jacked six-foot frame and the scars from a kill-or-be-killed life and the feeling that well, it's not like anyone's ever going to see you as anything else, is it?, that's a pretty sick burn.

If you believe 'who you are' is incompatible with 'what you do,' and you tried running away and doing something else when it got to be too much, and all that did was make everyone you loved before stop talking to you and get the new love of your life killed, then it's 'who you are' that has to go, isn't it?

If you see this post you’re legally required to tell me at least one trans woman headcanons you have for a canonically male character, I never get to see transfem headcanons like that, give me them, and for equality of my own please know estrogen could have saved Insector Haga and Dinosaur Ryuzaki I will not elaborate, also Yuya.

[inseobts]

Midnight Snack

luffy x gn!reader

he gets hungry at night so you both go steal some snacks

words count: 1.2k

tags: fluffy, sfw, soft, gender neutral

masterlist || ko-fi

The gentle sway of the ship rocked you awake. It's the middle of the night, and the sky above is studded with thousands of stars. The moonlight filters in through the window, casting a soft glow on the room you share with Luffy. The air is cool, but your body is warm under the blanket.

But there's something you didn't anticipate... Luffy’s stomach grumbling loudly.

You turn to your side, blinking through the darkness. Luffy is sprawled out next to you, his back against the pillow, but he's restless. You can feel him shifting beside you, his body twitching. Then, another loud growl.

“Luffy” you whisper, nudging him “You’re awake, aren’t you?”

Luffy’s eyes flutter open, squinting as he stares at you, his face lit by the soft glow of the moon. He lets out a long yawn, stretching his arms above his head before blinking at you, clearly still groggy.

“Hungry,” he mumbles, rubbing his belly dramatically, as if the sheer force of his grumbling stomach could somehow shake the walls. “Really, really hungry.”

You groan softly, your mind still trying to wake up “It’s the middle of the night, Luffy.”

“So?” He grins, as if the time of day, or night, rather, means nothing when it comes to food “I want a snack.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes “What kind of snack are we talking about? We’ve already gone through the whole kitchen twice this week. Sanji’s gonna murder us if we do it again.”

Luffy grins even wider, turning toward you with an almost childlike gleam in his eyes “That’s the fun part! We won’t wake him up. We’ll sneak a snack!”

You blink at him, unable to stop a small laugh from escaping “You really are impossible.”

“Well, you love me for it” Luffy says, his voice a little too proud as he bounces up in bed. He pats his lap with a mischievous look “Come on, let’s find the perfect snack!”

You rub your eyes, reluctantly sitting up “What kind of midnight snack is perfect, anyway?”

Luffy shrugs, still grinning “One that makes me feel full, and one that makes my stomach stop growling.”

That… was probably as good of an answer as you were going to get from him.

You smile, rolling your eyes fondly at him “Alright, alright. I’ll go with you, but this better be quick. We need to get back before the others wake up.”

Luffy stands up, his enthusiasm now fully evident, and pulls you by the hand “We’ll be fast! C’mon, I know just the place!”

The night air hits you as soon as you step outside, cold but fresh, and the ship is unusually still, the soft sound of the waves lapping against the hull making the night seem peaceful. You follow Luffy down the stairs, both of you trying to be as quiet as possible, though that’s easier said than done when Luffy’s practically bounding from step to step.

“Shh!” You whisper, grabbing his arm to slow him down “We need to be quiet. We’re sneaking, remember?”

Luffy shrugs, his grin never faltering “I’m always quiet when I want to be!”

You can’t argue with that logic, so you simply shake your head and follow him to the kitchen.

As you reach the door, Luffy quickly pushes it open, but you stop him just before entering “Wait. Remember, no ingredients! Not unless we want Sanji to skin us alive.”

Luffy pouts “Aww, but meat…”

“We’re not eating Sanji’s food!” you whisper harshly, but then your mind clicks “Maybe there’s something else we can find.”

Luffy tilts his head, looking at you like you just suggested you go on a treasure hunt “Like what?”

You scan the kitchen, trying to think quickly “Uh… fruits! There might be something hidden away.”

Luffy’s eyes light up “Fruits! Yeah! Let’s find the best fruit!”

You both start rummaging through the small storage area, chuckling to yourselves as you dig through crates of apples, bananas, and even the occasional coconut. But nothing seems to satisfy your cravings.

“Wait, what’s that?” Luffy suddenly exclaims, his eyes locking onto something in the far corner of the kitchen. He runs over to the shelf and pulls out a small jar “Aha! Pudding!”

You stare at the jar in his hands “Luffy, that’s a jar of pudding.”

“Perfect snack!” Luffy says proudly, popping the lid off and sniffing it. He then dips his finger in and takes a big lick “Mmmm! Delicious!”

You stare at him, blinking “You’re eating pudding straight from the jar with your finger?”

Luffy shrugs, totally unfazed “Why not? It’s good! Wanna try some?”

Before you can protest, he sticks his finger in the jar and brings it toward your mouth.

“Luffy!” you laugh, swatting his hand away, though you’re unable to suppress your smile.

“Oh come on, just a little bit!” He gives you his best pouty face, the one that always gets to you.

You roll your eyes but can’t help yourself as you lean forward, letting him feed you a small scoop of pudding from the jar. You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“See?” Luffy says triumphantly “I knew you’d love it!”

You wipe your mouth, laughing “I swear, you’ll eat anything, won’t you?”

“Anything that’s yummy” he replies with a cheeky grin.

You chuckle again, and then, for a moment, the two of you just look at each other, the jar of pudding forgotten between you. It’s so simple, sitting together in the kitchen, in the middle of the night, just enjoying each other’s company.

“I’m glad we’re doing this” you say softly, leaning against him.

Luffy grins wide, putting his arm around your shoulder “Of course! There’s no one else I’d rather sneak snacks with.”

You smile, feeling your heart flutter a little at the sweetness of his words.

“Well, as long as we don’t wake anyone up” you say, raising an eyebrow.

He pulls you closer, a wide, mischievous grin on his face “Well… maybe we should wake them up. I can always go for more pudding.”

You laugh, shaking your head “You really are impossible.”

But as Luffy leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, you realize that, impossible or not, this was the kind of adventure you loved. Even if it involved sneaking around in the middle of the night for a perfect snack.

[mylovesstuffs]

Objection, Your Honor ! – Lee Chan

Genre: Non-idol au, legal au, detective-prosecutor au, workplace romance and enemies to lovers

Pairing: Dino × fem!reader

Content: Office romance, crime-solving duo/trio, tension, banter, flawed characters, detective/prosecutor dynamic, explicit sexual content MDNI! strong language, intense arguments, suggestive comments, making out, lotssss of kissing, Dino is cocky, reader loses her patience 99% of the time

Word count: 8657 words

A/N: Had to add the word razor every chance I got, lol. I expanded this picture of him with ai since it didn’t fit before. I changed his hair strands, skin, and stuff—and even his eye lenses myself meticulously (not ai). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and please reblog :( and happiest birthday to our Dino! He’s amazing just the way he is—so full of energy, talent, and charm that he never fails to inspire us all. I hope this year brings him nothing but happiness, success, and moments where he feels truly proud of everything he’s accomplished. He’s one of a kind, and the world is brighter because of him. I’m still waiting for him to give me a chance, though...

The slam of the file against your desk was so loud it nearly toppled your coffee mug. You flinched but didn’t look up immediately. No, acknowledging theatrics only fed the beast. Instead, you calmly capped your pen, setting it down with deliberate precision. He hated when you did this—acted like you had all the time in the world when he came storming in.

“You’re welcome for the heart attack,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You exhaled slowly through your nose before finally glancing up. There he was, Detective Lee Chan—better known as Dino, the human embodiment of caffeine and stupidity. His tie was undone, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he had that same infuriating smirk plastered on his face, as if he’d just solved the mystery of the universe.

“Detective,” you said with a polite nod, lacing your voice with as much fake sweetness as you could muster. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this… unexpected visit?”

“I brought you a gift,” he said, sliding the file closer to you. “A slam-dunk case. You’ll love it. All the evidence is right there. Can’t miss.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Last time you said that, I spent three weeks untangling jurisdiction issues. Do you even know how many late nights I had to pull because of you?”

Dino wasn’t actually an idiot no matter how many reckless decisions he makes. His instincts were razor-sharp, his record impeccable, and annoyingly enough he was usually right when it mattered. Last month, for example, his so-called ‘gut feeling’ about a drug ring being connected to a string of convenience store robberies was spot-on. His lead cracked open a case that had stumped everyone else for months. But damn if his delivery didn’t make you want to strangle him sometimes.

Dino, unbothered by your skepticism. “Yeah, but we nailed that drug ring, didn’t we?”

You hated when he was right and he knew it. “Fine,” you muttered, pulling the top file toward you and flipping it open. A mid-level burglary case, nothing too flashy at first glance. But as you skimmed through his notes, it was tight, methodical, and annoyingly thorough—you spotted the potential for something bigger.

“This better not be a ‘just trust me’ situation,” you said, glancing up at him. “If I’m staying late over this, it better pay off.”

He grinned, pushing off the desk. “Relax, Prosecutor. You know I don’t miss. This one’s airtight.”

And the thing that frustrated you most was that, you knew he was probably right. Dino didn’t swing unless he knew he’d hit the target. But it didn’t mean you had to let him bask in the glory without making him sweat first.

Now you opened the next file flipping through the pages. But this time the further you read, the deeper the pit in your stomach grew. And not in a good way. This wasn’t a slam dunk. It wasn’t even a half-hearted layup.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, shaking your head as you thumbed through the mess of paperwork. “You interrogated the suspect without a lawyer present?”

He shrugged. “He didn’t ask for one.”

You gave him an exasperated look. “You didn’t inform him of his rights properly, did you?”

“Details, details.”

“And this eyewitness? The one who conveniently claims they saw the suspect fleeing the scene? They’re twelve, Dino. Twelve.”

“Kids are observant!” he protested.

“They’re also notoriously unreliable in court. Oh, and let’s not forget this,” you said, holding up a grainy surveillance photo that looked like it had been taken with a potato. “Is this your so-called smoking gun? Because it could literally be anyone.”

Dino, arms crossed, looking far too relaxed for someone who had just presented you with a flaming dumpster fire disguised as a case. “You’re missing the point.”

“Am I?”

“Yes!” He sat up, his chair scraping against the floor. “The point is, this guy is guilty. I know it. You know it. Hell, even he knows it. Why are you so hung up on the technicalities?”

“Technicalities?” you repeated, your voice rising despite your best efforts. “You mean the law? The thing we’re both supposedly here to uphold?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, spare me the lecture. Do you even care about justice, or is paperwork your true love?”

Your jaw tightened. “Do you even care about rules, or is your brain just made of air?”

The words hung in the air like smoke after a gunshot. For a minute, neither of you spoke, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

There was a reason the firm always paired you with Dino for the cases no one else could touch, the ones buried under decades of dust or tangled in enough red tape to suffocate an entire department. It wasn’t because you liked each other—oh, God, no. The mere sight of Dino’s cocky smirk had you fantasizing about slamming his face into your meticulously organized desk. And you were pretty sure your obsession with the rulebook made him consider hurling you off the nearest courthouse steps.

No, the firm didn’t stick you together because you worked well; they did it because you got results.

Dino was a wildcard in the courtroom. He was reckless in a way that somehow always paid off. He’d bend every rule in the book, dive headfirst into risks that no sane professional would take, and then, just when everyone thought he was about to crash and burn, he’d pull off a result so airtight it left no room for appeal. To him, the law wasn’t some sacred structure but a weapon to be wielded, a chessboard where his unpredictable moves kept everyone including you on edge. But then there was you: the polar opposite. Where Dino thrived on improvisation, you thrived on preparation. Every motion you filed was flawless. Every precedent cited, every objection raised, was calculated. You built cases brick by brick, layering facts, timelines, and evidence until there was no room for doubt. You didn’t gamble, didn’t deviate, didn’t take risks. You didn’t need to because your method was bulletproof.

So, of course, throwing the two of you together was a recipe for war. You didn’t just clash; you collided like two freight trains on a collision course. Dino would rush into a strategy meeting late, armed with some half-baked plan, reeking of coffee and audacity, while you’d already drafted three versions of the closing argument. You’d roll your eyes at his recklessness; he’d scoff at your obsession with boring technicalities. It wasn’t just your approaches that set you off, though. It was the way he got under your skin. Dino had this uncanny ability to needle you in just the right way. He’d make some offhand comment about your obsession with color-coded spreadsheets or the way you probably alphabetized your sock drawer and you’d feel your blood pressure skyrocket. But you weren’t innocent, either. You knew exactly how to press his buttons, whether it was calling his brilliant-but-illegal idea juvenile or quietly rephrasing his arguments in court to make them admissible without giving him credit. And yet as much as you hated each other, the firm couldn’t stop throwing you together. Those cases where everything was on the line, went to you and Dino. Why? Because for all the throat-slitting arguments, for all the nights you spent slamming doors and trading insults that could scorch earth, you delivered. Together.

It wasn’t pretty. Your fights were the stuff of office legend. Once, he stormed into your workspace at 2 a.m. after you’d rejected one of his leads as ‘inadmissible garbage.’ You’d stood toe-to-toe, voices raised to the point that security came by to check if someone was being assaulted. Another time, you’d shredded one of his witness strategies so thoroughly in a meeting that the room fell silent. Dino didn’t speak to you for three days after that which, honestly, was the most peaceful stretch of your career. But whenever you were on a case together, something just clicked. Dino’s instincts and risk-taking cracked open doors that no amount of careful planning ever could. Meanwhile, your meticulous follow-through turned his madcaps into something actionable. It was maddening, really. He’d drag you into situations so precarious they felt like career suicide, and you’d spend hours, sometimes days, pulling everything back from the brink. But in the end it always paid off.

Take the Serrano case, for example. A cold case involving a missing heiress, dismissed as a dead end by everyone else. Dino had dragged you into some dilapidated motel off the interstate to interrogate a retired cop. The guy’s statement wasn’t even admissible, and you told Dino as much, several times, in increasingly colorful language. But damned if Dino didn’t come away with a critical piece of information: the location of a long-abandoned storage locker. The locker led to evidence, which led to a confession, which led to a headline-making conviction. And as much as you hated to admit it, the case would’ve gone nowhere without his reckless brilliance. Of course, Dino never let you live it down. “You’re welcome,” he’d say, that shit-eating grin plastered across his face as if he hadn’t nearly given you an ulcer.

The truth was, you couldn’t stand Dino because you saw what made him dangerous: he was too smart for his own good. He didn’t play by the rules because he didn’t need to. He could charm his way out of trouble, think on his feet, and pull victories out of situations that should’ve been unwinnable. And that terrified you, because it made you question everything you believed about the law, about order, about the system you’d built your entire career on. And Dino couldn’t stand you because you represented everything he hated: authority, rigidity, rules. He thought you were too stuck in your ways to see the bigger picture, too concerned with ticking boxes to actually fight for justice. He saw your meticulousness as a cage, not a strength. You didn’t see eye to eye, you barely saw each other as human but when it came to the job, you were a fucking force of nature. And that’s what made working with Dino so antagonizing. Because for all the fights, all the late-night shouting matches, there was a small, annoying part of you that knew you wouldn’t want anyone else by your side in the trenches. You both respected each other. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but deep down, you knew Dino wasn’t just reckless; he was brilliant. And he knew you weren’t just a stickler for rules; you were a goddamn powerhouse in the courtroom.

So, the firm kept throwing you together, because when you weren’t busy trying to rip each other’s throats out, you were unstoppable. And that was the most infuriating part of all.

“I care about catching culprits,” Dino said finally, his voice quieter but no less intense. “That’s my job. And I’m damn good at it. So maybe you could try trusting me for once instead of nitpicking every little thing I do.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. There was something about the way he looked at you, equal parts frustration and something you didn’t want to name or maybe it was just you. “You think I don’t trust you?” your voice low. “This isn’t about trust, Dino. We need to do it the right way. Because if we don’t, the culprits walk. And that’s on you.”

He didn’t respond immediately, just held your gaze, his dark brown eyes searching yours. It was maddening, the way he could make you feel like the bad guy when he was the one who barged in here with his half-baked case and his cocky attitude.

Finally, he stepped, grabbing both files off your desk. “Fine,” he said, his tone clipped. “You want it done your way? Have it your way. But don’t come crying to me when this guy slips through your fingers.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in your office with nothing but the sound of your own ragged breathing and the faint smell of his cologne lingering in the air.

God, you hated him.

…Right?

Two

The crime scene smelled like damp concrete and stale cigarettes. The flickering fluorescent light overhead made the whole place feel like a bad noir film except the lead detective was a walking disaster, and you were too pissed off to even pretend to care about aesthetics.

You arrived late, thanks to traffic and Dino conveniently forgetting to send you the exact location until the last minute. When you finally pushed through the throng of officers, there he was, doing exactly what he wasn’t supposed to do.

“Are you kidding me?” you snapped as you stormed over, heels clicking sharply against the cracked pavement.

Dino was leaning against a graffiti-covered wall, arms crossed, smirking at the suspect he’d cornered—a wiry guy with a nervous tic and shifty eyes. The kind of guy whose lawyer would have a field day with this.

“Prosecutor,” Dino drawled, straightening up when he saw you. “Glad you could join us. You missed all the fun.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you bit out. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like?” he said, gesturing to the suspect, who looked like he wanted to melt into the wall. “I’m getting answers. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Your jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “You’re not supposed to be interrogating him yet! We don’t even have his lawyer present—”

Dino cut you off with a dismissive wave. “Relax. He waived his right to a lawyer.”

You turned to the suspect, your voice controlled but wanting to cut throats. “Did you actually waive your right, or did he pressure you into saying that?”

“I—uh—” the guy stammered, his eyes darting between you and Dino like he was watching a tennis match.

“Don’t answer that,” Dino interrupted, stepping in front of the suspect like some overprotective guard dog, which you kinda agree with since he is a dog. “You’re not his lawyer.”

“And you’re not a fucking prosecutor!” you almost shouted, stepping closer, practically nose-to-nose with him now. “Detective, do you have any idea how much you’ve jeopardized this case? This isn’t some TV cop drama where you can just rough someone up and hope it sticks!”

Dino’s smirk widened, which only made you angrier. “You’re so uptight, I’m surprised your shoes don’t file complaints against you.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who probably keeps a bail fund in his back pocket,” you sneered. “And for the record, I’m shocked you haven’t been arrested for stupidity yet.”

He laughed, low and irritatingly amused. “You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?”

You felt your face heat up, though whether it was from rage or the way his voice dipped just slightly on the word cute, you refused to analyze. “Don’t,” you warned, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t you dare try to turn this into one of your pathetic jokes. This is serious, Dino. You’ve completely screwed my angle for the prosecution!”

“And what angle would that be?” he shot back. “Letting this guy lawyer up and walk out the door before we can get anything useful? You’re too busy playing by the rules to actually win.”

“You think winning means cutting corners and breaking the law?”

“I think winning means putting culprits behind bars,” he said, his voice hard now. “But hey, maybe that’s just me. What do I know, right? I’m just the reckless idiot who actually works the streets.”

Oh, God, you hated him. And right now, you hated him even more for standing too close, for taking up too much space in the already suffocating air between you. Your heart pounded so loudly it drowned out reason, a deep, thrumming beat that you were sure he could hear. You prayed he couldn’t, but Dino always noticed things he wasn’t supposed to. It pressed against your skin, heated and unrelenting, until it felt like the walls might cave in from the sheer force of it. He didn’t move, of course. He never did. And you couldn’t decide if you wanted to step back to get some air or close the too-small space entirely, if only to finally shut him up. It was never just about the law with him, never just about his tendency to play fast and loose with the rules while you meticulously dotted every i and crossed every t.

You glared at him, the tension crackled between you like a live wire, sharp and dangerous. For a split second, you wondered what would happen if you closed the already too-small space between you.

Would he flinch? Would you?

His eyes darted to your mouth for the briefest of moments, a flicker, gone almost as soon as it happened. But it was enough. Your breath caught, and your stomach twisted in a way that had nothing to do with anger.

Fuck.

No. Absolutely not.

You took a deliberate step back, breaking whatever the hell that was. “We’re done here,” you said, your voice clipped. “And don’t even think about pulling this kind of shit again, or I swear to God—”

“Relax, babygirl,” he said, holding up his hands to mock. “I’ll play nice. Scout’s honor.”

“Like you were ever a Boy Scout,” you muttered, brushing past him. As you walked away, you felt his gaze linger on your back, heavy and unrelenting. It made your skin prickle in a way you hated.

-

The precinct’s parking lot was quiet except for the muffled sounds of traffic in the distance and the faint buzz of a streetlamp overhead. You had barely made it halfway to your car when you heard footsteps behind you, quick and purposeful.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Dino called out, his voice carrying easily through the still night air.

You stopped, gripping your bag tighter before turning around slowly, your expression set in stone. “What do you want now, Dino? Haven’t you ruined enough for one day?”

He strode up to you, hands in his pockets, that damn smirk plastered across his face like he had all the energy in the world to piss you off. “Just wanted to make sure you got home safe, Prosecutor. Wouldn’t want you tripping over your own self-righteousness in the dark.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt. “Touching. Truly. I’m overwhelmed by your chivalry, Detective”

“Yeah, well,” he said, stepping closer, “someone’s gotta look out for you. You’re too busy being uptight to notice when you’re walking into traffic.”

You glared at him, your pulse spiking as he invaded your space yet again. “Funny coming from the guy who bulldozes through cases like a goddamn wrecking ball. Do you ever stop to think, or is ‘consequences’ just not in your vocabulary?”

Dino smirked, his voice dropping to a cocky drawl. “You’re good at running your mouth. Maybe someone should put it to better use.”

The words hit you like a slap, heat rushing to your face before you could stop it. “Excuse me?” you snapped, stepping closer, practically daring him to repeat himself.

“You heard me,” he said, tilting his head, his eyes dark and glinting under the streetlight. “Look at you—so sure you’re in control. So convinced you’ve got everything figured out. But you’re just begging for someone to put you in your place.”

Your breath hitched, fury, sharper and hotter—coiling in your chest. “You think you’re that someone?” you hissed. “Please. You couldn’t handle me if you tried.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. “You think you can handle me?” He leaned in, close enough that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne, something woodsy and infuriatingly intoxicating. “You’re cute. I could bring you to your knees before you can even blink. And I’d love to see you there.”

The audacity of him, the sheer arrogance, sent a jolt of pure adrenaline through your veins. “You’re delusional,” you spat, shoving at his chest, though it felt more like swatting at a brick wall. “I wouldn’t kneel for you if my life depended on it.”

Dino grinned, sharp and predatory. “You talk a big game, but you’re all bark and no bite. Face it, you hate that you can’t control me.”

“I hate that you exist,” your voice shaking with anger.

The space between you crackling with an energy that was equal parts infuriating and magnetic. His eyes bored into yours, daring you to look away, to back down, but you refused to give him the satisfaction.

Finally, you stepped back, breaking the spell. Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of your chest. “Stay out of my cases, Dino. This is the last time I’m cleaning up your mess.”

He laughed, low and unrepentant. “Sure thing, babygirl. Whatever you say.”

You whirled around and marched to your car, your hands trembling as you unlocked the door. As you slid into the driver’s seat, you could see him pulling his middle finger up at you. That bastard was going to be the death of you.

Three

The morning was already too early, and you were fighting the urge to strangle the first person who dared speak to you. The courtroom smelled like the stale coffee that had long gone cold, and the air felt thick, like it was waiting for something to go wrong. You had a long day ahead, one that started with you walking into the courthouse, still wiping sleep out of your eyes trying to make sense of the case that had already given you a goddamn headache.

You reached your desk, scanning the papers in front of you, mentally prepping for the battle ahead you were about to step into. Not today though, today you were placing your trust in your colleague, Prosecutor Jeonghan.

"Morning, hotshot!" Seungkwan's voice cut through the haze, a little too chipper for the crack of dawn. Your bestie aka the only person who could somehow manage to brighten the darkest corners of a place like this. He grinned as he plopped into the chair next to you, tossing a coffee your way. "You ready to face the disaster that is Dino today?"

"Is anyone ever ready for that?" you muttered, rubbing your temples as you took a sip. "I don't even think I can handle his nasty face right now."

Seungkwan's eyes gleamed. "Oh, come on, you love it. You just won't admit it."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond. You both knew it wasn’t that simple, but for the sake of today, you weren’t going to unpack the mess that was your relationship with Dino. It had enough layers to rival an onion, and right now you didn’t have time to cry over the metaphorical scent.

"Alright, you two," Seungcheol, the chief officer assigned to the case and both of your close friend, chimed in with a grin as he entered, stretching his arms. "Get ready for some fireworks. Dino's already pissing off the defense lawyer out there. And honestly, Jeonghan looks proud."

Jeonghan was a menace, no doubt about it, but he was also a goddamn genius. He was the kind of prosecutor who could make you question your career choices every time you shared a courtroom. He wasn’t just a menace; he was a finely tuned madness wrapped in a tailored suit, armed with a smirk that said, I know something you don’t. And he probably did. If there was anyone you’d trust to handle something when you couldn’t or just flat-out refused—it was him. He had the kind of street smarts you couldn’t teach, an instinct for reading people that felt almost psychic at times. Jeonghan wasn’t loud or brash like Dino, but his calm, almost predatory confidence was just as hot. He wasn’t just clever, he was deviously resourceful. If evidence didn’t align perfectly, Jeonghan would find a way to weave it into a narrative that made the jury sit up straighter, lean in closer and eat out of his hand. He didn’t play dirty, not technically, but he’d push right up against the edge of what was permissible, flashing that gremlin smile like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Witnesses loved him, judges respected him, and opposing counsel fucking feared him. And rightly so. Jeonghan didn’t just know the law—he understood the game behind it. He could charm the pants off a room full of skeptics, make them see the story he wanted them to see, and by the time they realized what he’d done, the verdict was already sealed. It wasn’t just skill, it was an art form, and Jeonghan painted masterpieces every time he stepped into the courtroom.

Pairing him with Dino was like setting a match to gasoline. Dino’s reckless energy, combined with Jeonghan’s calculated cunning, created a dynamic so volatile it was a miracle the courthouse hadn’t burned down yet with their play. And of course they got results—high-profile convictions, airtight arguments but working anywhere near them felt like trying to wrangle wild animals while they smugly watched you struggle. Jeonghan was a brilliant menace.

Opposing counsel hated going up against you, Dino, and Jeonghan—a nightmare trio they couldn't outrun. And your firm adored the chaos you three brought to court because, no matter how unconventional the methods, you always delivered wins. You were the dream team they loved, and everyone else feared.

Of course, Dino was already making waves and teaming up with Jeonghan. But now it was only a matter of time before he turned this courtroom into his personal wrestling ring, but the last person he wanted to tangle with? You.

The doors to the courtroom slammed open with a force that could’ve been felt from a mile away. Dino walked in and right beside him was Jeonghan. You could already hear the sound of your blood pressure rising just by the sight of him. He had that look in his eyes, the one that meant he was about to do something ridiculous, something reckless, something that would make you regret ever agreeing to work with him in the first place.

"Morning, sunshine!" he called out as he passed by your table. “Hope you’re ready for this shitshow. You sure you don't want to be the one to put this case to bed?”

You shot him a look that could’ve frozen hell over, narrowing your eyes. "You're not gonna win this case, Dino. Not if charm’s the only thing you’re bringing to the table. Leave it to Jeonghan"

“Oh, don’t drag me into this,” Jeonghan chimed, “I’m just here to look good and clean up your messes later.”

“Careful," he smirked, leaning forward on the back of your chair, his breath hot against your ear. "I might actually win this case with my charm alone. He trusts me."

Jeonghan snorted. “I trust you to do one thing, Dino. Create chaos. Which is great for me, really. Makes me look even better when I swoop in and save the day.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you gritted your teeth. “Maybe if charm was evidence, you’d be a star witness. And Jeonghan, let’s not pretend you’re not just here for the applause."

Though the snide remark hung between you and Dino like smoke, thick and suffocating as he flashed that cocky grin of his, god, it was maddening how much you wanted to punch it off his face. But there was no time for that. You were in a courtroom, surrounded by a crowd of people who didn’t give two shits about your personal grudges. They were just waiting for the show to begin. And right now, the show was all about Dino and his charming ass.

The judge entered, and the room fell into a hush as the proceedings began adjusted to the presence of authority. But that didn’t stop the tension from simmering, especially at your table. Jeonghan handled the case with the precision of a surgeon. Every argument he made was razor-sharp, every point calculated to perfection. Watching him in action was like witnessing a masterclass in courtroom strategy. You felt a swell of pride, not that you’d ever admit it out loud, of course. Jeonghan didn’t need the ego boost. Then there was Dino. While Jeonghan worked the courtroom with elegance and finesse, Dino seemed hellbent on bulldozing his way through the defense with pure, unfiltered madness. Subtlety? Restraint? Professional decorum? Not Dino’s style. Instead, he was practically throwing barbed comments that bordered on outright insults. The poor defense counsel looked like they were ready to crawl under the table. And the judge was not having it. Dino had already earned himself two warnings within the first twenty minutes, and judging by the way the gavel slammed down after his latest stunt, he was this close to being thrown out. But did that stop him? Of course not. This was Dino we’re talking about—a man who seemed to thrive on walking the razor-thin line between brilliance and complete courtroom anarchy.

You sat back, arms crossed, watching the spectacle unfold. Jeonghan remained the picture of calm, seamlessly pivoting between making his case and finely cleaning up Dino’s messes, all while maintaining that smug composure. It was clear why you trusted Jeonghan to handle things when you weren’t in the mood or the mental space to deal with the circus. Unlike Dino, Jeonghan knew how to work a courtroom without turning it into a WWE match.

-

The courtroom cafeteria was unusually crowded today. You sat at the corner table, papers spread out in front of you, pretending to focus on work but really just avoiding small talk. The last thing you needed was to deal with someone interrupting your already thin patience.

That was, until Jeonghan slid into the seat across from you, his signature gremlin smile firmly in place. He looked too smug for someone who just wrapped up a grueling morning session in the courtroom. “What?” you asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in your tone.

“Relax, I’m here to bask in my own brilliance,” he replied, helping himself to the coffee you had been saving for yourself. You watched as he sipped it like he’d earned it, the audacity rolling off him in waves. The worst part was that he had earned it. Jeonghan was the only person in the firm who could win a case and steal your coffee in the same breath, and somehow, you wouldn’t want to slap him for it. Well, not entirely.

Just as you were about to retort, Seungcheol appeared, dropping a folder on the table with a thud. He looked like someone who had been wrangling a circus all day, because that's exactly what working with Dino felt like. “You’re welcome,” he said without preamble, flopping into the seat beside you. “I just spent the last hour keeping Dino from getting held in contempt.”

You snorted, finally peeling your eyes away from your notes. “That’s a full-time job.”

“He’s a trouble,” Seungcheol muttered, running a hand down his face. “And somehow, I’m the one who gets roped into damage control every time.”

Jeonghan leaned back, clearly amused. “Oh, please, as if you don't bully him enough.”

Before Seungcheol could argue, Dino appeared for the briefest moment, swaggering past your table. He shot you a grin that was one part arrogance, two parts trouble, and called out, “Don’t miss me too much!” as he disappeared into the crowd.

You didn’t even bother responding. Seungcheol groaned. “See? That’s what I’m dealing with.”

Jeonghan laughed softly, shaking his head before turning back to you. “Anyway, how’s your prep going? Or are you too busy glaring at Dino to focus?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving your notes into a folder. “Prep’s fine. Unlike some people, I don’t need to cause a spectacle to win.”

Jeonghan just grinned, and Seungcheol, despite his exhaustion, chuckled. The dynamic was exhausting but damn, did it work.

The case in front of you was messy, layered with too many moving parts. Fraud, bribery, and a corporate paper trail so convoluted it felt like the legal equivalent of untangling Christmas lights. But somehow, between you, Jeonghan, and, yes, even Dino, things were starting to click. Slowly. Painfully

Jeonghan had already pointed out the glaring inconsistency in the timelines. The CEO of the accused company had claimed to be in Beijing during a key transaction, but Jeonghan’s eye caught a discrepancy in a hotel invoice. The CEO had, in fact, checked out two days earlier than he’d testified, meaning he was likely back in the city, orchestrating the whole thing. It was the kind of detail that could unravel a defense if played correctly. You had pieced together a pattern in the financial documents. The bribes weren’t direct transfers, too obvious for someone this slick. But they were funneled through fake consulting fees paid to shell companies. Shell companies you’d traced back to one of the CEO’s close associates. And Dino, well, credit where it’s due, the guy was a bloodhound when it came to witnesses. He’d managed to corner a junior executive who had been ready to deny everything until Dino dropped a few too-specific details about her involvement. Turns out, she had been the one handling the encrypted emails. Dino had gotten her to crack, and now she was teetering on the edge of flipping. Honestly, his ability to charm, intimidate, and outmaneuver people in the same breath was too impressive.

Seungcheol leaned back, rubbing his temples as he reviewed the stack of papers in front of him. Even he had to admit it was a strong case, and Seungcheol rarely handed out compliments. “This might actually work,” he muttered, almost to himself.

You glanced at Jeonghan, who was already scribbling something onto a legal pad, his mind a thousand steps ahead as always. Across the room, Dino was on the phone, probably sweet-talking the junior exec into handing over more details.

Four

The precinct always smelled like stale coffee and paperwork—if paperwork had a smell, that is. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was home. Or, at least, the kind of home where you constantly wanted to throw someone through a window. And today that someone was Dino, like he wasn’t a full-grown ass man but a goddamn trouble magnet with a badge.

The day had already been a shitshow. Another interview, another suspect who thought they could outsmart the system or worse, you. And it didn’t help that Dino, of all people, had been in the room, throwing in his little side comments like he was auditioning for a buddy cop movie. By the time you stormed out of the interrogation room, you were one bad comment away from losing your badge and your mind.

You headed straight for the coffee machine, the ancient beast that churned out something vaguely resembling caffeine. The cups were paper-thin, the sugar was always clumped, and the cream, if you could call it that, came in those little pods that looked like they expired sometime in the 90s. But it was coffee, and you needed it.

God, you needed it.

Just as you finished pouring your first cup and reached for a sugar packet, he appeared. You didn’t even have to look. You felt him like a storm cloud rolling in, all smug energy and shitty cologne.

“Rough day?” Dino’s voice was way too cheery for someone who had spent the last two hours watching you get stonewalled by a suspect.

You didn’t even glance at him. “Fuck off, Lee.”

Dino laughed, that low, grating chuckle that made you want to slam the coffee pot over his head. “That’s no way to talk to a teammate.”

You turned to glare at him, your hands still gripping the coffee cup like it was the only thing keeping you from committing a crime. “Teammate? You sat there and let me handle the entire interview while you played with your pen like a goddamn child.”

“I was observing,” he said, slanting against the counter. His first two buttons were unbuttoned, his shirt slightly wrinkled, and yet he still managed to look very confident. “You had it under control, right?”

“I had nothing under control, thanks to you, Detective.” you snapped. “Next time, maybe try contributing instead of sitting there like a pretty little statue.”

“Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” Dino smirked, and you wanted to throw your coffee at him.

Before you could fire back, Sergeant Mingyu walked in, a towering figure with an easygoing grin. He took one look at the two of you and burst out laughing.

“Jesus Christ, you two are at it again?” Mingyu said, grabbing his own cup and shaking his head. “It’s like we're watching a rom-com, except way more violent.”

“There’s no ‘rom’ here,” you said through gritted teeth, narrowing your eyes at Dino. “Just an idiot who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for dangerous women.”

“Dangerous? The only thing dangerous here is you trying to do your job,” you about to fist up.

Mingyu nearly choked on his coffee, laughing so hard he had to set his cup down. “God, Dino, you’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But seriously, she’s gonna bite your head off one day.”

Dino shrugged, unbothered. “Eh, I can handle it.”

“You think you can handle it,” you muttered, turning back to the coffee machine to pour another cup.

Mingyu leaned closer, still grinning. “You know, watching you two is the best part of my day. You’re like fire and gasoline.”

“Yeah, well, one of us is about to get burned,” you said, shooting a pointed look at Dino.

That stupid smirk never leaving his face. “Alright, alright. I’ll back off. For now.”

“Good,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee and praying it would be enough to get you through the rest of the day.

Mingyu’s voice broke. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two actually like each other.”

You glared at him. “Drink your coffee, Sergeant, before I throw it at you.”

He just laughed, shaking his head as he walked away. And you just finished your coffee, trying to shake off the heat rising in your cheeks. It’s just caffeine, you told yourself. Definitely just the caffeine.

-

It was late. Too late. Everyone else had cleared out hours ago, leaving you with a mountain of work and the ghost of Detective Lee Chan's incompetence haunting your every move. You stared at the stack of reports in front of you, each one messier than the last. Half of them didn't even make sense. Who wrote "suspect maybe had a knife, or maybe it was a gun, unclear" in an official report? Oh, right-fucking Dino. If he spent half as much time actually doing his job as he did annoying the shit out of you, you might actually get some sleep tonight.

But no. Here you were. Alone. Stuck cleaning up others' mess like always.

The door opened, and you didn't even have to look up to know who it was. That air had a very distinct energy, and it was currently barreling toward you at full force.

"What the fuck, Prosecutor?" Dino's voice cut through the silence, relentless. "Why the hell haven't you signed off on the reports?"

You didn't bother looking up. "Maybe because they're a fucking disaster, Detective."

He stalked over to your desk, his presence looming, anger radiating off him in waves. You could feel it, hot and suffocating, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of looking rattled.

"They're fine,” he snapped, planting his hands on the edge of your desk and leaning in. His scent hit you, the lingering smoke of too much coffee. "You're the one holding up the case.”

You finally looked up, meeting his glare head-on. "Fine? Fine? Half of these reports read like they were written by a drunk toddler. Did you even try?"

Dino's jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he might actually explode. "You know what, Y/N? Fuck you. I've been busting my ass on this case while you sit here with your red pen, nitpicking every goddamn detail like it's a fucking college essay."

"Fuck me?" You shot out of your chair, slamming your hands on the desk as you leaned forward to meet him halfway. "Fuck you, Dino. Maybe if you spent less time playing the charming jackass and more time actually doing your job, I wouldn't have to clean up your mess."

His eyes narrowed, his mouth curling that only fueled your rage. "You love cleaning up my messes, admit it. Gives you something to bitch about."

"Oh, I hate you so much," you hissed.

"Not as much as I hate you," he shot back, his words a challenge, his tone daring you to push further.

You were too close. You could feel the heat radiating off him, see the way his chest rose and fell with each angry breath. Your heart was pounding, your blood boiling, and suddenly—

You kissed him.

It wasn't planned. It wasn't even conscious. One second, you were glaring at him, ready to rip him apart in chicken shreds, and the next, your lips were on his, hard and unforgiving. He froze for half a second before kissing you back just as fiercely, his hands flying up to grip your waist as if he'd been waiting for this moment all along.

"What the fuck are we doing?" Dino muttered against your mouth, his voice breathless but laced with that same infuriating cockiness.

"Shut up," you snapped, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer.

He kissed you harder, his teeth grazing your bottom lip in a way that made your stomach flip. "I'd rather kiss a cactus than deal with you, but here we are."

You pulled back just enough to glare at him. "You'd deserve the cactus."

"Yeah? Well, I'll shove that cactus down your throat if you keep talking," he shot back as his hands slid lower, gripping your hips like he never wanted to let go.

"Try it," you countered. "And I'll bury you six feet under."

"God, you're insufferable," he growled, but his lips were back on yours before you could respond, hot and demanding, his fingers digging into your sides.

The insults didn't stop. Neither did the kissing. It was a mess, angry, chaotic, and so satisfying. Every argument, every moment of pent-up frustration, every goddamn thing you hated about him poured into each kiss, each bite, each touch. And for once, Dino wasn't the only disaster in the room. But as your back hit the desk and his hands tangled in your hair, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

So this is what it feels like to lose your fucking mind.

You barely registered the edge of the desk digging into your lower back as Dino's lips worked against yours, rough and demanding. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your spine, tugging you closer like he couldn't stand even the fraction of space between you. And you were just as bad. Your fingers clawed at his hair, pulling hard enough to make him groan, a deep, guttural sound that sent a shiver down your spine. His groan vibrated against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. You pulled his hair harder this time, relishing in the pained sound he made. But it wasn't enough.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his breath hot. "You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?"

You didn't even hesitate. "Right back at you, Detective."

His laugh was low, dark, and entirely too cocky, but you didn't have time to bite back because his mouth was on your neck now, teeth grazing your skin in a way that had your knees threatening to give out. You hated him. You really did. But god, he was good at this. Too good.

"You're killing me," he moaned against your neck, his voice filled with desire. "The fuck kind of witchcraft are you doing right now, huh?" His lips moved up to your jawline, teeth nipping slightly.

"Is this what you do with all your coworkers?"

Dino pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. "Only the ones who drive me fucking insane."

You rolled your eyes, but it was hard to keep up the attitude when his hands slid under your blouse, his palms aggressive and warm against your skin. He kissed you again, slower this time, but no less intense. Like he was savoring the moment or maybe just savoring your complete and utter loss of control. Bastard.

"God, I can't believe I'm doing this with you,” you muttered, breaking the kiss long enough to catch your breath.

"Trust me, sweetheart," Dino said, his voice low and teasing as his thumb traced lazy circles against your clothed nipple. "The feeling's mutual."

You opened your mouth to retort, but whatever snarky comment you had died on your lips as he leaned in again, his hands tightening on your waist. There was something about the way he kissed you—messy, desperate, like he couldn't decide if he wanted to fight you or devour you whole.

The desk creaked beneath you as he pressed closer, his hips slotting between your legs like he belonged there. You could feel his hard cock through his pant, could hear the hitch in his breath when you tugged at his tie to pull him even closer and pressed yet another kiss. He moaned into the kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened it fervently. His hips rolled forward instinctively, grinding his hardness against you. The desk shifted under the force of his movement, scattered papers fluttering to the floor. Breaking the kiss abruptly, Dino's hands slid down to grip your hips, lifting you effortlessly onto the desk. He then again stepped between your spread thighs, intentionally pressing his clothed erection firmly against your core. He unbuttoned your shirt one-handed, pushing the material off your shoulders. His mouth dropped to capture one peaked nipple while his hands unzipped your pants slowly, pushing them down your hips along with your lace panties. He spread your thighs wider, settling between them. It was too much and not enough all at once.

"You're gonna regret this tomorrow," you said, your voice shaky but defiant as you pull him into another kiss.

Dino smirked, his lips swollen and pink, his eyes dark that made your stomach squirm. "Probably," he admitted, his fingers brushing against your clit, "But right now? I don't give a fuck."

The honesty in his voice caught you off guard, and for a second, all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumline. But then his lips were on yours again, and whatever rational thought you'd been holding onto was gone, swept away in the chaos that was Lee Chan.

And honestly? You didn't give a fuck either.

Five

The morning after was a mess. Not because the office was chaotic, although it was but because every time you looked up, Dino was there. And every time you looked at him, you remembered.

His hands on your waist. His lips on your neck. The way he smirked at you, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and it was driving you insane.

You hated him. You really did. Except, you didn’t.

He didn’t seem fazed at all. He waltzed into the precinct, throwing out cocky smirks and one-liners like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t been pressed against your desk, fucking, the night before, completely at his mercy. Bastard.

“Morning, Prosecutor,” he said, leaning against the edge of your desk in the common shared office with your colleagues, with that infuriating grin. His tie was slightly crooked, and his hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. You refused to notice how good he looked. Absolutely refused.

“Detective,” you replied not even looking up from your papers, your tone colder than the coffee you hadn’t had time to drink.

“Sleep well?”

Your pen snapped in half.

Seungkwan, strolled by at that exact moment, taking in the scene with a raised eyebrow. “Am I interrupting... something?” he asked, his tone dripping with implication.

“No,” you said quickly.

“Yes,” Dino said at the same time.

Seungkwan looked between the two of you like he was watching the world's most entertaining soap opera. “Right,” he said slowly. “Carry on, then.”

As soon as he was gone, you turned to Dino, your glare sharp enough to cut glass. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Just saying good morning. Is that a crime now?”

“Don’t push me,” you warned.

“Or what?” he countered, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “You’ll kiss me again?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, you saw it—the implication behind his smirk. But then it was gone, replaced by that same cocky grin, and you wanted to murder him all over again.

“Go to hell,” you muttered, shoving past him.

“See you there, sweetheart,” he called after you.

The tension only got worse as the day went on. Every time you crossed paths, it was like a live wire sparking between you. He’d brush past you in the hallway, his hand grazing your arm just enough to send a shiver down your spine. Or he’d lean over your shoulder to look at a file, his breath warm against your neck, and you’d have to fight the urge to deck him or kiss him.

By the time the case finally wrapped up that evening after three months of struggling, you were ready to explode. The courtroom had been a war zone, with the two of you throwing out arguments like grenades to the defense. But it worked. The case was a win, and you should’ve been celebrating.

Instead, you found yourself alone in your office, staring at the note on your desk.

File this under: cases where I was right (and you were hot).

You crumpled the paper in your hand, your jaw clenching, but a smile still crept through your cusses. Of course, he’d leave something like this. It was so... Dino. Cocky, smart, provoking, and always managing to get under your skin. Before you could even think about what you were doing, you stormed out of your office, the crumpled note still in your hand. You found him sitting in his office, scrolling through his phone like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Seriously?” you snapped, holding up the note.

He looked up, his grin immediate. “What? I thought it was cute.”

“Cute?” you repeated, your voice rising. “You think this is cute?”

“Admit it,” he said, now standing up and stepping closer. “You smiled when you read it.”

“I did not,” you lied, your pulse racing as he closed the distance between you.

“Liar,” he said softly, his voice teasing but his eyes deadly serious.

You didn’t know who moved first. Maybe it was him, maybe it was you. All you knew you were pressed against the wall, his lips crashing into yours.

It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was messy and desperate, all teeth and tongues. His hands gripped your waist like he was afraid you might pull away, and maybe you would’ve if you weren’t so darn tired of fighting this. Fighting him.

“Still hate me?” he asked against your lips, his voice breathless.

“So much,” you managed to say, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“Good,” he said, kissing you again. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the dynamic.”

And just like that, the war raged on.

The end.

[idrawprettyboys]

Advice for Aspiring Commissions Artists

I recently had someone ask for advice on how to sell art commissions, so I thought it would be nice to compile a list for others aspiring to do so, as well as to remind myself of some important things to keep in mind.

1. Have one tumblr blog strictly for art. People will follow it specifically because they like your art, and it will be easy for them to find your artwork without having to scroll through a jumble of other stuff.

2. Draw and post just about every day! Most people will say to draw every single day, but please let yourself rest. You will end up being miserable if you force yourself to draw when you aren’t feeling well. The more you draw, the more your art will improve, and the more followers you will naturally accumulate over time.

3. Post fan art to bring in fans. You don’t have to strictly draw fan art, of course. But people are more likely to interact if they’re familiar with the character already. A lot of people will follow you for fan art initially, and some of them will grow to love your original art as well.

4. Develop your own unique style. This will occur naturally over time. Learn from artists you love, and over time, your art will evolve into a mix of art styles you like into something uniquely yours!

5. It takes time to find supporters who are willing to spend money on your art. Building an art business is a slow process, and it takes patience and perseverance. Only a small percentage of social media followers will pay for commissions or Patreon support, but those few are precious.

6. Use every platform and website you can to share your art and have links between platforms, so your fans can find you in multiple places. Examples of places to share your art are social media sites like Twitter, Instagram, BlueSky, and Pillowfort, as well as art sites like Cara and Pixiv.

7. Get a Patreon and Ko-Fi account and be sure to provide links to these means of financial support on your art posts (especially the art pieces you’re proud of).

8. Make use of as many means of making money with art as you can. Sell prints on inprnt, sell stickers on Redbubble. Youtube videos can eventually give you ad revenue. If you make comics, Tapas is another option to make a little bit of ad revenue. You can use Etsy to sell originals, prints, or even commissions! Some people may feel more comfortable buying commissions through an official store like Etsy rather than on social media, so it’s good to have that as a back-up in addition to selling through other sites.

9. Use a secure payment method that you’re comfortable with! I recommend using PayPal with invoices, so that you have proof of their purchase in case anything goes wrong. A lot of artists use Ko-Fi as well.

10. Post your commission guidelines on all the sites where you post your art! Don’t be afraid to reblog/repost your commission price list multiple times!

11. Art commissions are not a steady job. You might get nonstop commissions for a couple months and then not get any for a few months. There are some times of year when people are less willing to spend money. I’ve noticed this happening towards the end of the year. At times when you aren’t getting commissions, I recommend doing a limited time sale!

12. Price yourself appropriately for the amount of effort it takes for you to get the work done! Don’t overprice or underprice! Ask your friends for advice on what you should charge. You’ll probably want to start low and slowly increase your prices as your work gets higher demand.

13. Make your commission price list legible! Check out other people’s sheets for guidance!

14. Have patience and perseverance! It may take years after you start posting before you get a commission, but the more you put yourself out there, the more you’ll get noticed!

15. Draw what you enjoy! Maybe cater to your audience once in a while, but your own happiness is important to give yourself the drive to keep on going!

16. Don’t be afraid to reblog your own art at various times of day, for maximum visibility! Not all of your followers will be online at the time that you initially posted it.

@artist-kreating-stuff

[blakeswritingimagines]

Kink List With Quinn Hughes

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

For Quinn, this often involves spending some time together, cuddling on the couch and chatting about what they just experienced. He may also offer physical gestures of affection, such as taking a warm bath together or giving each other massages. Overall, he is a very attentive and responsive partner who always takes the time to check in with his partners and make sure you are feeling good.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For Quinn, is very proud of his strong and muscular body, and loves to spend time in the gym working out and training. His favorite part of his body is his thighs

His favourite body part of his partner is definitely your hips, as he finds them incredibly attractive.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

His favorite ways is either deep inside of you or on your chest or abdomen since It also creates a lasting visual reminder of your lovemaking.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Quinn would have to say his favorite dirty secret is how much he loves being in control. He is a very dominant partner in the bedroom, but he doesn't always feel comfortable talking about it without the right audience. He is worried about coming across as too aggressive or making his partner feel uncomfortable, so he tends to keep that side of him on the down low.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Quinn has been in a few different relationships before, so he wouldn't be considered a "complete" novice. He's definitely learned a thing or two about what he's doing and has a pretty good idea of what to expect, but he is always willing to listen to feedback from his partner and ask questions if he is unsure about something. He may come off a bit too confident at first, but really he's just trying to put you at ease and make sure everyone is having a good time.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Quinn's favorite position is probably one where he has a lot of control, so something like missionary with your legs over his shoulders or cowgirl. He loves being able to see the different expressions on your face as things progress, and it's really hot to have your body so up close.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Quinn is definitely more on the serious side of things, but he will also throw in some light banter to help make the mood a bit lighter. He may crack a few jokes and make some silly faces, but he's not one to totally drop the seriousness of the moment. He thinks there's a time and a place for humor in a relationship, and the bedroom definitely isn't the right place for it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Quinn keeps himself very well groomed and trimmed. He definitely does his best to keep up with any body hair he grows, especially in places where his partners may want to touch. He definitely keeps his carpet and drapes matching, as he believes it is an important aspect of overall hygiene. He is definitely not a fan of having a full on forest down there, so he makes sure to keep things nice and tidy.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

During the moment itself, Quinn is definitely on the romantic side of things. He likes to take his time and really take the time to express how much he's enjoying himself. He might hold you close to his chest as he whispers little compliments in your ear, or give you a little kiss on the forehead or cheek every so often. He wants you to feel like there is nothing more important to him than being intimate with you at that moment.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

It's something that's definitely not talked about very much, but Quinn absolutely enjoys a little solo time every once in a while. He doesn't make a big deal out of it, it's more of a private indulgence for him. He doesn't have any specific techniques that he likes, it's more of a spontaneous thing that he's just in the mood do some days.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Bondage

Impact Play

Spanking

Marking

Praise, both ways

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Quinn would have to say his favorite location to do the deed is somewhere private, preferably his own place. He likes to have a little bit of privacy and not have to worry about anyone interrupting or walking in on you both. He usually likes to set the mood and get comfortable on the bed or couch, somewhere he can relax with his partner without any worries.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Quinn is pretty much up for anything, so it's hard to say exactly what turns him on in the moment. However, he always gets a bit excited when you are vocal and responsive, he loves to hear the things you like and how you feel in his arms. He also loves when you initiate things yourself, it makes him feel like you're really into it and not just going along with what he's doing.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There's not one thing that Quinn would really be opposed to doing, he's pretty much open to anything. However, there are a few things that he does like to avoid. He's definitely not a fan of doing anything that's too rough or aggressive, he doesn't want to hurt you in any serious way. He also doesn't really like things that are loud or messy, he likes things to be simple and intimate. Other than that, he doesn't really have any strict no's.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Quinn is definitely more on the giving side, he loves to take his time and make sure that you're feeling good. He's got a pretty good skill level too, he knows exactly how to use his tongue and how to get you all worked up. He might not be the best in the world, but he definitely puts in the effort to make sure that you're feeling absolutely ecstatic.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Quinn likes to mix things up depending on the moment. Sometimes he'll go pretty rough and fast, others he'll take it slower and enjoy all the little details of being intimate with you. Overall, he wouldn't say he has a set pace or a set style that he always sticks to, he just likes to go with the flow and do what feels right.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Quinn is definitely all for quickies, sometimes a little "quick action" is exactly what the situation calls for. He doesn't see it as an either/or choice, he sees it as an option that's sometimes just exactly what's needed. He definitely prefers regular, longer sessions, but he won't say no to a shorter one if that's what the moment calls for. He doesn't mind either way, as long as he's getting a bit of action in, he's happy.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Quinn loves to try new things and take risks, he's not one to do things the same way over and over again. He always likes to keep things spicy and exciting, and he wouldn't mind trying something out in a place or situation that's a bit different than usual. He's not afraid to take a risk if it means that things will be extra exciting and feel a little more risque for the both of you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Quinn is definitely pretty high energy when it comes to things like this, he's not one to slow down easily. He can definitely go a few rounds without getting tired or needing a break, and he's got a pretty high stamina so he'll keep going for quite a while. He'll only stop when he feels like you are also getting worn out, he doesn't want to push it too far.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Quinn's definitely got a few toys that he likes to use when the mood strikes. He doesn't use them all the time, it depends on what he's feeling like, but he does enjoy the occasional toy session. He doesn't mind using them on himself, or on a partner, or maybe even a little bit of both together.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Quinn definitely loves to tease, he gets a real kick out of getting you all worked up and then not following up with anything. He likes to make you want more, to get your brain all foggy with desire, but then he stops before giving you what you really need. It's a form of torture he really gets off on.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He has a tendency to make a pretty nice mess of sounds, ranging from soft grunts and moans to louder, more guttural sounds. He's not necessarily super loud, he's not a screamer, but he definitely doesn't hold back and make sure you hear what's going on.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Quinn actually has a bit of an exhibitionist streak. He loves the idea of doing something intimate and passionate in a public place, maybe somewhere hidden but where there's always the risk of getting caught. He gets a rush from just the thought of having something so intimate and forbidden in a place where people could walk by at any moment.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

It's about seven inches long. The shaft is fairly thick, not too skinny but not overly bulky either. There's a bit of a curve to it, making it stand out a little when hard. The head is quite pronounced, almost like a mushroom cap, and there's a small slit right in the center that glistens whenever he's excited.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He's got a pretty healthy and active libido, and he definitely needs a bit of a release every now and then. He'll often get a bit restless and antsy if he doesn't have a good way to take care of himself, and he'll definitely start to look for a little bit of action from time to time.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He usually feels pretty satisfied after a good session, and he can definitely fall asleep pretty quickly afterwards. He'll wrap his arms or legs around you, pull you closer to his chest, and just doze off after a good bit of physical activity.

[ssparksflyy]

jason grace dating headcanons ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

pairing jason grace x daughter of hera!reader warnings none i think this ones pretty much all fluff unless your uncomfortable with marriage and children lol an i have a whole yap on how i think children of hera are created here if u wanna check it out cause im quite proud of it ꈍ◡ꈍ , requested !!

alexa play so high school by taylor swift pretty pls ‹𝟹

my bad just had to set the mood before i talked about THE CUTEST COUPLE EVERRRRRR

jason dating a daughter of hera would just be so like cliche classic romance that everybody longs for

a timeless love if you will

youd think that your parents arguments and bickers would have some sort of effect on your relationship but you just dont care LMFAO

well i mean like your relationship with your mother is probably pretty good and stable (you know, for a relationship with a greek god) and i truly do think that hera would be caring torwards her demigod children cause those are her kids and they dont have a stinky man for a father

but your parents really dont have much of an effect on your lives because your relationship is something you developed and worked on together, and it has nothing to do with them

you first met jason when he crash landed on the shore of chb with piper and leo, but didnt really speak to him at first

but he DEFINITELY wished you did

cause the second the crowd swarmed him and he locked eyes with you, oh boy

SMITTEN

actually standing there with his mouth open

he wouldve spoken to you sooner if he didnt feel like his insides were being flipped at the mere thought of you

but you did end up speaking literally the day before he left for his quest

you had moved over to his table during dinner to wish him luck and find out a bit more about this quest

but you ended up taking for the entire night, hitting it off immediately and ending the night with him walking you to your cabin door with the excuse of "my legs are dragging me in the wrong direction!"

and when he returned from his quest, you were the first person he talked to about it

he literally went into full detail just so he'd have an excuse to talk to you longer (but left out the part where leo threatened to dump him into the ocean if he didn't shut up about you)

i feel like during your whole 'friends but you it doesn't feel like your actual friends and you can kinda tell you both want something more' era, jason is definitely making all the efforts to extend the conversation, spend more time with you, and to get to know you better while youre the one dropping more subtle hints that you want something more (which have him staring at his wall at 3 am questioning EVERYTHING)

i hate to drag things on longer than the should but guys... you dont get together until AFTER the quest of the 7 (well 8 cause surprise shawtay! you spent months on a boat fighting the tension between you and jason ‹𝟹) and even then it takes a few months full of you dropping heavy hints, the contemplation to make the first move, and countless amounts of teasing from your friends for him to FINALLY ask you if you'd let him be your boyfriend

thankfully from there, things just began to flow easily :)

you went on dates pretty often, but at some point you stopped considering them to be dates because you spend so much time together and its a bit difficult to come up with something original in a summer camp

but once you eventually move out of chb (jason moved camps to be with you) and into your apartments (not shared cause we need some space), you both made sure you were both coming up with unique ideas and planned dates frequently :)

jason ends up working a job in finance (trust fund, 6'5, blue eyes), while you did... well wtv u want queen !!

honestly life further on out is so peaceful and simple between you two, any issues you face you always work them out together

communication is so big between you two likeeee

not even only if you get into arguments and stuff, but just like in general

you talk about everything, know everything about each other, the yap sesh never ends between you guys ‹𝟹

you probably dont move in together until after youre married, which honestly bro ... biggest occasion ever

i cant lie and be like 'oh you just did something peaceful in a garden with friends ‹𝟹' nah yall went ALL OUT

youve been dreaming about your wedding since you were a kid (it comes with the parentage bro) and jason views giving you a big wedding as a way to really express your love for each other (and he gets to spoil u hehe)

he goes all out to propose too btw, like asks your closest friends from camp what your ideal proposal is and goes through with it

but yea after marriage? your life becomes practically perfect with the beginning of your family and live together forever nd ever ‹𝟹

not to say stuff gets boring like ur kids? some of the most random childrento ever walk the earth like theres always SOMETHING happening with them

and you and jason dont allow yourselves to go boring either, you stay communicating and working out different ways to showcase your affection for each other

you guys stay really close with your friends and always have them over for dinner and such ‹𝟹 (GUYS THE SEVEN ARE FOUND FAMILY IDGAFFFFF)

but yeah you continue to live in your happily ever after little fairy tale for ever n ever n ever ‹𝟹

[hoonieyun]

a lovesick girl's guide to heartbreak

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ fwb!jake x reader i start fights cause i wanna makeup... summary: although you specified with jake that you were only looking for a fwb, you just love getting a kick out of pushing his buttons. after all, as much as you like starting fights with him, you like making up with him after even more.

warnings: kissing, drinking and playing beer pong, jake and yn are not good people, i'm not sure the term but they use other people to get back at one another, suggestive, consensual skinship, possessive!jake, jake slightly chokes yn but its consensual!! bratty!reader ,18+ wc: 3729

hoonieyun notes: this is probably the spiciest one out of this series but no smut because i can't bring myself to write it so everything is quite suggestive lol

you’re getting ready to go to a party when a text on your phone catches your attention. setting down your lipstick and reaching for your phone, a smile appears on your lips as you read the text in your head. 

from: jaeyun  need me to pick you up baby?

the text reads and you’re smirking to yourself knowing that you’ve got something up your sleeve. jake has gotten on your nerves lately because although the two of you weren’t exclusive, you were each other’s exclusive friends with benefits, meaning you two would only be seeing each other but not dating. 

however, he loves to act like you’re just some girl when the two of you are in public, ignoring your advances and doing his best to act like he isn’t smitten with you after spending the weekend at your apartment, cuddling you in his sleep and making you breakfast in the morning. 

sure, it was nice to have a warm body next to you when you slept at night but you were beginning to think that jake was becoming more than somebody you wanted to fuck around with and could see a life with him as your boyfriend, the only thing was you weren’t sure if he felt the same way. 

he always acted differently from the jaeyun that you knew in your bedroom and the jake that you knew when it came to being around your friends and in public. you wouldn’t necessarily say he was ashamed to be with you but more often than not it felt like he was hiding this relationship the two of you had like it was something to be ashamed of. 

you decide not to respond and set your phone back down to finish the last of your makeup but another text rings once again. you go to look at your phone to see another text from jake, this time he’s being less sweet and more assertive with you. 

from:  jaeyun alright, i’ll see you at the party i guess

you roll your eyes in annoyance at the fact that he was being so passive aggressive but you couldn’t blame him because you were being just as passive aggressive and even more with what you had planned for the night. another text appears on your phone but its from a different person this time, now a smile on your face that wasn’t partnered with mischievous. 

from: myungjae :3  hi cutie, i’m outside. take your time, ok?” 

myungjae was your plan for the night. if jake wasn’t going to flaunt you around like somebody he was proud to have on his arm, you’ll find somebody that would and you did. myungjae was a guy you had met at jake’s soccer game. he had come up to you before the game when you were at a vending machine and you learned that he was a player at your university’s rival team. you texted occasionally and myungjae wasn’t shy to show you how much he wanted to take you out on a date. 

out of respect for jake, you always politely declined myungjae’s advances but as of lately, jake’s behavior has pissed you off so much that you didn’t care anymore that you yourself asked myungjae out on a date; to which he enthusiastically accepts. 

a part of you did feel bad that you were using him to get back at jake but at the end of the day, it’s all fun and games, right? 

you quickly spritz perfume onto your exposed clavicle and admire yourself in your mirror one last time before heading outside to meet myungjae. flipping your hair over your shoulder and thinking about how killer you looked tonight, knowing how you could have any guy crawling after you tonight. 

when you exit your apartment, you see myungjae outside leaning on the hood of his car as he waits for you, you smile and do a slight jog to get to him, trying to make sure you don’t fall over in your heels. “hi, myungjae.” you say in a sickly and sweet voice. 

“hi, cutie.” he says, smiling down at your pretty face, taking in your features and overall demeanor, he doesn’t even notice he’s checking you out until you playfully slap his chest. “keep it in your pants, mister.” you taunt and he rolls his eyes with a smirk knowing that you know how much of an effect you have on him. you place a small kiss on his cheek before he opens the door for you and grabs your hand to help you in. you watch as myungjae runs around the car to get to the driver’s side, sliding into his seat and making your way to the party– his hand on your exposed thigh the whole drive. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

when you get to the party, myungjae doesn’t leave your side at all, one of his arms is constantly draped around your shoulder or waist, or his soft hands gently wrapped around yours. it was a party by someone at your university so he only knew a few people aside from you. he follows you as you make your rounds throughout the party like he was a lost puppy and you had given him a sliver of attention that he craved. 

 you introduce myungjae to a lot of your friends and find your way to the kitchen where you fix the two of you a drink, a concoction inside of a red solo cup of whatever looked good and a cold glass of beer of myungjae, explaining that he’ll only have one bottle because he wants to be sober to ensure he gets you home safely. you found him so cute, pinching his cheek, if your brain wasn’t so tainted with the idea of jake you probably would’ve chosen myungjae a long time ago but jake was just constantly running on your mind no matter how badly or well he treated you in and outside of your bedroom. 

as jake enters the kitchen, his steps slow down when he sees you handing myungjae his beer, clearing his throat to get both of your attention. 

“yn, nice to see you.” he says, anger clearly in his eyes. 

“hi, jaeyun.” you say, using the name he said was specifically reserved for you. 

“have you met myungjae? he plays for the bonedo soccer team.” you ask even though all three of you know the answer to that as jake and myungjae are known to have quite the rivalry. “sup, man.” myungjae says, raising his glass to jake and jake just nods in response before stomping over to the fridge to get a beer of his own. 

“have fun.” you say as he leaves the kitchen, knowing that you were not beginning to get under his skin just by showing up with not only another man, but also a man that he didn’t like. “you guys good?” myungjae asks and you turn to him with a bright smile and nod, “mhmm, don’t worry your pretty head.” you say, toasting your cup with his bottle and taking a sip of your drink, smirking to yourself once again now that your plan for the night has begun. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you’re dancing with myungjae when you glance over to a corner of the room and see that jake was sitting on the couch with yunjin in his lap, twirling her hair while jake stared at her lips. you couldn’t believe it, jake was trying to play the same game as you by getting with a girl that you didn't like. you always voiced to jake how much you didn’t like yunjin because you felt like she was always competing with you for things that didn’t matter like when she got chosen for an internship over you and told everyone it was because she was smarter than you when in reality it was because the ceo of that tech company was her godfather. 

jake suddenly catches your gaze and smiles at you as if he was saying, “two can play at that game.” and you know what, two can certainly play that game so to piss jake off even more, you switch your position from facing myungjae with your hands around his shoulder to having your backside to his front, moving his hands to your waist instead as the music picks up and your bodies begin to move in unison. 

if anyone saw the two of you right now they would probably mistake you and myungjae as a couple and knowing that people were perceiving you that way only angered jake further because although he would act like he didn’t know you in public, he was the only would that should be touching you in that way. 

when you revert your gaze back to jake you see that he’s angrily storming out of the room, leaving yunjin with an annoyed expression as she’s left alone on the couch also watching jake leave the room. 

yn: 2 jake: 1 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the next time you see jake, he’s with chaewon in the kitchen, his hand fiddling with the hem of her crop top, a longing gaze in her eyes as she watches jake who you knew wouldn’t return the same expression because he would only look at you that way. 

you and myungjae make your way back inside of the kitchen to fix yourself another drink, ignoring jake and chaewon because you didn’t want to give them the attention jake wanted from you so bad. you bring your cup to myungjae’s lips as you offer him a sip and he takes a small sip because he just can’t resist the look in your eyes. 

jake on the other hand is tightening his jaw and is gripping his cup so hard that it constricts, causing the liquid on the inside to splash onto him and chaewon, “what the fuck?” she exclaims, causing you and myungjae to look over at them. you see chaewon swipe her hands in annoyance to get rid of the beer on her skin and jake apologetically follows her out of the kitchen as she storms out. you roll your eyes and shake your head knowing that jake couldn’t beat you in your own game. 

no matter how hard he tries to get under your skin, you were already deep under there. 

yn: 3 jake: 2 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

you soon find yourself competing against jake and chaewon in a game of beer pong with myungjae. you were surprised he was very good which you knew only made jake angrier as he wasn’t the best at the game. you had even warned jake that he should probably find another couple to play against, boasting about myungjae’s abilities without knowing if your bluffs were true. 

the sound of you calling yourself and myungjae a “couple” sets him and causes him to start the game before you even accept his challenge– and with just a few tosses, you and myungjae have only lost one cup while jake and chaewon had lost all but one cup. 

it was myungjae’s turn to toss the ball and for good luck, he asks you to blow on the ball and you oblige. blowing on to it with puckered lips and an unbreaking gaze with myungjae. jake is gripping the edge of the table as he watches the two of you, chaewon standing off to the side disinterested in any of this as she’s noticed that jake was more focused on trying to win you over and competing with myungjae than he was interested in her. at some point she ends up leaving after she receives a text from yunjin saying that jake ghosted her at the party so she leaves without notice and jake definitely doesn’t notice her absence. 

when myungjae skillfully tosses the ping pong ball towards the cup, it goes right in, earning cheers from everyone watching and most importantly, you. you’re jumping up and down while clapping, proud that myungjae has successfully won you the beer pong game and to reward him you’re about to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss but you’re suddenly dragged away when jake grabs onto your wrist and pulls you outside into the front yard. 

“let me go, jake!” you yell, trying to free your hand but his grip on you is relentless and there was no way you were freeing yourself. 

“are you done?” he asks and you look at him with an expression that reads like you had no idea what he was talking about. jake inches closer, his nose almost touching yours as he looks down into your eyes with so much fury in his eyes at the stunt you had pulled tonight. you looked up at him with an arrogant gaze knowing that your plan was successful, flashing him a smile like you were so innocent in all of this, jake can’t help but smirk at you; wiping his face with aggravation. 

“yn, are you ok?” myungjae says from behind as he stands at the door. 

before you could even respond, jake flashes his middle finger at the poor guy and drags you to his car, leaving myungjae behind without an explanation; a noticeable pout on his lips as he watches you willingly leave with jake and get inside of his car. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

the drive to jake’s apartment was quiet, his jawline more prominent than usual as he’s constantly flexing his jaw in annoyance, trying to think of what he wanted to say to you but all he had in his head was how he was going to make you beg after being so bratty all night. 

the grip he had on your thigh was a lot different than the one myungjae has on you hours before, jake squeezing your thigh with so much force that when he let go as you arrived at his apartment, there was a visible print on your skin. 

“get inside.” he says and you know not to disobey him further, a smile on your face as you think about all of your efforts tonight being successful and how this was the result that you wanted. sure it was wrong to start a fight with jake all because you wanted to but at the end of the day, it was his fault for acting like he didn’t crave your touch every night. 

it may be wrong to like to start fights but it was all because you enjoyed making up after a lot more. 

when you enter jake’s apartment, he’s right on your heel, shutting his door behind you and pressing you against the door, his hand wrapping around your neck. “you wanna act like a brat?” he taunts, eyes scanning your face and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find jake’s behavior attractive. you decide to stay silent to push his buttons even more as he hates being ignored. 

“hmph, i’ll make you regret acting like that.” he whispers into your ear, his lips lightly grazing your ear as he hauls you over his shoulder and takes you to his bedroom. you try to fight him off, squirming around but it is to no avail as his strong grip around you prevents you from moving around too much. 

you were starting to think that this was all a bad idea but you couldn’t help but crave the way jake treats you whenever you act this way. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

after several hours of releasing tension, anger, and frustration; you and jake are laying on his bed, out of breath and staring into his ceiling. the blankets are covering the two of you and you’re laying in silence after everything that just happened. you got what you wanted and so did jake even if he was furious with you just a few hours ago. 

“you still being bratty?” he says with a cocky smirk and you just roll your eyes at him as you sit up, bringing the blanket up further to cover yourself. “jake i wouldn’t be acting like this if you treated me the way i deserve to be treated.” you say and the harsh truth hits jake in a way that he didn’t expect. 

he thought you were only acting like that because you wanted his attention but not because you were genuinely bothered by his behavior, “what are you even talking about?” jake says, turning towards you and propping up his arm with his elbow and resting his head into his hand. 

“jake, you practically act like i don’t exist when we’re in public or with our friends.” you explain and jake huffs as if he was exhausted from this conversation already. 

“we’re not even dating?” he says and now it was your turn to be furious with him. “that’s not the point, jake! you act like i don’t exist, you ignore me, and you act like you’re ashamed to be seen with me but once the sun sets you’re texting me to have me sleep in your bed. 

how is that supposed to make me feel? i know we’re friends with benefits but the first word of that arrangement is ‘friend’ and you haven’t treated me like one.!” you shout and jake was getting up to get dressed, avoiding your gaze. 

“oh and bringing myungjae’s ass to the party, were you being a good friend? you know i don’t like his ass!” he retorts and you’re standing up in aggravation because jake was not getting the point, “that doesn’t matter!” you try to yell back and he interrupts you, “yes it fucking does! you know i don’t like him and you still brought him to piss me off, why!” he shouts and jake has never raised his voice at you like this before. the two of you getting caught in a screaming match like no other as you both shout at the top of your lungs at one another. 

“because i like you and i wanted to be with someone that liked me the way i like him but the whole time you were the only one on my mind, ok!” you shout, finally confessing to jake that you’ve developed feelings for him despite that being the golden rule of your arrangement. 

never catch feelings. 

jake wipes his face with a heavy sigh and you’re plopping back down onto the mattress after getting so worked up you found yourself standing on top of his bed, the blanket barely clinging onto you. 

“what?” jake mutters. 

“i like you, ok? i have for a while and it pisses me off that you act like i’m just some girl when we spend almost every night in each others arms, you hold me at night like you never want to let me go but when morning hits sometimes you’re gone before the birds even begin to chirp. 

you make me feel things i know i’m not supposed to feel and it hurts, ok?” your chest is rising up and down as you finally let out your feelings and jake is looking at you like you’ve just told him your deepest and darkest secret. 

“thats… no! you can’t like me, i’m not good for you!” he explains and you’re looking at him like none of the words that leave his mouth make any sense. 

“you’re too good to me, you’re so sweet and kind and treat me like i’m the only thing that matters in your life even when i’ve been so shitty to you. even right now! i’ve been shitty to you and you’re professing your love to me and i don’t deserve it. i don’t deserve you!

you deserve better and i’m not that.” jake responds and you’re fighting off the tears pooling in your lashes. 

“you don’t get to decide what i deserve..” you whisper and you’re staring at one another in silence. 

jake is weighing the option in his head. he loved you so fucking bad, probably even more than you loved and his actions tonight showed that with how bad he fought for you despite you constantly choosing myungjae over him. if jake was being honest, he fell for you fairly quickly when he spent the night one weekend and gave him face masks to put on because you had made a comment on how dry his skin was. it was that small gesture that made him fall for you and everyday after he fell deeper and deeper. 

jake was terrible for you and he knew that and although he wanted to be selfish and keep you all to himself, he knew that your life would only be miserable if you stayed with him. that’s why he started avoiding you and slowly distancing himself in hopes that it would just drive you away but it only drove him closer to you because he hated seeing another man touch what was his. 

“no.” was all jake says and you didn’t need any further explanation. you’re jumping out of his bed and shoving past him to put your clothes back on and jake instantly regrets this, trying to get you to stay but it seems that jake has made up your mind for you by not rejecting you but dictating what you deserved; and it wasn’t him. 

“wait- don’t leave, come on.” he begs and you’re shaking your head and wiping your tears away, angry that you were crying over a man who didn’t even spare your feelings after you had just confessed to him. 

when jake tries to grab onto your arm to stop you from leaving, you’re quick to snatch your arm away and leave his room, standing at the door to listen to the last of his pleas, begging you to stay and explaining that you are meant to be and that jake didn’t mean what he said but it was all too late. you could tell he was just backtracking because he was scared of losing you and although you felt the same way and wanted nothing more to run back to him; you left jake in the darkness of his bedroom without another glance. 

deciding that you do deserve better even if the realization came from a heartbreaking experience, the revelation a result of having to lose someone you once held so close to your heart. 

"makeup" slayyyter x lolo zouai the usage of song lyrics is credited to the artists above

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

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