#just look for De and fast forward the rest

[noorpersona]

Rivalry: Kyotani/Mad Dog (NSFW)

You had always been a hothead. It was something the team had come to accept, even appreciate, over time. Your sharp tongue and refusal to take anyone’s crap made you the perfect manager for Seijoh—especially when it came to keeping the chaos of Oikawa and the others in check.

Until Kyōtani arrived.

They called him Mad Dog for a reason, and from the moment he stepped onto the court, you knew he was going to be a problem. He was raw, aggressive, barely listening to anyone, and his sheer refusal to be controlled made him the biggest wildcard the team had ever seen. Even Oikawa—who had made a sport out of getting under people’s skin—had to take a step back and re-evaluate.

The coach, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi had even pulled you aside before his first official practice, practically begging you to not bite his head off.

“Look,” Iwaizumi had said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… try not to engage with him too much. He’s got a short fuse.”

Oikawa sighed dramatically. “And you have a much shorter one, which makes this whole thing a recipe for disaster.”

You had rolled your eyes, arms crossed. “I’m not going to start anything. But I’m not going to stand by and let him run the show, either.”

And true to your word, you hadn’t gone looking for a fight. But Kyōtani made it impossible not to fight back.

The team tried to adjust to him, letting his rough playing style integrate into their system, but you could see it plain as day—Kyōtani wasn’t playing with them. He was playing through them, like they were just obstacles in his way instead of teammates.

So when he nearly took out Matsukawa during a reckless play, you didn’t hold back.

The tension in the gym shifted the second you opened your mouth.

“Kyōtani, if you’re going to keep playing like a brainless lunatic, at least do it outside of practice where you’re not dragging the rest of us down.”

The words sliced through the gym, sharp and unapologetic.

Silence.

The entire team froze. Even Oikawa, who usually thrived on chaos, hesitated mid-laugh, his expression shifting into something wary. Iwaizumi muttered a curse under his breath, already preparing for the fallout.

Kyōtani’s head snapped up so fast it was almost inhuman, his eyes burning with a fury that could’ve set the entire gym on fire. His entire body stiffened before he was already charging toward you, a force of pure, unrelenting anger.

“The hell did you just say to me?” His voice was gravel, rough and unrestrained, like he was barely holding himself back.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver. Just folded your arms and stepped toward him, meeting his fire with your own. “I said you’re reckless. A liability. And if you keep playing like an idiot, you’re going to cost us more than just a few points.”

Kyōtani’s jaw locked. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“The one who has to clean up after your messes,” you shot back, eyes gleaming with defiance. “You think playing like a rabid dog makes you stronger? It just makes you sloppy.”

The muscle in his jaw ticked dangerously. He took another step forward, close enough that you could feel the heat of his fury radiating off him. His fists clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles went white. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Oh? Then tell me,” you challenged, tilting your head mockingly. “Are you deliberately making the same dumbass mistakes, or is it just a bad habit?”

A few strangled sounds came from the team behind you. Hanamaki visibly recoiled, while Matsukawa mouthed, Holy shit. Oikawa, however, looked absolutely delighted.

Kyōtani’s breath hitched, nostrils flaring as his rage boiled over. “The hell’s your problem?!?”

You smirked, unbothered. “Right now? You.”

That was it.

Kyōtani lunged—actually lunged—shoulders tensing like he was about to tear through you.

“Oi! Enough!” Oikawa’s voice cut through the thick tension as he shoved himself between you, hands raised in an attempt to de-escalate. “Let’s not murder our manager, yeah? Not exactly great for team morale.”

Neither of you budged.

“Back off, Oikawa,” Kyōtani growled, eyes still locked onto yours like a predator locked onto prey.

“Yeah, no, I don’t think I will,” Oikawa shot back, still grinning but with thinly veiled nerves. “How about we all take a deep breath and—”

“Kyōtani,” Iwaizumi cut in, voice sharp, stepping in beside Oikawa. His hand slammed into Kyōtani’s chest, holding him back with unquestionable force. “That’s enough.”

Kyōtani was breathing hard, his shoulders rising and falling erratically, but he didn’t move. Iwaizumi’s hold was unyielding—and everyone in the gym knew that when Iwaizumi shut something down, it was over.

For now.

Kyōtani’s chest heaved, but after a long, tense beat, he jerked his arm away and stormed toward the other side of the gym, hands clenched at his sides.

Kyōtani didn’t bother with another word. His jaw was locked, his entire frame radiating barely-contained rage as he turned on his heel and stormed out of the gym altogether, the doors slamming behind him with enough force to make the walls tremble. The silence he left in his wake was deafening, the air still crackling with tension even after he was gone.

You watched him go, arms still folded, expression neutral. But inside?

You were already looking forward to the next round.

And you could tell—so was he.

By the time the rest of the team had filtered out of the gym, you were still lingering, scribbling down notes on the practice report. The tension from earlier was still humming beneath your skin, but at least Kyōtani was gone, having stormed out long before practice had officially ended.

Just as you were about to finish up, Iwaizumi’s shadow loomed over you.

"What the hell was that?" His voice was low, firm, and pissed—the kind of tone that immediately told you there was no wriggling out of this one.

You let out a light scoff. "What? He started—"

"No. Stop." His voice was sharp enough to cut through any excuse you were about to give. "You can't keep having explosive arguments like this. This isn't some damn street fight. You're the manager. You're supposed to be keeping things together—not provoking him into ripping the gym apart."

Your mouth snapped shut, irritation prickling under your skin. "I wasn’t provoking him, I was holding him accountable. Someone has to."

Iwaizumi pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling through gritted teeth. "Someone will. And that someone is not you."

Oikawa whistled low from a few feet away. "Yikes. Parent mode activated."

Iwaizumi shot him a glare so lethal that even Oikawa had the good sense to shut up.

"Here's what's going to happen," Iwaizumi continued, his gaze back on you. "You're going to apologize."

Your head snapped up. "Absolutely not—"

"You will apologize," he emphasized, his tone brooking no argument, "because he's been instructed to do the same. And for the next week, you’re both staying late every night to clean up the gym together. Since you apparently need time to warm up to each other.""

You gaped at him. "Iwaizumi, if we're left alone together, we will kill each other."

His lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line. "Either or—it’s a win-win."

Oikawa lingered for a moment, tilting his head at you with an all-too-pleased smirk. "You know, this is probably the funniest thing that’s happened all week. You having to play nice with Mad Dog? I might just have to stick around and watch."

You shot him a glare, but before you could fire back, Iwaizumi grabbed him by the collar, dragging him toward the exit. "No, you won’t."

Oikawa laughed, waving over his shoulder. "Good luck! Try not to get mauled!"

And with that, Iwaizumi yanked him out of the gym, leaving you standing there, seething. __

The morning air was crisp, and players filtered into the gym one by one, stretching and murmuring in hushed conversations about the previous day’s events. In the back of the building, hidden away from curious eyes, you and Kyōtani stood rigid, staring each other down like caged animals, with Iwaizumi standing between you both, arms crossed and absolutely fuming.

“Now,” Iwaizumi started, his tone flat and deadly, “apologize. Both of you.”

You scoffed, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “I have nothing to apologize for—”

“Neither do I,” Kyōtani snapped immediately, jaw locked tight.

Iwaizumi’s glare was sharp enough to cut steel. “That wasn’t a request.”

The weight of his voice left no room for argument, but that didn’t stop you from trying. “Fine,” you muttered begrudgingly, narrowing your eyes. “Sorry for calling you a brainless lunatic. No matter how accurate that name is.”

Kyōtani gritted his teeth so hard you could hear it before muttering, "And I'm sorry for calling you a raging bitch behind your back."

A tense silence stretched between you both, the mutual death glare unwavering. Iwaizumi pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a slow, controlled exhale. "Not great, but whatever. I’m done babysitting you both. Just remember—you’re staying late tonight. Every night. Until you actually learn how to work together."

Your lips curled in frustration, and beside you, Kyōtani’s nostrils flared in irritation. But there was no use arguing with Iwaizumi when he was like this. You both knew it.

Instead, you stomped off toward morning practice, shoulders tense, eyes locked in a wordless standoff with Kyōtani. His glare was like a challenge, sharp and unyielding, but you refused to be the first to break. If anything, you held his gaze harder, your jaw clenching as if sheer force of will could make him combust.

It was infuriating how he just stood there, equally stubborn, like he could go on all day. The tension between you two felt suffocating, thick like the summer heat just before a storm. Every second that passed only made it worse, only made you more determined not to give him the satisfaction of winning something as stupid as this.

The moment you stepped into the gym, you grabbed the clipboard harder than necessary, scowling as you checked off drills. Every muscle in your body was wound tight, and no matter how much you tried to focus, you could still feel him. Every movement Kyōtani made was too loud, every breath too noticeable, like he was doing it on purpose just to annoy you.

When he slammed a ball into the floor a little harder than necessary, you snapped.

"Could you not act like you're trying to break the court? We actually need it to play."

Kyōtani whipped his head toward you, scowl deepening. "Maybe if you stopped staring at me, it wouldn’t bother you so much."

Your fingers twitched. "Oh, please. Your presence is just naturally irritating."

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you."

Iwaizumi, watching from the sideline, let out a deep sigh, already regretting his life choices.

Oikawa strolled up beside you, hands casually tucked into his pockets, and leaned in slightly. "Remember to take a deep breath."

You turned to him immediately, eyes still blazing. "You're not helping."

Oikawa straightened, backing away quickly. "Right. Sorry."

The day dragged on, and your irritation refused to fade. Every small thing set you off—Kyōtani’s heavy footsteps, his reckless spikes, even the way he existed just within your space. By evening practice, your patience was nonexistent. Your responses were sharper, your glares colder, and everyone in the gym could feel the storm brewing.

As the team filtered out for the night, Matsukawa cast a sideways glance at Iwaizumi. "Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave them alone together? I’m not confident I won’t wake up and find out there’s been a homicide."

Iwaizumi grunted, arms crossed stubbornly. "They’ll be fine."

Matsukawa didn’t look convinced, but with one last wary glance, he left with the others, leaving just you and Kyōtani standing on opposite sides of the now-empty gym, the tension still thick enough to choke on.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, rolling your shoulders and trying to shake off the irritation that had clung to you all day. "Let’s just get this over with," you muttered, moving toward the storage area. "We’ll split the work. You pick up the stray balls on the court, and I’ll handle the gear." You turned back toward him, narrowing your eyes. "Think you can handle that?"

Kyōtani’s scowl deepened instantly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." You turned on your heel before he could bark back another response, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort.

He muttered something under his breath, but you didn’t catch it. Instead, you focused on sorting through the practice gear, trying to ignore the obnoxious way Kyōtani stomped across the gym, each step somehow louder than the last. You could hear him roughly snatching up the scattered volleyballs like they had personally offended him, his movements jerky and aggressive. Then came the sound—

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The rhythmic slam of volleyballs hitting the ground as he hurled them over the net, one after another. It was like a slow, torturous metronome designed specifically to piss you off.

You gritted your teeth, trying to ignore it. Thud. Thud. Each impact echoed through the empty gym, grating on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Thud. Thud.

"Can you not?" you snapped finally, voice tight with irritation.

Kyōtani didn’t even look up. "What?"

"Quit throwing them like that. Just pick them up and put them in the cart like a normal person."

He scoffed, grabbing another ball and slamming it down even harder than before. "Get off my ass. It’s faster this way."

Your fingers curled into a fist, your nails pressing into your palm as you inhaled sharply through your nose. "I swear to god—"

"What? Gonna throw another tantrum? Go ahead, maybe Iwaizumi will pat you on the head and tell you what a good little manager you are," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. Another ball crashed against the floor with an especially sharp, echoing thud, rattling against the empty gym walls.

You stiffened. Thud. Again. Thud. Your eye twitched. Thud.

"Honestly, it’s almost cute how obsessed you are with what I do. Maybe if you focused more on your actual job instead of breathing down my neck, you'd get through this week without crying," he drawled, lazily tossing another ball over the net.

That was it.

Before you could stop yourself, you snatched up one of the stray volleyballs and hurled it straight at his head. It hit dead-on, bouncing off with a sharp thunk that was deeply satisfying.

Kyōtani froze mid-motion, shoulders locking up.

Then, slowly, he turned to face you, expression dark and dangerous. His breath was heavy, nostrils flaring, and for a second, the silence was deafening. Then—

He lunged.

Before you could react, his hands gripped your wrists, shoving you back against the gym wall with enough force to send a sharp jolt up your spine. Your breath hitched, the impact knocking the air out of your lungs, but you barely had time to register it before you were pushing right back.

"What the hell is your problem?!" you snapped, struggling against his hold.

"You," he growled, his voice low and rough, pressing in closer until his breath fanned against your skin. His grip was tight, keeping you in place even as you tried to shove him off.

"Let me go, you psycho," you hissed, jerking your wrists, but he only leaned in harder.

"You throw a ball at my head and expect me to just let it slide?" His voice was a snarl, but there was something else underneath it—something sharp, hungry.

And, of course, you pushed back.

"Yeah, actually," you bit out, lips curling into something close to a smirk. "Considering you deserved it. You’re lucky I don’t throw another."

Something in him snapped.

His hands shifted, and before you knew it, his mouth was on yours.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t careful. It was a clash of teeth and frustration, of fury and heat, like neither of you could decide if you wanted to keep fighting or tear each other apart.

Your hands shot up to shove him away, but instead, they curled into his jersey, yanking him closer. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a sharp bite that made you gasp, and he took full advantage, pressing in harder, deeper.

His hands dropped to your waist, gripping you tight, like he was staking a claim, and you met him head-on, pulling his hair, dragging your nails down his neck, taking just as much as he was giving.

Everything blurred into heat and rough touches, the way his body pressed against yours, the way your hips shifted instinctively, the way neither of you were thinking—just reacting.

Kyōtani pulled back, panting, his forehead pressing against yours, his grip still firm on your waist. His breath was hot against your skin, his eyes blown wide with something between rage and hunger.

"This is a bad idea," you muttered, voice breathless but defiant.

His fingers tightened on your hips.

"Yeah?" His voice was low, dangerous. "Then tell me to stop."

You didn’t.

"You always run your fucking mouth," he growled, voice sharp, jagged. His hands were rough, unforgiving as they gripped your thighs, spreading them apart with purpose. "Let’s see if you can still talk after this."

You huffed a laugh, fingers yanking down his shorts, not bothering to be gentle. "Bet you won’t last long enough to find out."

That was all it took.

Kyōtani didn't waste a second—he slammed inside you in one punishing thrust, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips. It was too much, too fast, too deep—but fuck, it was exactly what you wanted.

The first thrust knocked the air from your lungs. The second had you arching, dragging your nails down his back, marking him, spurring him on.

"Fucking tight," he gritted out, his buzzed hair scraping against your jaw as he bit at your neck, your shoulder—anywhere he could sink his teeth into. He was holding you like he owned you, like he needed to break you apart just to put you back together.

It was raw, messy, desperate. Each snap of his hips was brutal, slamming you harder into the wall, forcing pleasure and pain to blur together.

It should’ve been a fight for dominance, but neither of you were losing—you were meeting him with everything you had, clawing, grinding, biting.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, yanking hard. He snarled, gripping your hips so tight it would leave bruises, slamming into you harder, deeper.

"That all you got?" you taunted, voice breathless, challenging.

Kyōtani laughed—a dark, wrecked sound. "You really wanna test me, huh?"

His pace turned brutal, every thrust hitting deep, devastating. The sharp drag of his cock against your walls, the angle, the overwhelming pressure— it was too much. Too good.

You felt yourself unraveling, the heat coiling tight, pleasure pooling low in your stomach, ripping through you like fire.

"Fuck, I—"

He could feel it. The way your body tightened around him, trembling, desperate, right on the edge. And he wanted to push you over.

"Come on," he rasped, voice strained, his rhythm stuttering as he chased his own release. "You talk all that shit—let me hear you now."

That was all it took.

Pleasure slammed through you, violent and overwhelming, tearing a moan from your lips as you came, clenching around him, dragging him down with you.

Kyōtani cursed, low and guttural, hips jerking as he spilled inside you, his breath ragged, sharp teeth sinking into your shoulder like he needed to leave proof of what just happened.

For a long moment, the only sound was the ragged mix of your breathing. Your body was wrecked, trembling, weak—but so was his.

Kyōtani didn’t pull out. Didn’t move. Just gripped your jaw, tilting your face toward him, his forehead resting against yours as he panted through the aftershocks.

And then, voice rough, breathless, still full of that bite, he muttered—

"Still got something smart to say?"

You panted, barely able to catch your breath, a smirk tugging at your swollen lips. "Yeah—" you exhaled, voice rough, body still trembling. "I know what we're doing tomorrow."

[girlgenius1111]

unhappy reunions

sol runs into her parents after the copa de la reina final no warnings.

--------

“Solstråle?” 

You froze. You knew that voice, knew it well. Your mother normally didn’t call you by the nickname Ingrid had given you, and that almost surprised you more than her surprise appearance.The noisy cafe still existed around you, but when you turned around, that was all forgotten. 

“Mamma?” You whispered, instinctually taking a step backwards from the woman in front of you. 

It made sense; you should have known better than to expect your parents to miss one of perfect, perfect Ingrid’s important games. 

“Hei, kjære.” Your dad said gently. He had his hand on your mom’s elbow, holding her back from taking a step closer. It wasn’t as jarring to see him, but your body had been plunged into panic the moment you’d seen your mothers’ face. 

“I-.... I can’t,” you mumbled, backing up until your back hit the door. The last thing you saw before you turned to leave was a heartbroken expression on your mom’s face. As if she was upset you wouldn’t talk to her. You were confused, overwhelmed, and so, so upset. 

You booked it back to the hotel. As fast as you could, walking as quickly as would be socially acceptable. You’d forgotten the coffee you’d ordered, which you only realized as you got in the elevator at the hotel. You were kind of torn on whether to head to your room, or to Ingrid and Mapi’s. They’d probably still be asleep; the celebrations had gone late the night before, and you wanted them to rest, to really soak in the victory. 

But honestly, you weren’t sure you’d be able to calm yourself down, and you knew your sister could. You made a decision that you wouldn’t have a few months ago, maybe even a few weeks ago, stopping in front of your sister’s door rather than your own. You chose company over self pity, and comfort over punishing yourself. And it felt wrong. 

Mapi answered the door. “Good morning Sol!” She said cheerily, stepping aside to let you in the room. The bathroom door was closed and you could hear the shower running, which explained where your sister was. 

“Hi.” You said, your voice much shakier and quieter than normal. 

“You okay?” Mapi asked, shutting the door and giving you a concerned look. 

“Yeah.” The lie was instinctual. “No, actually. No. I… I went to get coffee.” 

Mapi looked at your empty hands, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“I saw my mom. She- both of them. My mom and my dad, they were in the coffee shop I went to. And I saw them.” You looked away from Mapi as you spoke, staring down at your hands. They were trembling. 

“Sol,” Mapi sighed and reached out for your hand, though you stepped backwards, shaking your head at her. 

“Please don’t touch me.” You whispered, pressing the heels of your palms tightly against your eyes. You felt so unsettled, so uncomfortable. Suddenly, Zaragoza didn’t feel safe, you didn’t feel safe. You wanted to go home, or maybe you just wanted to hide yourself somewhere quiet and far, far away from anyone else. 

Mapi stood for a minute, not sure what to do. You’d never refused a hug from her before and though she realized that you coming to their room as opposed to hiding away in your own room was a step forward, everything about your body language was screaming that you were miles away, back in Norway. Norway, where you didn’t feel loved or noticed. Where you shied away from hugs because you weren’t used to getting them. Mapi heard the shower turn off and wasn’t sure whether or not to be glad. Ingrid might be overwhelming for you, as it seemed like you were already overwhelmed, but Ingrid could sometimes get through to you in a way that only she could. 

“Okay, Sol. Everything is fine, cariño.” She tried to soothe. 

“No! No, everything isn’t fine. They aren’t supposed to be here, I don’t want to see her. Are they here to take me back? I don’t want to go back. I want to go home, to Barcelona. I want to go home Mapi, please.”

“You aren’t going back and you don't have to see anyone, nena.” Mapi promised, stepping closer with her hands raised slightly in the air. “Tell me what to do, tell me how I can help.” 

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” All you could do was shake your head back and forth, trying to keep yourself in the present. 

“Okay, Sol, just breathe. Just breathe for me.” Mapi soothed, taking a slight step forwards. It didn’t seem like you were hearing her. It didn’t even seem like you were in the room with her. 

“Mom, please please don’t send me away. I want to stay here with you. Please mom, please.” You sobbed. Your head hurt from crying, from going back and forth in circles with your mother. 

“You are going, and that is final.” Your mother said firmly. She didn’t really seem to see your tears, or how upset you were.  

You looked towards your dad, who couldn’t meet your eyes. “Dad, please. I don’t want to go. I’ll be better, I promise, just please,” 

Your father opened his mouth, as if to reply, but your mother beat him to it. “Enough. We are not changing our minds.”

You wiped a few tears away. “How can you do this to me?”

“Do this to you?” She repeated incredulously. “I’m always the bad guy with you. No matter how much I do, nothing is ever enough. You are ungrateful. You are only capable of thinking of yourself. This is not the kind of person I raised you to be. You say that you are anxious and depressed. I think you’re lying, and I am sick and tired of your excuses for this poor behavior. It is a miracle your sister is even willing to take you in. I am sure she has no idea what she’s getting herself into. You will go to Spain, and you will learn what it's like to not have someone do everything for you. And until you learn that, do not bother coming back here. I do not want to see your face again until you have cleaned up your act.” 

The room fell silent as your mother took a step back, a flicker of emotion flashing across her face. Your dad still wouldn’t look at you. If he had, he would have seen that the tears had stopped. You stood, looking like you’d been struck. In that moment, you hated yourself as much as your mother seemed to. Even if you didn’t understand why she felt that way. You were pretty sure it was warranted. 

“I am sorry for yelling. I just get so frustrated with you sometimes, and I don’t know what else to do.” She stepped closer, stopping when you took a step back. “We are doing this because we care about you.” 

It was always because they cared about you. Never because they loved you. Your mother had stopped saying love a long time ago, around the time you’d started acting out. You wondered if you’d ever hear it again. From anyone. 

“Sol, I need you to breathe.” Mapi said, bringing you out of your thoughts. You raised your head to look at her, and she almost cried herself at the downright haunted look on your face. The next second, you were practically lunging towards her, a broken sob falling from your lips. 

“I want Ingrid.” You choked out, pressing your face into Mapi’s shoulder. She nodded quickly, arms holding you securely to her, even as you trembled violently. 

“Ingrid,” Mapi called.

“One second.” Ingrid replied, not hearing the urgency in her girlfriend’s tone. 

When Ingrid walked out of the bathroom, clean and dressed in the clothes she was intending on wearing to the airport, she stopped in her tracks. Mapi was holding you close against her, shushing you quietly, and you were sobbing. 

“María? Solstråle? What-?” 

Mapi just shook her head, waving Ingrid to come closer. Your sister crossed the room quickly, filled with confusion and worry as she saw the state you were in. When you didn’t seem like you were going to explain anytime soon, Ingrid looked again to Mapi. 

“She saw your parents. They’re here, in Zaragoza, she saw them in a coffee shop.” 

Ingrid felt fury rise in her, but she pushed it aside, softly stroking over your hair with her hand. “Sol, I’m so sorry.” 

Once you felt your sister’s hand on your head, you turned around, falling into Ingrid. You squeezed her tighter than you ever had before, the only thought in your head that you did not want to go back. 

“Ingrid, don’t let them take me.” You sobbed. 

“Elskling, I am not letting anyone take you anywhere . You are staying with me, okay? I promise you.”  

Ingrid had seen you upset before. Really upset. Nothing came close to this, though. It felt like just when she thought she understood how much damage your parents had done on you, something else would happen that told her it was far worse than she'd been thinking. 

And at the worst possible moment, the door flew open and Patri and Pina’s loud voices filled the room, before they fell completely silent. They froze in the doorway, realizing that they had walked in on a full breakdown from you. They’d heard from Ingrid and Mapi that you’d been struggling. Until now, it had been hard to fit that information into the image they had of you. Smiley quiet Sol. 

Neither of them knew what had happened to get you to this point, cradled against your sister, sobbing so hard they weren’t even sure you knew they were there. 

“Out.” Mapi said harshly, moving to block your trembling form. She’d never snapped like this to her teammates, and though they had already been on their way out of the room, they moved faster.

“Sorry, Mapi.” Patri said quietly, yanking Pina out of the room quickly and shutting the door behind them. 

“What-?” Pina began. 

“I don’t know. Whoever hurt her enough to be like that… I don’t understand. She’s such a good kid.” 

“If Mapi ever goes to jail for murder, we’ll know who she went after.” 

Patri nodded her agreement. 

Back inside the room, you had stopped crying, save for the occasional sniffle. Ingrid almost preferred the crying to the completely blank look that had washed over your face. 

“Sol,”

“Pina and Patri?”

“They won’t say anything to anyone, and they won’t make fun of you, Sol. Not for this.” Mapi promised. 

“Okay. Good. I need to pack.” You said stiffly, stepping away from the comfort of your sister, and turning to walk out of the room. 

“No, Sol. No. Stop for a second. We cannot pretend that didn't just happen.” Mapi cut in. A flicker of surprise flashed across your face, as Mapi was normally the one to encourage Ingrid to let you take things at your own pace. 

You looked between her and your sister, wondering how you could explain it in a way that made sense to them. “ I can’t think about this any more before we go home. I just need to go home. Please.” 

For once, Mapi looked conflicted while your sister nodded instantly. She understood. You hated unfamiliar places. You were introverted that way, while Mapi was very much the opposite. There was never a feeling of complete safety when you and Ingrid were away from home, and she understood why you didn’t want to deal with this now, here. Not when you were only a few hours from being home. 

“Okay. I get that. I am not leaving you alone right now, though. We still have a few hours until we have to go, so take Mapi with you to finish packing, and then go find me coffee.” 

You nodded weakly, moving only once Mapi had given you a kind smile and began to lead you out of the room. 

Ingrid waited until the door had shut behind you both before she grabbed her phone from her pocket, and clicked on a contact she hadn’t even looked at in a while. 

-------

She was doing the right thing. That’s what Ingrid told herself. It had nothing to do with the desperate wish to see her parents, even if she was so furious with them she couldn’t put it into words. She missed her mom, and she had for a while. Ingrid was doing this for you, though; she was putting you first. 

When she entered the bar in the lobby of the hotel, she saw her parents instantly. They were sitting at a small table in the corner of the bright room, conversing quietly. Her father kept shaking his head, and her mother seemed to be insisting on something. 

Making her way over to the table, Ingrid schooled her features and took a deep breath. 

“Hi.” She said neutrally, taking the open seat at the table without really looking at either of her parents. 

“Ingrid.” Her mom said happily. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

Your sister dug her nails into her palm. Think of Sol. Think of what they have done.

“I’m not here to chat. I am here to tell you to stay away from Sol. She isn’t ready to see either of you right now. I didn’t realize I had to be specific in my request for you both to not come to the final, but you’ve crossed the line here. You had no idea how upset Sol is.”  

“Ingrid, we didn’t mean to run into her. We just came to see you play. It was completely coincidental, our flight back home leaves this evening.” Her dad explained. 

“You told us what Sol needed, and we want to respect that. But we have really missed you, and you’ve had such an incredible season. We just wanted to see you play.” Her mom chimed in. 

“And what about Sol? Have you missed her?” Ingrid asked bitingly. 

“Of course we have. I know we… I messed up. I made a lot of mistakes. I wasn’t well, Ingrid, but I’m doing better now and I want-”

“Sol is not going back to Norway.” Ingrid snapped. 

Her mother nodded instantly. “I know. I want your sister to be happy, and it seems like she is. The best place for her is with you, I understand that. I don’t get to be upset that she doesn’t want to come home, not when I’m the reason she had to leave in the first place. I want to apologize to her, Ingrid. Not today, but maybe we can come to Barcelona? And we can talk to her.” 

The suspicion on Ingrid’s face said enough. Her mother knew then that what she had broken was not fixable. Her relationship with you may not even be salvageable, and her one with Ingrid was broken. Potentially beyond repair. 

“I don’t know. I’ll talk to her when we’re home to see if she wants to do that.” 

“Okay. Whatever you think is best, Ingrid.” 

The table fell into silence before your father spoke, his voice oddly choked up. “How is she?” 

Your sister’s eyes flickered to your fathers before she answered, trying to gauge his sincerity. “She’s okay. She’s doing better. It’s not perfect, but she’s happier. We got her a dog, and she’s making friends. Her and Mapi are… crazy together, but it’s fun. She’s going to be okay, I think.”

Your father gave Ingrid a watery smile, blinking hard. 

“Ingrid, I want to say I’m sorry to you, too.” Your mother said after a minute.

 Ingrid glared at her. “For what? I am happy to have Sol here, I love her. She isn’t a burden to me.”

Her mother flinched, wiping a tear off her cheek. “That’s not what I meant. I… she’s doing better, and that is because of you. Because you are doing an incredible job with her. I am sorry because what I have done has understandably pushed you away from me. And it isn’t fair for Sol not to have had an attentive mother, but it isn’t fair for you either, to lose me too. It’s my fault, and I’m sorry. I miss you, kjære. I love and  miss you both, but I understand.” 

Ingrid stared out the window for a moment, willing herself not to start sobbing. “Thank you for apologizing.” She said finally. “I miss you too, but that doesn’t change anything. Sol needs me, and she is my priority. She hasn’t been yours in a long time, but she is mine and I will do whatever she needs me to do. Even if that means not seeing you both.” 

Both your parents nodded solemnly. “We understand, Ingrid. Really, we do.”

Ingrid nodded, biting her lip hard to keep from crying. God, she wished Mapi was here right now. 

“Okay. You should get back to your sister. We’re so proud of you, Ingrid. We’ll be cheering you on in the champions league final, and if Sol decides to hear me out, you know how to reach me. I love you, darling.” Her mother said, standing and pressing a kiss to Ingrid’s head, before she walked away from the table. She, too, was trying to keep it together, for her daughter’s sake. 

Your father rose and gently patted her cheek. “I love you, kiddo. Fly safe.” 

“I love you too.” She whispered, but both her parents were too far away by now to hear her.

She couldn’t stop the tears from dripping down her face as she headed for the elevator. She wiped furiously at them, but they fell all the same. 

The elevator opened up in front of her, and she was met with a very concerned Frido. 

“Hey. Mapi told me you were meeting your parents, and I… oh, Ingrid.” Frido sighed. At the sight of Frido, Ingrid had stopped trying to fight it, stepping in closer and letting out a heart wrenching sob. Frido tugged Ingrid back into the elevator with her, carefully wrapping her best friend in a tight hug. 

“I know, I know. It really sucks.” Frido whispered, clicking the button for your sister’s floor. “You’re doing the right thing for your sister, though, and I’m really proud of you, Ing.” 

Your sister wished she could find it within herself to feel proud, but the only feeling she had was that she really just wanted a hug from her mom. And more than that, she wanted to go back in time and erase all the hurt from your life. She wished things could just be fixed but she knew they couldn’t be, not quickly, maybe not at all. And that was something she was going to have to live with.

-------

You seemed weighed down with despair when Ingrid arrived back in her room. And distracted, finishing the final touches of packing Mapi’s suitcase. Mapi hated packing, and you loved it, so there was no confusion on Ingrid’s part as to why this was occurring. What was a bit alarming for her, though, was that you didn’t even seem to notice the tear tracks on Ingrid’s face, even though you looked right at her. You were an observant person, and not noticing how upset your sister was spoke volumes towards how poorly you were handling this. 

Mapi didn’t miss it, though. Of course not. She glanced up, seeing her girlfriend’s face, her brow instantly furrowing in concern. Ingrid refused to meet her eyes, terrified that she’d start crying again, but this time in front of you. 

“Hey, Sol? Can you go up to Frido’s room and see if I left my book there?” Mapi asked. 

You nodded absentmindedly, walking right past your sister and out the door. 

“Come here, princesa,” Mapi sighed, allowing Ingrid to fall into her arms and bury her face in Mapi’s t-shirt. She just held the Norwegian for a few minutes, every so often pressing a kiss to the side of Ingrid’s head. Mapi made sure to thread her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair, as she always did when it was down, scratching gently at her scalp. Ingrid tried to focus on the smell of Mapi overwhelming her, instead of any of the one million emotions she was feeling. “Did it not go well?’

“No, it went okay. Good, actually. They’re both completely aware that this is their fault, and they aren’t going to try to make Sol go back to Norway. It was just hard. I miss them, and I know I shouldn’t-”

“Hey, no. There is no should or shouldn’t when it comes to how you feel, mi amor. You can miss them and be angry at them all at the same time. And missing them doesn’t mean you love your sister any less. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ingrid nodded, trying to muster a smile for her girlfriend. “Thanks for sending Frido down, I was kind of a mess.” 

Mapi just flashed a smile at the Norwegian, gently kissing her cheek. “I love you.” She said softly. 

Ingrid wilted slightly, overcome, as she usually was, at how ridiculously perfect her beautiful girlfriend was. “I love you too, María.” 

-------

Ingrid and Mapi had left you alone in the airport for five minutes, going in search of coffee before Ingrid went on a killing spree of some kind. And it was in that short period of time that Patri and Pina very suddenly appeared on either side of you, flopping into the open seats next to you. 

You regarded them warily, trying to figure out if they were going to say something about it or not. 

“If we have to kill someone for you, we will.” Claudia said matter of factly. “More importantly, though, Mapi is going to fall asleep on that plane. And you are going to write something on her forehead.” 

“Am I?” You asked, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. 

“You are. I am thinking something along the lines of… I love my girlfriend?” Patri suggested. 

“Single and ready to mingle.” Pina countered. 

“Heterosexual.” 

“World’s biggest simp.” 

“Loser.” 

“Little bitch.”

All three of you were giggling at this point, attracting the attention of a few of your sister’s teammates sitting nearby. Among them, Esmee. She was a quiet girl, incredibly kind and also fond of your sister. Esmee was shy, and as such, the words that came out of her mouth were completely unexpected. 

“#1 Real Madrid Fan.” She suggested, a small smirk on her face. 

You fell off your seat, tears forming in your eyes as you pictured both Mapi’s reaction to that being written on her forehead, and at Esmee being the one who had come up with it. 

You didn’t notice Ingrid and Mapi watching on from a few feet away, having stopped in their tracks at the sound of your laughter. 

“I didn’t think I’d see her smile for a few days at least.” Ingrid murmured. 

“Me either. Thank god for the two biggest imbeciles on the planet.” Mapi said with a roll of her eyes. 

“No, not imbeciles. They saw she was upset earlier, and they knew what they were doing just now.” Ingrid said softly, exchanging a look with Patri. The young captain sent Ingrid a huge grin and a sly thumbs up. 

Mapi got a slightly mushy look on her face. “My favorite imbeciles.” She decided. 

Ingrid laughed, shaking her head. She knew very well that Pina and Patri would be right back to being Mapi’s least favorite imbeciles. Just as soon as Ingrid helped them draw on her girlfriend’s face. 

--------

“I don’t even like penises.” Mapi grumbled, dragging her bag through the door. “Stupid thing to draw.” 

You and Ingrid choked back laughter. “No one gets a penis drawn on them because they LIKE penises Mapi.” 

“You are on my list Engen.” Mapi sneered, her face cheering up greatly as Bagheera ran to greet her. 

“Hey, just be glad Alexia stopped them from putting it on your forehead.” You giggled. 

Ingrid turned to you, wide eyed, while Mapi whipped around, her jaw dropping. “Ingrid said SHE stopped them from doing that!” 

You dodged the wack Ingrid tried to land on your arm, laughing even harder. “Nah, Ingrid was pro penis on the forehead. Alexia was too, until she realized there’d be cameras when we got off the plane, and she changed her mind.” 

The Spaniard frowned down at the large drawing on her forearm, before her glare turned to you. “Oh, just wait, Engen. You’ll regret this.” 

A scandalized look appeared on your face. “Me?! It was Pina and Patri.” 

“They will pay too, pequeña, don’t worry. You’ll all pay.” 

You rolled your eyes at the Spaniard’s dramatics, but your amusement completely disappeared when Ingrid rested a hand on your shoulder and turned you towards her. 

“Can we talk for a sec, Sol?” 

Worry clouded your face as you nodded, allowing Ingrid to lead you into the living room. She wanted to be honest with you, tell you what had happened as soon as she could. You both were home now, and she knew you’d be upset if she kept her conversation with her parents from you for any longer. 

Taking a seat on the couch next to Ingrid, you turned expectantly to Mapi. Ingrid never had an important conversation with you without her girlfriend there as a buffer. 

“I am going to get the dog.” Mapi said, giving you a reassuring smile before she headed back out the door with Scout’s leash in hand. 

“Ingrid, I didn’t really want to talk about-”

“I talked to mom and dad.” Ingrid interrupted, wincing slightly at the panic and hurt that flashed across your face. 

“Oh.” You mumbled. 

“I just wanted to tell them to leave you alone, sweetheart. We didn’t talk for very long. They just said that they want you to be happy. Mom was really… apologetic. And she said that she wanted to talk to you. I told her that it was up to you, whether or not you wanted to talk to her.”

“Oh.” You repeated. Ingrid couldn’t get a read on how you were feeling. Overwhelmingly, it seemed to her like you were anxious, so she reached out and took your hand. “Mom wants me to go back to Norway?”

“No, Sol. She wants you to be happy. And you’re happier here than you ever were in Norway. I think she just wants to talk. To apologize.” 

“Oh. Okay.” You paused, trying to slow your pounding heart. You didn’t have to go back. “Do you- do you want me to talk to her?” You asked insecurely, eyeing your sister with apprehension. 

Ingrid shook her head again, running a hand through her hair. “Solstråle, I want you to do what you want to do. I want you to decide what will be best for you. Don’t think about me, Sol. Think about you.” 

She spoke so earnestly, you had a hard time figuring out which thing she really did want. But the more you thought about it, the clearer it became. 

Ingrid had always been close with your parents. The last few months must have been really hard for her, barely speaking to them at all. Ingrid probably wanted you to make up with them, so that she could do the same. Even if you didn’t go back to Norway. You could put your family back together again. That was what Ingrid wanted. 

You opened your mouth to tell her you’d talk to your mom, before you slammed it shut again. 

Ingrid had also said she wanted you to choose what was best for you. And if you were sure about anything, it was that you weren’t ready to talk to your mom, not yet. It didn't come naturally to you, putting yourself first and making a decision that would be best for you, and not for the people around you. BUt you felt you owed it to your sister to be honest. To do what she was asking. Ingrid had done so much for you the last few months. She just wanted you to be happy. And you wanted to be happy, too. More than anything. 

“I… I’m not ready yet. I don’t want to talk to her. Maybe in a few months, but not… not now.” You said quietly. You didn’t seem confident in your decision at all, but Ingrid understood what that insecurity was really about. 

“Okay, Sol. Whatever you want sweetheart. Whatever makes you happiest.” 

You looked up at her, tears welling in your eyes. “Really?” 

Ingrid exhaled sharply, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Really.” 

You nodded your head, before leaning in towards Ingrid. She hugged you tight. 

“I’m really proud of you, Sol. Really proud.” 

You squeezed her tighter. You were proud of you, too.

------- :)

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery VII

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You get in trouble

"Have to be quiet," You whisper as you clip Bagheera's harness on.

It was one of the first things your Mami taught you when you were little.

Bagheera mews at you as you pick her up, pushing her into your backpack. You zip it up but still leave a bit of it open so she can breathe in fresh air. That was another thing Mami taught you.

Animals must have little holes in so they can breathe but not big enough holes that they can escape.

"I've got it, cub," Ingrid says, reaching for your bag but you push her hand away.

"I'm a big girl," You tell her, pulling your backpack on all by yourself," Can carry it myself."

Ingrid laughs, fondly ruffling your mane. "Look at you," She says," So grown up."

"I know."

Your bag is a little heavier than usual but you're very determined. You think if you can prove that you can look after Bagheera by yourself than Ingrid will finally take you to the shelter so you can get your own cat.

"Whoa," Mami laughs as you get out of the car with your backpack," Look at you go, cub. So independent all of a sudden."

"I'm a big girl," You tell Mami just like you told Ingrid.

"Don't grow up too fast," Mami says," Or you'll have to move out soon."

You give her a deadpan stare. "Don't be silly, Mami."

You run off after that. You know Mami and Ingrid are going straight to the field so you duck around the corner and pull Bagheera out of your bag.

She mews at you a few times as you finally work out how to clip her leash to your little belt loops. That means she can't wander off without you.

You're very proud of yourself as you make your way into the locker room, chest puffed out.

"Oh, cub," Patri groans with a little laugh," What have you done?"

You frown. "Nothing!"

"Having the cat doesn't look like nothing," Patri says, very pointedly looking at Bagheera."

"We're having a day out!" You announce," So Ingrid knows I can have a ginger cat too!"

Patri full on laughs now. "You're very sneaky. How did you manage to pull this off?"

"I'm mature," You insist," And me and Bagheera are friends!"

"Come on," Patri says," Let's go to the pitch and see what your mums think of this."

"I want a ginger cat," You say as Patri escorts you to the pitch," And I want it to have a proper tail. Bagheera's got a stumpy tail. I want my cat to have a proper one."

"Cub!" Ingrid's voice yells across the pitch and you instantly know you're in trouble. Ingrid doesn't use that voice a lot with you, her grumpy in trouble voice but she's using it on you now. "Why is Bagheera here?!"

Mami looks angry too, arms crossed over her chest and Patri pushes you forward.

"Tell them what you told me."

You take a big breath. "Showing that I can have a cat too."

"Cub," Ingrid says sternly and you wilt.

You sniffle a little as your throat goes all tight like it does when you're about to cry. "I really want a cat, Mama," You say morosely, digging the tip of your shoe into the ground," Just trying to prove I can look after one."

Ingrid massages her temple in annoyance.

"Cub," Mami says sternly," What you've done is very, very naughty. Do you understand that?"

"Sorry, Mami."

"Very naughty," Mami insists," You could have gotten Bagheera very hurt."

"Sorry."

She takes your hand and leads you over to the corner of the pitch, turning you around so you can't see the rest of the team.

"You're four years old now so that means four minutes in time out. Sit here and think about what you've done."

"I'm sorry, Mami!"

"I know but you're still going in timeout."

Mami doesn't take Bagheera from you and she curls up on your lap as you sit there.

You know you sit there for four minutes but it feels like a lot longer until Mami and Ingrid come over.

They sit in front of you.

"You were very, very naughty," Ingrid says to you," Not telling us you took Bagheera could have gotten her very hurt. Do you understand that?"

You nod.

"That wasn't very responsible," She continues," And it doesn't make me think you deserve a cat of your own."

You burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Mama! I was gonna look after her promise!"

You turn your bag upside down and shake it.

Treats for Bagheera fall out as well as a bottle of water and the collapsible bowl you use for Bagheera's beach trips. You've got a blanket too and toys for if she gets bored.

"Oh, cub," Mami says as she looks at everything.

"Left my bag a little bit open so she could breathe," You insist," And made sure it didn't fall in the car!"

Ingrid still looks mad though. "Cub," She says," Bagheera is a very special part of the family. She might have been scared all alone in your bag, did you think of that?"

You shake your head. "I'm sorry." All you can do is keep apologising.

"I can see that but it was still very naughty of you. Do you understand why?"

You nod.

"Why?"

"'Cause Bagheera could have gotten hurt and I should have told you and Mami."

"Well done for saying sorry," Ingrid says eventually," And well done for knowing what you did was wrong. You did a good job in making sure to pack everything Bagheera will need today."

"We can't do much now that Bagheera is here," Mami continues," So you'll have to take care of her today."

You nod. "I will, Mami."

"And when we get home, we'll discuss your own cat," Ingrid says.

[enwoso]

finish the... | leah williamson x reader

twelve days of christmas | day ten

i apologise for this being so late😅 day 11 will be out soon too🙃

based on this request

the lights were warm and bright as they glared at a couch which had been placed on the inside astro at the training ground.

the couch covered with tinsel and other christmas decorations as a large christmas tree was placed to the side of it adorned with arsenal-red baubles as it was surrounded with wrapped gifts and fake snow giving it a cozy glow.

you sitting on the couch beside your girlfriend leah as you both wore matching christmas sweaters that had been given to you, ironically they were christmas jumpers of each other.

yours having leah's face on it with big white block letters saying, 'merry christmas and a happy new leah' where as leah's was a one with your face on with reindeer ears and a red nose. 

"oh they could of used a better photo than that" you sulked as you saw the photo on leah's jumper, as a small chuckle came from her as she threw the camera operator a thumbs up signalling you were both ready to begin the filming.

leah leaned back, as she rested her elbows on the sofas armrest looking effortlessly relaxed — but you could already sense her competitive energy as it radiated off of her.

"welcome to the arsenal christmas challenge! i'm y/n l/n and she's leah williamson and we are going to go head to head in some classic christmas games" you smiled reading the lines in your head, you'd been asked to say before starting the filming.

"you ready?" you glanced over to leah who sat with a smirk plastered across her lips, you reaching over to grab the card off the producer. "oh baby i was born ready" leah quipped back as you scoffed. 

you rolled your eyes, grinning. "careful, williamson. confidence is a slippery slope." 

leah clapped her hands together, picking up the card which has the first game on it, "first up is christmas trivia, first one to answer gets the point. thats easy, right”

leah placed the card back down looking to the person behind the camera who was going to be telling you the questions, a look of determination flashing in her eyes as you nodded, "lets go!"

question one; 'what year was home alone released?'

"1990!" you blurted out slapping your hand over your mouth as you realised you went to early, a disapproving glare on leah's face, as you hadn't even gave her a chance to think about the question.

"how on earth did you- is someone telling you the answers?" leah asked as she looked around the team who was filming, as you shook your head giggling.

"no i'm just faster than you"

question two; 'what is the name of the grinch's dog?'

"max!" leah yelled out fast before the question had even ended, a small fist pumping up as small win, you now with the glare as you leant forward on the couch full concentration mode coming out. 

"it's on williamson!"

the trivia went back and forth, with leah's competitiveness driving her to blurt out answers faster and faster - the whole concept of a buzzer sound had gone out the window as you were both trying to answer the question before it had even been fully asked.  

when leah shouted “frosty!” in response to a question about rudolph you were gone and belly laughing for a good five minutes.

“le- not, not every answer is frosty” you got out through giggles as leah sat with a playful pout, “i’m just covering my bases” she whispered quietly.

leah won the trivia by a margin which in your opinion would say she slightly cheater that and the fact you didn’t want to boost the blondes ego any more by telling her she won fair and square.

the second game was guess the christmas song, the team would play ten seconds of a christmas song and you both would have buzzers and had to guess the title.

the first few notes of the song played both you sitting with fierce concentration faces, but out of no where leah smacked the buzzer with such force you were sure she could have smashed it.

“jingle bell rock!” she declared, rushing out the words it mumbled into one. you turning to look at the blonde wondering how she got it from the two notes that had played.

‘correct!’

“the poor buzzer” you teased, glancing at it with a pout as leah gave you pointed look as she shrugged. “it got me the point so i’m sure it’ll be okay”

the next song began and this time you were able to buzz in confidently — before leah. “last christmas!”

‘correct’

the game carried on and after getting the first couple right you got into a groove and were getting most right managing to secure the win over your determined girlfriend who was now sat with a deepened frown.

“you’ve been studying for this haven’t you” leah accused as you gasp playfully rolling your eyes, “i just know my christmas songs” you shrugged causally as you listened in to the tie breaker as the score was currently one:one.

the tie breaker was whoever could wrap the gift the fastest wins.

moving to a table where two identical gift-wrapping setups awaited. leah immediately moving the tape and wrapping paper closer to her reach.

“ay move it back williamson” you pointed as your grumbled moving it back to it’s original place in the middle of the table.

the team behind the cameras counted down and once the word go was said, leah’s movements were fast and frantic.

“slow and steady wins the race," you teased, carefully folding your wrapping paper as you glanced over to see the mess which had occurred on leah’s side of the table.

“yeah? let's see if slow and steady beats a winner's mindset love," leah shot back, sticking a piece of tape to her forehead in her rush. “can i have the scissors?” she asked as you were carefully using them to cut the wrapping paper.

“in a minute” you mumbled, your tongue sticking out as your were concentrating. you could go a little faster than you were but part of you was finding joy in slowing your girlfriend’s rush down.

“i’m gettin’ annoyed now” she grumbled as she reached over to grab the scissor which admittedly you did place furthest away from her.

“oh- sorry did you want them” you teased as she shot you warning glare as you giggled a little carrying on with your careful wrapping.

but somehow, despite her chaotic method, leah finished first—though her present looked like it had been wrapped by a toddler while yours actually looked worth opening so who was the real winner…

"done!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in victory.

the team behind the camera inspected both presents, laughing. "well, leah's is...creative, but technically she wins on speed."

leah fist-pumped again. "knew it!"

you shook your head, laughing. "fine, you win this time. but next year, it's on."

leah slung an arm around your shoulders, still grinning from ear to ear. "next year, i’ll win again. but you can keep pretending it'll be close darlin’."

the cameras cut, and as the crew began to pack up, leah leaned in close. "good game," she said softly, her competitiveness giving way to affection. as she placed a soft kiss to the side of your face.

"good game," you echoed, smiling. "even if your wrapping skills are atrocious."

"hey, at least i've got charm," she replied, bumping her shoulder against yours. “your lucky i love you” you smiled as you pecked her lips, as she carried your water bottle for you as you began to walk off set hand in hand

you couldn't help but think that the holidays were even better with leah by your side—even if she was a bit too competitive for her own good.

[taro-pdf]

DCxDP: De-aged Danny is a Eldritch Little Ball of Mischief

This was not how Danny envisioned his evening going. Who knew that not only did an immortal ancient fae not only live in the infinite realms, but it also really didn’t like it when Danny told it that it couldn’t go around usurping other Kings’ kingdoms for funsies? Not Danny. Until about an hour ago that is. When the Observents observed the imbalance, they had told him about it. Apparently it was important enough to literally bury him in envelopes. Well, it wouldn’t be a bad thing to get away from paperwork for a while, Danny had thought. It turned out to be a much more difficult task than he’d anticipated.

Lucky for Danny, he’d just won the not-so-little spat and the fae capitulated in the end, agreeing to maintain but not expand the boundaries of its haunt. Unlucky for Danny, there was a different neverborn fast approaching, and from its posture, it was not wanting to just have tea. Taking just enough time to send out a “hurt/portaling away/talk later/careful” core message to his Fraid, Danny pushed the ectoplasm in front of him to the side and willed the Realms to take him somewhere safe. 

The swirling green energy was a relief. The Realms all but pushed him inside, and he fell through time and space, getting smaller and smaller to conserve the little ectoplasm he had left. He slid to the ground with a sigh. All he saw before the world faded was an overcast sky framed by the edges of apartment buildings.

****

Danny slowly woke up. The first thing he noticed was the gravel he lay on. It shifted beneath as he rolled over, bits clinging to his skin where he had been touching the ground. The second thing he noticed was the smell. The third thing he noticed was that there was a lot of noise coming from somewhere. He wrinkled his nose and sat up, rubbing at his eyes with his tiny hands.

Tiny hands?

Danny looked at his hands. They were indeed tiny.

He opened and closed his tiny baby hands experimentally. They made adorable little fists, but weren’t they supposed to make big fists? How big were his hands supposed to be again? He looked at his body. His hands seemed to be the right size compared to the rest of himself, so he decided to not worry about it.

What he would worry about was his immediate comfort, and the thing bothering him most was Why Did It Smell So Bad. He pushed himself into a sitting position and then floated just of the ground. He frowned at the metal wall in front of himself. Taking a few steps back, he saw it was a dumpster… which explained the smell, at least. So what was the noise? 

Peering around the dumpster, Danny saw a very small, colorful car, and the door opened to reveal a clown who shouldn’t be able to fit into such a small place. He laughed maniacally, just loud enough to cover the sounds of distress from nearby people. 

“Well, well, well, Batsy! Seems your little Arkham fun house can’t hold all this FUN!” Arms spread wide, a clown extricated himself from the car and walked forward, eyes fixed on something above him. “I think someone needs to remind Gotham how to live a little, wouldn’t you agree? Why don’t you all SMILE for me?”

He threw his head back and cackled. The sound sent shivers through Danny’s body and made him flatten his ears. Ears? He glanced up and didn’t see anything. When he patted his head with his tiny adorable hands, though, he found that he did indeed have soft pointy ears. Which was… something that he probably should have feelings about.

The sound of confetti popping drew his attention away from his (maybe new) ears back to the events outside. The bystanders were smiling now, tears streaming down their cheeks. Another pop of confetti, and their smiles stretched wider. They didn’t seem to be actually smiling. Danny watched as less colorful clowns brought more people up the laughing one. He reached into the car and pulled out another confetti popper. Danny frowned. It wasn’t right to make people feel scared, and it wasn’t right to make them smile if they didn’t want to, either. Danny may be small, but at least he knew that! He started forward. The clown was big but no matter how big you were, sharp teeth still hurt. Danny licked his lips. His teeth were very sharp. Changing his tail to less noticeable little legs and little feet, he crept forward.

As he opened his mouth to BITE that horrible no good very bad clown, he was snatched up and yote! Yote from one pair of big hands to another! They wrapped up his writhing form in a firm, one armed hug and then swung him away from the clown, away from the ground, and onto the roof, where he was unceremoniously plopped down. He blinked.

He blinked again. There were other people on the roof. Some were crying. Some were smiling. Some were standing and looking over the edge. Person Who Grabbed him was one of those. Person Dressed Like A Traffic Light was another.

“He doesn’t seem affected, but he might bite,” said grabbed.

“Tt. I will be able to handle the small child. What do you take me for?” Traffic Light uncrossed his arms, pulled something from his belt, and threw it with practiced ease. Danny heard a “oof” and then thud as someone’s body thumped to the ground. Traffic Light had hurt someone!

“No! Don’t hurt!” Danny lunged for Traffic Light’s elbow, only to be grabbed by Grabbed again!

“Woah, little one!” Grabbed wore a mask, but Danny could still see his smile. “We’re taking care of the bad clowns. They are hurting people, and we want them to stop.”

“Ok,” said Danny. He didn’t like the clowns. They could get very hurt for all he cared.

(started a long time ago and unfinished)

[soleilpinto]

DRS = Defining Relationship Status?: Pit Stop to Something Real °‧🫐𐙚⭒

“Defining Relationship Status Zone” 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

Synopsis: Motorsport fan and model, Y/n, and her thirst-filled tweets about Franco catch his attention, sparking a hilarious online banter that goes viral. As their playful exchanges become real connections, fans and media can’t get enough—will their chemistry survive offline?

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slowburn, (Slight) Angst

AU: Social Media AU!

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Unserious behavior, (some) inaccuracies bc lets face it, even if you are an F1 fan you still get things wrong (😭)

Note: I’m loving this series so far, so I’m really happy for the positive responses from you all! As always don’t forget to like + reblog as a form of support to me and other writers!

DRS Masterlist. (PREV./NEXT.)

liked by francolapinto, elenavalor and others.

ynbardot peep the last slide bc i won ���

alex_albon you only won bc franco kept defending in front of me as if his entire life depended on it

— ynbardot lilymhe PLEASE COLLECT HIM

— lilymhe 😭

francolapinto got your first win and i got to be on the podium with you 😋

— ynbardot defending me with your life is crazy work but i appreciate it

liked by ynbardot, williamsracing and others.

francolapinto Finde muy duro pero contento con el trabajo en equipo, gracias @.williamsracing por seguir dándolo todo!

a seguir así y los puntos van a llegar solos. buena carrera, al lado de los puntos en una de las carreras más duras del año para nosotros..

Cosas por seguir puliendo pero vamos por buen camino 🤝🏼🤠🇦🇷

williamsracing Vamos, Franco 👏

ynbardot plot twist: the real reason franco's so fast on track is because he’s racing home to me 😋

— francolapinto 😉

@racevibes GUYS CHECK Y/N'S STORY ??? ARE SHE AND FRANCO GOING TO AUSTIN TOGETHER ???

@apexchaser yup they're definitely dating 100%

—

The cabin lights dim as the plane levels out, the soft hum of the engines lulling most passengers into quiet murmurs or peaceful slumber. You, however, are glued to your phone, scrolling through the latest flood of notifications.

“‘Imagine sitting next to Franco Colapinto on a flight. I’d develop a fear of landing,’” you read aloud, snorting as you nudge Franco with your elbow.

He glances over from his spot next to you, raising an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know what that means?”

“It means,” you reply with a grin, holding up the phone and shaking it from side to side for him to see, “that the fans have no chill. None at all.”

He shakes his head, a soft laugh escaping him. “You’re way too entertained by this.”

“Can you blame me? They’re hilarious.” You scroll further, giggling at another comment. “‘She’s living the dream. I’d give my left kidney for that seat.’ No pressure, right?”

Franco smirks, leaning back in his seat. “At least they’re creative. I’ll give them that.”

As you laugh, though, a different notification catches your eye. It’s a post from Daniel Ricciardo’s fan account, a clip from his last race. The caption reads, “The end of an era. Thank you for everything, Daniel.” The humor drains from your face, replaced by a familiar ache in your chest.

You're suddenly hit with a wave of emotions, reminded of your favorite driver, who's always felt like an older brother to you. 'Austin, he loved it so much there. It's too bad that he left me questioning that night, even though we all knew it was coming,' you thought sadly.

Franco notices the shift immediately. “What is it?” he asks, his tone softening.

You sigh, setting your phone down. “It’s Daniel. I know it’s been a few days, but it still feels… wrong. Like, how is it his last race? How does that chapter just end?”

Franco leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he looks at you. “You two are close, right?”

You nod, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. He’s been like an older brother to me. Always checking in, always making me laugh—even when I didn’t want to. He’s one of the reasons I love this sport so much. I can’t imagine being in Austin without him.”

Franco watches you for a moment before speaking. “I get it. He’s one of the good ones. It’s hard to let go of someone like that—on or off the track.”

“Exactly,” you say, your voice cracking slightly. “He deserved a better send-off. Not like this.”

Franco hesitates for a moment, then reaches out, his hand brushing yours. “You know what he’d say if he were here, right?”

“What?” you ask, glancing at him.

“He’d tell you to stop sulking, grab a taco, and drink a stupidly overpriced coffee in his honor,” Franco says with a small grin. “Because that’s what legends do—they leave behind memories that make you smile, even when it hurts.”

You can’t help but laugh at the thought, wiping away a stray tear. “That does sound like something he’d say.”

Franco leans back, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. “So, when we land, tacos on me. For Daniel.”

You grin. “For Daniel. But only if you let me pick the place.”

“Deal,” he replies, giving you a mock-serious nod. “Anything for the plot.”

You laugh again, the ache in your chest easing just a little. Franco glances at you, a soft smile on his lips. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you, you know.”

You glance out the window, the clouds glowing faintly in the moonlight. “I’m lucky to have him, too.”

And as the plane carries you closer to Austin, you make a silent promise: tacos, overpriced coffee, and memories—because Daniel wouldn’t have it any other way.

@paddockpower franco and y/n fake dating for “clout” but looking like they’re on their honeymoon in the paddock. i’m losing it.

@racingheartsxx every time i think i've processed y/n and franco, a new picture drops and i spiral all over again. they’re SO 😭😭😭

@feederfrenzy they’re literally living in my delusions rent-free. FRANCO AND Y/N, YOU WILL PAY FOR MY THERAPY.

—

The Texas sun beams down on the paddock as the crowd buzzes with energy. The air hums with excitement, the kind that only comes with a Grand Prix weekend. You adjust your sunglasses, trying to blend into the chaos around you, but walking next to Franco makes that borderline impossible.

Photographers start snapping photos of you, but with Franco beside you, you momentarily forget that you are also someone people recognize. “Are they looking at me, or are they just trying to figure out who you are?” Franco jokes, his easy smirk firmly in place as he fixes his hair so it's out of his face.

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully. “They know exactly who you are. Don’t act like you’re not eating this up.”

He chuckles, the sound low and warm, as a group of fans catches sight of you both. One of them—a girl holding a sign with Franco’s name scrawled across it—gasps audibly, nudging her friend.

“Oh my god, it’s him!” she whispers, not-so-quietly.

Franco notices and slows his pace, glancing at you. “Should we go say hi?”

“You’re the star,” you reply with a grin. “Lead the way, Mr. Colapinto.”

As the two of you approach, the small group erupts into giggles and nervous chatter. “Hi,” Franco says, flashing them his signature smile. “You guys enjoying the day so far?”

“Yes! And we’re so glad to see you here!” one of the girls blurts out before her gaze shifts to you. Her eyes widen. “Wait… Y/N?”

You freeze for half a second, then smile. “Hi! Nice to meet you.”

“You’re so pretty in real life!” she says, her enthusiasm spilling over. “And are you guys… together-together? Or is it just, you know… the internet talking?”

Franco raises an eyebrow at you, his smirk teasing, while you internally curse the universe for putting you in this situation. “Oh, we’re just keeping things casual,” you say smoothly, tilting your head with a practiced smile. “But thanks for the compliment!”

“Casual?” the girl echoes, her tone laced with curiosity as her eyes dart between the two of you.

Franco leans in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to sound conspiratorial. “She’s being modest.” He winks, earning a chorus of giggles from the group.

You shoot him a look but decide to play along, shrugging. “You know how it is. Race weekends are busy.”

Another fan gasps softly. “Wait, are you guys official? Or is it just, like… new?”

Franco chuckles, glancing at you as if waiting for you to answer. You cross your arms and roll your eyes playfully. “Let’s just say… we’re figuring it out.”

The group erupts into muffled squeals, clearly eating up the act. “Can we get a photo with both of you?” one of them asks shyly.

“Of course,” Franco replies, stepping closer to you as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand lightly brushes against yours, the casual intimacy of it catching you slightly off guard, but you keep your composure as you smile for the cameras.

“Say ‘power couple!’” Franco quips, making everyone laugh as the phones click.

As you walk away, your shoulders brush for a moment before you instinctively pull back, glancing at him. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Who, me?” he asks, feigning innocence. “I’m just committing to the role.”

“Sure you are,” you mutter, though a small laugh escapes you despite yourself. “You better hope these photos don’t end up all over the internet.”

“Hope?” he teases, flashing you a grin. “I’m counting on it.”

Another group of fans notices the two of you, and Franco turns toward you, his grin widening. “Round two?”

You sigh dramatically but can’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, I’m upping my acting fee.”

“Deal,” he says, holding out his hand as though to seal it. You roll your eyes but shake it anyway, and together, you head toward the next group, stepping perfectly in sync like a couple that has nothing to hide—and everything to sell.

liked by danielricciardo, heidiberger_ and others.

ynbardot keeping it casual in austin

francolapinto the caption is very interesting

— ynbardot only a joke between an exclusive group of people

danielricciardo miss you champ

— ynbardot miss you more dr3 !! texas will always be yours

heidiberger_ enchanté pop up and we'll be expecting you!

— ynbardot WILL BE THERE !!

@kindajealoustbh y/n, sweetie, i love you, but respectfully… MOVE. franco belongs to the fans. we’re suffering over here.

@boxboxbutton y/n pretending she doesn’t know she’s living all our dreams??? girl, GIVE ME THE DETAILS. i need a 10-step guide to manifest Franco

@rearwingromance franco and y/n are so flirty it hurts. i want to hate her, but honestly… she’s kind of iconic for pulling this off.

@overtake_obsessed if this “casual” thing turns into them actually dating, I’m throwing my phone into the ocean. like… LET US BREATHE.

The restaurant buzzes with the lively chatter of drivers unwinding after a long day. You sit across from Franco, flanked by Charles and Pierre, who are in the middle of a heated debate about pizza toppings. Next to Franco, Oscar chuckles quietly, occasionally throwing in a sarcastic comment to stoke the fire. Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, adds fuel to the fire with her own strong opinions.

Next to you, Kika giggles as Lando and Alex dramatically defend why just cheese on pizza is not a good mix. “You’re outnumbered, Charles,” Lily teases, holding her hand up for a high-five with Lando. “Pepperoni is the best topping.”

“I expected betrayal from Lando, but not from you,” Charles replies with mock indignation, causing another round of laughter. Alexandra, Rebecca, and Carlos join in on the laughter.

You shake your head, grinning, and nudge Franco under the table. “Look at this chaos. Are you going to save Charles or throw him under the bus?”

Franco smirks, leaning back in his chair as all eyes turn to him. “I feel like pepperoni pizza is more of a genius idea. Obviously.”

“Traitor!” Charles groans, throwing a napkin in Franco’s direction.

Lily and Lando cheer in triumph while you laugh, leaning closer to Franco as if to conspire. “Didn’t know you had such strong food opinions. I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

��I like to keep you on your toes,” he replies casually, but his stomach does a weird flip when you smile at him.

The conversation shifts, plates of food and drinks passing around the table as laughter fills the air. But Franco’s focus keeps drifting back to you. Every time you speak, his attention locks onto you like it’s magnetic—the way you gesture animatedly, the soft laugh you share with Rebecca and Kika, the quick wit you use to tease Alex or George when they say a corny joke.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Alex notes, leaning slightly toward Franco. “Everything good?” Franco blinks, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, just taking it all in.” Alex gives him a knowing look but doesn’t push, returning to his conversation with Lily.

“You sure you’re okay?” you ask softly, catching Franco’s eye from across the table. Your tone is light, but there’s a hint of genuine concern in your gaze.

Franco clears his throat, trying to play it off. “Yeah, of course. Just… thinking about dessert.”

“Thinking about dessert?” Kika interjects, her tone playful. “You’ve been staring at Y/N for half the night, Franco. Is she on the menu?”

Your eyes widen, and Franco’s ears burn as laughter erupts around the table. “Kika!” you exclaim, covering your face with your hands, though you’re laughing.

Franco fights the urge to bury his face in his own hands. “Can we order something to distract everyone, please?”

Lily, ever the peacemaker, jumps in. “Alright, let’s get dessert before Franco melts into a puddle.”

By the time dessert arrives, Franco’s discomfort has faded, replaced by something else entirely. Watching you interact with everyone—your warmth, your humor, the way you instinctively refill his water glass without a second thought—makes something click in his chest.

He’s in trouble.

As Charles launches into a passionate defense of tiramisu, Franco leans slightly toward Oscar. “Can you pass the sugar?”

Oscar doesn’t move, just raises an eyebrow. “It’s right in front of you.”

Franco mutters a quiet thanks, and Oscar smirks knowingly, his eyes flicking between you and Franco.

“Good luck with that,” Oscar whispers.

“What are you talking about?” Franco whispers back, feigning confusion. Oscar doesn’t answer, just shakes his head with a small laugh.

When you glance at Franco again, he feels like he’s caught red-handed. “You sure you’re okay?” you ask softly, leaning closer so only he can hear.

Franco hesitates, his pulse quickening. “I’m just… realizing something,” he admits, his voice low and almost teasing.

“Oh?” You tilt your head, curiosity sparking in your eyes. “Care to share?” Before he can respond, Lando interjects with another joke that has everyone laughing, pulling your attention away.

Franco leans back in his chair, watching you laugh, your shoulders shaking as Kika leans against you for support. The noise of the restaurant fades, and for the first time, he understands what people mean when they say someone can light up a room.

He’s falling for you. Judging by the way you glance back at him when no one’s looking, he wonders if you feel it too.

© soleilpinto 24’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Eight - Deep into the hole

“I can't believe this is happening. What do you think happened to him?” Amelie asks, looking more than a little worked up.

“I really don't know…” You lie. It feels awful lying to her, but telling her the truth would be far worse. Why did you ever have to cross paths with Lestat?

“I can't believe it.” She says again.

You focus on making the coffee. There was very little chance of you getting any sleep right now anyway. You pour two cups and hand one to Amelie. She takes it with a soft ‘thank you.’

“You know… you were the last person I saw him with…”

You look at her. “Please tell me you're not accusing me of anything. Amelie, I don't know where he is.” 

“I know. I was just saying…” The tone of her voice leaves you a little unconvinced. There's doubt lingering in your mind and for the first time ever you're left wondering who your real friends might be.

“I'm a lot of things, but a murderer ain't one.”

Amelie seems to realize how her words had sounded and moves closer to you. She reaches out for your hand and sighs loudly. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. I've just been thinking too much.”

“I know. I'm sorry. Please don't let whatever is happening come between us. You're one of the few people I have.”

Amelie puts down her coffee so she can hug you. You return the gesture, but doubt is still eating away at your mind.

‘Come to me, Chéri.’

You hear him in your head. He was probably disappointed you had left. You needed time to think before you went back. There was too much going on.

You wake suddenly. Light is illuminating your room through your curtains. Amelie is fast asleep on your couch and you're curled up in a chair beside her. Two forgotten cups of coffee sit on the table.

Your head pounds as you get up out of the chair. You take a few moments to gather yourself and then start cleaning up. Amelie only stirs after you start filling the sink with water to wash up with.

“What time is it?” She asks, stretching.

“Noon.”

“Oh no! I'm supposed to be at the theater to answer questions about Noah. Damn it. I have to go.” She scrambles to get up.

“Wait a minute.” You wipe your hands and walk over to her. “What do you mean?”

“The police were going to go back to the theater today to ask questions. I promised Jack I'd be there.”

You feel an uneasy feeling in your body. “I'll take you.”

Arriving at the theater, you only see one police car parked outside. It gives you a feeling of dread as you look at it. Amelie leads the way inside.

All the performers are gathered in the lobby. They're all talking amongst each other. Through the commotion you can see Jack talking to two officers. After a few moments he turns to everyone and steps up on a chair.

“Quiet!”

Everyone falls silent. Jack turns to the officers. The tallest of the two steps forward. “We're here to enquire about Noah. It would seem his disappearance holds more questions than answers. One by one we're going to take you into the theater and ask you questions. If anyone knows anything about where he may be, dead or alive, please come forward.”

It feels like it gets harder to breathe.

The shorter officer steps forward and calls the first name. While they go inside, the rest of the crew all begin talking again. They're all trying to figure out what's happening. Jack gets bombarded with questions.

You take a seat on one of the small couches in the lobby. Amelie turns and looks at you quietly. She walks over and takes a seat beside you. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just… can't believe this is happening. Do they really think something happened to Noah?”

“His sister certainly thinks so. She went to his place and all his stuff was still there, but the door was locked. Reckon he was taken or something before he even got home.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Was Lestat even going to do anything about all of this? He knows what's happening. He surely knows how much trouble you're in. Then again, can the police even connect you with Noah's disappearance. No one actually saw you with him alone. Lestat came in quick at the time and took him just as fast.

There's no evidence you were with him after the show.

One by one more performers were called into the theater. The ones who have been questioned already get asked to leave immediately. You watch each of them head on home.

Jack comes over to you after half the lobby is empty. He sees you with Amelie.

“I didn't realize you were. You don't need to be here.”

You look up at him. “Don't they want to question everyone?”

“Yes, but you're clear.”

You furrow your brows at him. “What do you mean I'm clear?”

“I already told the police that after the incident on stage, you left and Noah came to me. You were gone before the end of the show.”

“What?”

“Noah came to talk to me after you left the stage that night. I don't know where he went after, but when I came to your room, you were already gone.”

Jack doesn't know about the brief altercation in your dressing room. It really did happen too quickly for anyone to notice.

“Oh, I see.”

Jack places a hand on your shoulder in support. “You look tired. Go home.”

“No, let me stay.”

The short officer comes out to call for the next person when he sees you and Jack. He walks over and checks his list. “You're the pianist.”

“That's right.”

“Jack has already cleared up your whereabouts, but may we ask you some questions?”

Jack goes to interfere, but you're faster. “Of course. I'll come with you now.”

Jack looks at you with a column expression and watches you go with the officer.

Amelie looks up at him. “She'll be fine. She always is.”

“I know.”

Inside the theater you make your way to where the tall officer is. He's writing some things down. As you approach he looks up.

“This is the pianist Jack mentioned,” the other officer said.

“Oh. Wasn't expecting you here today.”

“I want to help if I can.” You tell him.

He nods. “I'm officer Michaels. That's officer Jackson. Take a seat, ma'am.”

You sit down beside him.

“Did you know Noah?” He asks.

“Not very well. He came to the theater to perform. Jack had suggested we do a duet, but I declined.”

“Yes, I heard as much. May we ask why?”

“I perform alone. I play solo.”

Michaels nods and makes a note of that. He looks at you again. “What happened that night?”

“I was performing. Same as I do every Friday. I was only just into my first song when Noah stormed the stage singing his heart out. I was furious, but only because he ruined my music. Not that he was a bad singer, just that I like my music to speak without the need for words.”

Michaels nods again. “Then what happened?”

Lestat happened. But you can't tell him that.

“I left the stage, ending my performance early. I was not in much mood to be made a fool of. I retreated to my dressing room to gather my things.”

“And then?”

“I went home. I was too embarrassed and furious to talk to anyone. I was gone before the show was over. Didn't even say bye to Jack.”

It wasn't a complete lie. It wasn't the whole truth either.

“I see. Jack said as much. He spoke to Noah briefly and then went to check on you after he had the next performer on stage. Your dressing room was empty. No sign of Noah either. You did not leave with him that night?”

“Not at all.”

Michaels makes a note. “Understood. Thank you for your time, ma'am.”

You nod and rise from the seat. However, before you get too far, you turn. “May I ask, what do you think happened to him?”

“I can't say for certain, but it is likely he disappeared after leaving the theater, but before reaching his home. Rest assured, We will find our answers.”

You nod and leave quietly.

By the time you're leaving the theater, Amelie is going in for questioning. You don't stop to talk to anyone, just like the others did before you. You're on your way home when someone comes up beside you.

“Hey there.”

You turn and see Eleanor has joined you. You had just wanted to go home.

“Hello.”

“May I join you for a moment?” She asks kindly.

“Sure.”

You walk in silence for a few moments before she talks. “My brother wrote about you in his letter to me.”

“He did?” You ask, almost worried about what he had said. You felt too involved in something you didn't actually do.

“He said he had the most beautiful piano piece he had ever heard in his life. He had said to me that he was going to sing to that piano one day.”

You look at her. “He really wanted that?”

“Yes. My brother is an admirer of the arts. Music is his passion.” She smiles. “He used to sing to me all the time.

“I see…”

“It's a shame I didn't get to see him sing with you. You'd make a good pair.”

Her comment makes you feel rather sick. You can feel your stomach turning as you walk. You just wanted to go home and disappear for a few days.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… tired.”

She seems to fall for your lie and loops her arm around yours. “Let me walk you home.”

You decide to just let her.

As you walk you drift away with your thoughts. It's still day, so Lestat will be asleep. Should you go visit him at nightfall? Should you just leave him be? Lestat seems like more trouble than he's worth.

Yet, the way he looks at you. The way he held you in his arms and kissed you. You can't deny your attraction to him. Lestat was like a drug you couldn't get enough of. You wanted to see him again.

Though he is still the reason this whole mess has happened.

You were confused on what to do.

Before you know it you're standing on your doorstep. Eleanor lets go of your arm and smiles kindly at you.

“Take care.”

You find yourself smiling softly. “I'll try.”

She walks away slowly, clearly lost in her own thoughts. You can't help watching her go. She shouldn't have come here. Everything would have been fine had she simply not come here.

Too late to do anything about it now.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4 @darkqueen1995 @bridkesby @caribbeangal @sarcasticandfangirl @missjadesfics @kaybart19 @whereismymindnow @chauchirem @angelrenee239 @ppureheroiine

[soaringwide]

PAC: What's next in your love life?

Here is my love ahead spread, where we're going to look into what is coming for you in your love life, having singles or people in non-committed or early stages of the relationship in mind.

The reading doesn't contain any info on gender or orientation.

As always, this is a general reading meant for multiple people, there are only 3 piles, so it might not apply 100% to you. Take what resonates and leave out the rest.

I'm available for private readings and have a ko-fi. Free readings are currently closed at the time of writing this.

PILE 1

Cards: 7 of Pentacles, 7 of Cups, Judgement, the Tower, Knight of Wands, 8 of Swords, the Sun, 4 of Wands, Ace of Cups

We'll start by looking at your current situation regarding your love life.

It seems something has been growing in your love life for a while now. I'm thinking the early stages of a relationship or a crush situation. Zooming out, the growth seems steady, but it's possible that it wasn't so smooth when you look at it on the day to day. Some days might have felt like take 2 steps backward, and the next day you would move forward again. As a result you might be loosing your patience a little, ignoring the fact that things are indeed moving forward, even though not as fast as you want them to, or not exactly the way you want them to. You're eagerly waiting for things to take up speed and finally reach some type of harvest that you've been craving for. I also see you as somewhat passive, waiting for something to happen on its own. You're not necessarily taking any decisive action, but rather going with the flow of things and observing your relationship build slowly. Overall you feel quite impatient.

With the 7 of Cups in the position of things going for you, I think you have a tendency to get lost in your daydreams and illusions, regarding love and love interests. However, you're fully aware of that and actively de-fogging the whole thing. I see you trying to remain realistic and not too much in your head. I think that's a process that you had to learn the hard way. You're learning to pick up on the truth and discard the lies, which is quite painful and not a growth that happens in a straight line. Inside all this mess, there are nuggets of wisdom you're determined to find. It's like, either it helps you clear the way for this specific relationship, or it just makes you a healthier human, which is a win win situation.

However for what's going against you, I think you still have a tendency to put the blame on others instead of understanding that the current situation is your doing. If you're unsatisfied with the pace of things, you have choices. You can either wait and find peace in that, or move on to pursue something else. Whatever it is, don't wallow in misery because you feel frustrated and let resentment boil within you against your person, yourself, or the situation. What I'm trying to say is that you're refusing to make the call and pick a path to follow with determination, and instead you keep going back and forth in your head and creating a terrible emotional state for yourself. If you keep waiting for a sign in a passive and hopeless way, things will not change.

For what to take in in this situation, I see the need for a big wake up call with the Tower. I know this card has a bad rep but I think here it's mostly an indication of the intensity of the shift you need to do. It is paired with the Knight of Wands which is a clear indication that you need to take the reign and pursue what you want, taking a risk that things might collapse as a result. Welcome illusions being stripped away, let go of lies and take the risk to reveal your true self.

I asked for a clarification and got the 8 of Swords, which shines light on this state you need to wake up from: the fact that you keep yourself in a state of powerlessness when you have the means to cut your bonds. Really, this state of stagnancy is your doing and you need to own up to the fact and get out of that hole. Whatever you decide to do, you need to shake things up drastically and take a more active part in your love life.

What you need to release with the Sun, I get the idea that you're a bit too childish and immature when it comes to love matters, or at least in this situation. The card shows a child on a horse, but unlike the knight of wands who is in full control of his mount, the sun-child is merely waving his arms around and not doing much. It looks quite comical and does not embody a serious partner one might want to pursue. So I'm getting again the idea of the need to be more serious and committed, and releasing this naive mindset that things are going to fall on your lap without you doing anything at all.

For the most probably outcome in this situation, with the Four of Wands I was drawn to look up the astrological correspondence of the card and I got Venus in Aries, which is quite funny since Venus is currently in Aries until April 29th 2024 (writing this on the 23rd). I don't necessarily think this means everyone will find an outcome within the next few days, however, it does point out at changes happening presently, or as a direct result of this Venus in Aries season. Which again puts the idea of acting and stop wasting time.

It's also fun because it points at a very fiery approach to love, much like what the Knight of Wands was suggesting. Instead of worrying whether they love you or not, whether you should move on or not, you're being advised to go and find out. With the 4 of Wands as this placement in the tarot, there is an idea of celebration and coming together. The characters on the card are inviting, as if to welcome you in their circle, or hinting at a festive event or a gathering. A positive outcome is definitely possible, and if not, it's the opportunity to move on from heartache and find a better future with your heart unburdened.

The underlying energy is presented by the Ace of Cups, which definitely speaks of an exciting time for romantic feelings, where feelings are being birthed and coming to light. There is opportunity for a renewal in this connection.

PILE 2

Cards: The Devil, the Lovers, the Queen of Swords, Ace of Swords, 8 of Wands, 9 of Cups, the Fool 10 of Cups, 2 of Wands, 6 of Swords, 3 of Cups, 3 of Wands

We'll start by looking at your current situation regarding your love life.

With the Devil as you current situation, it is possible that you're crushing on someone or are in a non-committed relationship with someone that is loaded with sexual energy. However, it also points at an obsessive dynamic in the relationship which fosters an unhealthy atmosphere. It is clarified by the Lovers and the Queen of Swords, so I think there might be someone in this relationship hoping for love, and someone with their walls up, appearing cold and distant, even if there is physical intimacy at play here. It's also possible that the one interested in committed love doesn't respect their own boundaries and let themselves being stringed along.

As to what's going for you, I see you embracing clarity and the desire to cut through bullshit at this point. A part of you wants to reach the truth of this situation and is willing to think about it deeply. Get your sense of agency back by either communicating your needs and fears or by taking the time by yourself to work on that. It's clarified by the 8 of Wands so I see quick communication, heated arguments perhaps but it's for the best because you need to get to the core of the issue.

For what's going against you, I see you clinging onto the good aspects of this relationship, as in, it's not perfect but there's enough pleasurable aspects to it that you don't want to let go of that. You're protective of what you have and I also see you being a bit too carefree by pretending the negative aspects of this situation don't affect you that much, that everything is find and good, even though it isn't. You might be a bit of a hopeless romantic and you just don't want to see that this situation is not bringing you the true happiness that you seek but rather putting you in a unstable and potentially threatening situation. I don't know how to put it but with this + the Devil as significator for this relationship I get toxic vibes from this, but that you're too addicted to it to really snap out of it.

What you need to take in is shown by the 10 of Cups, and I think here it means that you need to find hope again that you're deserving of true and untainted happiness in matters of love. This card is about commitment and romantic, even familial fulfillment, and I think it's important to remember that if that's what you want then you can't settle for less because then you'll never get what your heart truly desires. This card is here to remind you of your dream, stop settling for less and suffocating your true wish.

You need to release your hope that the situation will solve itself without making a choice. I get the idea that you keep imagining how things could be, or would be if X or Y happened, but you're not taking the necessary step towards your wish.

All of this is highlighted by the general energy of the reading, which is all about going back to decision making after a time of hesitation. It's going to be your role to know which decision you need to make and how though, but you need to leave the harbor at some point.

For the outcome of this situation, I see you moving on to better days, letting go of this situation that doesn't fulfill you and going through a very social phase where you're going to either form new connections, or get back in touch with friends and celebrate your newfound freedom. It seems this decision of moving on will bring you a lot more happiness than sorrow. Yes it is painful to let go, but you have much to gain, and seeking different social interactions will help you feel better and get back on track. Perhaps it would help to find the humor in the situation and have fun gossiping about this relationship with your friends in order to vent and get another perspective.

PILE 3

Cards: Wheel of Fortune, the Fool, 3 of Cups, 9 of Cups, Ace of Swords rx, 9 of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, Temperance, 10 of Swords, the High Priestess, 9 of Swords

First off, let's look at your current love life.

For this pile, I don't think there is anyone specific in the picture for you. I see two possible situations depending on the people. Some of you might have experienced a breakup and are now in your new chapter, having left behind that situation and being past that; for others, I see you waiting for a relationship to show up eventually like some big turn of events. In both cases, you have a very open and carefree attitude right now, enjoying the moment and I get the idea that you might be enjoying casual sex as well, for some of you at least. In any case, you are currently not bound to anyone.

For what's going for you, I see you being social, meeting new people or enjoying time with friends. You're just enjoying yourself and your freedom and it's what you feel called to do right now. It seems you really needed to go through that phase in order to feel happier with yourself and find your balance again.

For what's going against you, I see the idea of casual, or at least, superficial connections showing up once more. You might also not be super ready to get into a committed relationship at the moment because you still feel the need to enjoy your freedom and have either multiple partners, or you just want to enjoy your social life without having to compromise or divide the limited time you have in your hands for one person only. I also see that you lack clarity on what you want. Is a committed relationship really what you want, or do you want to keep what you have right now? And if a relationship is what you want, what would it look like? I think you need to take some time reflecting on what romantic happiness looks like to you to see if it aligns with what you're doing.

For what you need to welcome in, there is a message here of reminding yourself that love is not just about sex and intensity, but also about sweetness and complicity. Looking up to your partner because you find them incredible, because they make you feel like a giggly child you can be your true self with. I also see the need to value true and deep emotional connection. There is a need to be the guardian of your fulfillment, not in a warroir-like way, but rather, in a nurturing way. Be the gardener that takes care of their blooming plants with love and care, and by that I mean that you need to put in the energy of what you want to harvest in the future, not just what's easily available in the moment. You also need to be more independent and advocate for your needs.

It's is very important to make way before you can receive anything new. Which means that you need to get clear on what it is that you truly want and release what doesn't align with that. Perhaps you're also quite detached and would benefit from getting in touch with your deeper emotions again. I think you've somewhat been hiding your heavier emotions inside and ignoring them for a while now and that might be what needs to be released.

For outcome, I think there is a deep need for realizing the options you have to choose from regarding your love life, and really take a look at what you truly want. I think this very social phase will come to an end for now, that you will be more focused on yourself and your inner world. This may trigger intense negative feelings that you were ignoring up until now because you were distracting yourself from them. You may need to hit the bottom before you can rise again, but fear not because from there, the only way to go is up. Learn to look for answers within, I think this time has the opportunity to teach you a lot about yourself and help your grow as a person and to gain clarity on your life.

I also wanted to note that there is a striking lack of Wands in this reading, which to me indicates that the main point of work in your situation is not so much taking actions, but processing thoughts and emotions to get clear on what you want and how to get there. A time for self reflection and growth is coming up.

[pagelets]

this is what slow dancing feels like- K.T: part II

Synopsis: Kang Taehyun had always dreamed of becoming a ballet dancer, but his conservative father never allowed him. On his 20th birthday, his mother gifts him with a flight ticket to Paris so he can pursue his dream of joining the Académie Internationale de Danse. Getting into the academy is already a challenge. Surviving in it is even harder. In an attempt to be cast in his favorite ballet production, Taehyun decides to bet all his chips on a rigid, and experienced ballerina— you. On a journey of self growth, not only as a dancer but also as a person, can Taehyun count on you? Or will his big chance slip through his fingers?

Disclaimer: nsfw, contains smut; toxic relationship (feat. Hwang Hyunjin); insecurities/ trauma.

Word count: 10.6k

Note: 2nd part of Taehyun's bday special fic (kinda late, no? 😅) You can read part 1 here.

Taehyun runs through the field like a bullet. Fast and on a fixed course. He can feel the sweat emerging from his warm body. He can feel his lungs burning, almost as if were begging for oxygen. From a distance, he could hear the loud cheers of the crowd. If he sharpened his hearing, he could even hear his father’s voice: ‘C’mon, Tyun! Get that ball into their net! Go!’ . That’s how he felt every soccer match when he was younger. That’s how he feels as he hurries down the hall toward you. He doesn’t know how he’s going to take you out of that bathroom, but he's going to make it, even if it means sacrificing everything.

“Yn! Yn!”, he shouts your name as he approaches the bathrooms. You’re sitting on the cold floor of the female restroom when you hear someone calling out your name, “Is that…Taehyun?!”. You stand suddenly and knock on the door incessantly, “Taehyun! Over here”. He speeds in the direction of your voice, stopping at the door, breathless. “Yn…” Taehyun! Oh My God! Thank God you’re here. Hyunjin, he…” “Yeah, I know, Soojin explained to me”, he rests his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “Don’t worry I’ll take you out. You’re not going to miss your audition”. He looks at the door knob with the pin stuck in its locker, “Good job, Soojin”, then he grabs the door knob and shakes it, “It won’t work. It’s locked” “I know it’s locked. I’m just testing” “Testing what?” “Its roughness” “And…” “This door is going down”. He keeps silent for a few seconds, thinking on what to do.

 Out of nowhere, an idea strikes him,  “Yn, step back. I don’t want you to get hurt” “What are you going to do?” “Just do what I said” “Okay”. "You step away from the door, your legs trembling— there are still traces of the fear of not being rescued lingering in you. “Are you at a safe distance?” “Yes” “Okay, he mutters before stepping back and closing his eyes, His heart almost jumping out of his chest., “Ok, Taehyun, you can do it. You can do it. For Yn”, he takes a deep breath in and with a single strike, he hits the doorknob with a powerful kick, shifting all his body weight forward. The handle trembles, but remains firm, “Fuck” “Did it work?” “Not yet. But it will. Stay back”. Again, he steps back and kicks the doorknob— now with even more strength. He does it again and again till he hears the sound of metal colliding with the floor. He turns around and sees the door opening slowly, revealing your static,frightened, figure. Taehyun sighs in relief and rushes toward you to grab your hand, “Let’s go, you have a presentation to make” “But…” “You can thank me later, there’s no time to waste now”, you nod in agreement and let him drag your body back to the auditorium. 

Soojin is nervously biting her nails as she watches the hall, waiting for you and Taehyun to show up. Her eyes sparkle when she sees your small frame being pulled by her best friend. He has a frown on his forehead, his jaw is clenched, and you are completely clueless why. “Did they already call Yn?” “Not yet” “Good”. Taehyun turns to you, but he’s surprised by a tight hug. He holds you in his arms, trying to hide the pain— the emotional and the physical one, his foot hurts. “Thank you. I don’t know what I was going to do without your help” “It’s okay”. You pull away and look at him as if you were reminded of something really important, “What about your audition!? I’m so sorry I wasn't here to support you”.

Soojin bites her lips as Taehyun starts to speak– his voice is in pain, as if telling you hurt more than actually missing the opportunity, “I… didn't audition” “What?! Why?!” “It was my turn when I went to rescue you” “What?! Why did you come after me?!” “I was worried about you” “Taehyun…” “It’s okay, I think it wasn’t meant to be” “No!”, you take a step back, the guilt consuming every part of your body, from your hair to your toes, “This isn’t how things were supposed to be” “It's okay, really” “No, it's not! Damn!”. You lean your back on the wall and lower your head, “That's why I stay away from people. I just fuck up with their lives. I fucked up everything I had— my parents' marriage, my friendship with Ni-ki, Kai’s life, and now yours! Watch out Soojin, I think you're the next one”. 

Taehyun and Soojin switch a glance, then she walks away. He steps forward to cup your face, he feels guilty for making you feel guilty, “Yn… this is not true. I’m hundred percent sure you didn’t ruin those things” “Yes, I did. I’m so sorry” “Yn, look at me”. You slowly raise your gaze, “I chose to save you cause you, your happiness and well being are more important to me than a role in a ballet performance. It’s now and it’ll always be. Okay?”. You slightly nod in denial, “I don't understand. Taehyun, this is your dream. How can you not be mad?” “You are also my dream, Yn”. Your eyes instantly fill with tears— no one has ever made you feel  like you matter the way Taehyun does. And he does it the same way he breathes— effortlessly and as if his life depended on it. You touch his hands, caressing it with your thumbs, your voice is barely a whisper, “I’ll make you dance as Albrecht, I promise you”. He gazes at you like the parents of a child who still believe in Santa Claus— kindly and with compassion, but without a shred of real hope, “I don't think that's possible anymore”. 

At that moment, the assistant director appears in the hallway. “Next is Yn Yln”. You look at her and then back into Taehyun’s eyes again. “Go! It’s your time to shine.” You nod before kissing the palm of his hand and whispering once more, “I promise.” Then, you leave his arms and walk towards the stage alongside the staff member. Taehyun moves with difficulty toward the stage entrance in the backstage area. His body feels heavy, as if a rain of stones had fallen over his head. He watches you, knowing that the moment you start dancing, all his pain will heal—you have that power to restore whatever is shattered inside him.

Soojin slowly approaches Taehyun from behind and squeezes his shoulders, “Are you okay, Tyun?” “I’ll be. As soon as I see her smiling after getting the part” “Are you sure?” “Yes, Jinnie. She is worth it”. She smirks and pokes his arm,“You’re in real, real trouble, aren’t you?” “Yes. I think I am”. On stage, you feel nervous. Not because of the performance, but because you’re trying to think of a way to save Taehyun from the mess you unintentionally put him in. You clear your throat and begin to speak, “Hi, I’m Yn Yln, and I’m here to audition for Giselle” “Okay, anytime you’re ready”. Hesitantly, you step forward and ask the director directly, “Can I... can I ask you something before we start?” “What is it?” “My friend, Taehyun”, you glance at him and gesture for him to join you. He shakes his head no and whispers, “Yn… don’t”, but you’re not giving up easily. You walk over to him and grab his wrist, ignoring his protest and the sound of his sneakers dragging across the wooden stage floor. 

Even so, you manage to bring him before the teachers, “Kang Taehyun,” you say, pointing to him with both hands, “He was supposed to audition a little earlier”. They look at the list of applicants, searching for his name, “Ah, yes. But he didn’t” “Yes, because he went to rescue me from the bathroom” “From… the bathroom?” “Yes, from the bathroom. Someone locked me in” “I’m sorry, Ms. Yln, but... he missed his chance”. His throat feels like it’s about to close— hearing that makes the pain even worse. He shakes your arm, pleading like he might disappear from the shame, “C’mon, Yn, just let it go” “But… this man is so talented. He’s determined, focused, he learns incredibly fast. He gave everything to prepare for this day, so can you please, please let him audition too?”, voce tenta pela ultima vez, “I’m sorry, but we have a schedule. We must follow it”. You pause, eyes fixed on the seats in the auditorium, as if they could magically give you the answer to all your problems. 

Suddenly, an idea strikes you— a sacrifice for a sacrifice, “Let him audition in my place, then”. His eyes widen, as if you’ve just said the most absurd thing in the world, “No! Yn”, his voice is filled with desperation, but yours is calm, steady— like your final wish in life has just been granted, “Tae, it’s okay. It’s your dream, you can take my place” “I won’t let you. You’re perfect for Giselle” “And you for Albrecht”. He steps closer, the both you’re talking as if the others weren’t even there— just like back in that square in the heart of Paris, it’s just the two of you, “Yn, I don’t want to be Albrecht if you’re not going to be his Giselle”. You smile. He’s so sweet— it feels like he became even sweeter now that he’s allowed himself to connect with his feelings. The way he looks into your eyes, full of tenderness and sincerity, makes the audition lose some of its importance— is it really worth being in this production if the other isn’t there?

A coughing sound from the director snaps you both out of your bubble, “Since you seem to care so much about each other and you’re auditioning for Giselle and Albrecht… and there’s clearly some chemistry here”, you both blush and let out a small laugh, “why don’t you just perform a Pas de Deux? Isso resolve o problema de ambos”. You look at Taehyun, completely ecstatic. He stands there frozen, unable to believe that hope really is the last thing to die, “Yes! That’s just perfect. Right?”, you turn to Taehyun, and he looks at you, “Right” “All right then. When you’re ready”. You take a deep breath and intertwine your fingers with Taehyun for a moment, giving him a gentle squeeze, as if saying without words: We’re in this together. He gives you a subtle nod in acknowledgement.

The music begins, soft and delicate. The first piano notes echo through the empty theater, and everything around you fades away. He takes a step forward and extends his hand to you. Your eyes meet— there’s no nervousness now, just the two of you. You take his hand, his touch is firm and gentle as he guides you to the center of the stage. You begin. Your body flows with the melody, every movement is light, almost ethereal, as if you were flying. He follows with precision and just the necessary strength, but without stealing your glow. He is there to lift you, to support you—to be your foundation, both literally and in every possible sense. When he holds your waist and lifts you, you feel everything stop for a second. There’s no more hesitation, no more insecurity, you trust each other completely— you connect deeply. From above, you see him looking at you, there’s admiration in his eyes, which make you smile. When you come down, he wraps you softly in his arms, somehow reassuring you that he would never let you fall again.

You move apart and then come back together as if your bodies are speaking in a silent dialogue— there’s passion and also care. He spins you gently, and when you fall back into his arms, there is something more than just technique and choreography— there’s love. Even though neither of you has said that word out loud, you both know it’s there. The end is close, you look at each other once more, hearts racing, he holds your hand and lifts it to his lips, as if the scene were real, as if he truly were Albrecht declaring his love to Giselle. You respond with a trembling smile because you feel it too— you know he’s not just acting. The last piano note fades, you remain together, breathless, still holding hands. Silence. Then, a light applause, enough to pull you both back into reality, “Thank you”, the director says, “We’ll be in touch”. 

You and Taehyun look at each other for a moment, before he pulls you offstage, and then into a tight hug. “You were incredible”, he whispers against the curve of your neck, “So were you”, you say back, your voice muffled by his solid chest. Before any of you can say anything else, Soojin comes running and jumps on top of seus corpos fundidos em um, “My two favorite dancers! You were so amazing I almost cried!”. You all laugh together as she hugs you and Taehyun tightly,“You’ll get it, I am hundred percent sure you will. They’d be crazy not to choose you guys”. Taehyun glances at you, and for a second you see that hopeful twinkle in his eyes, the one you love so much. You smile back, feeling the same. Regardless of the result, you had won something far greater on that stage, something no one could ever take away— you had won each other.

Days passed by and the results were finally out. On a sheet of copy paper pinned to the notice board in front of the main auditorium, your future with Taehyun is written. Or at least your future in dance. You are suffocating, surrounded by people eager to find their names on that list, while you search for Taehyun’s and your names. When he arrives, walking calmly down the hallway, watching the crowd dispersing. Some faces glowing with happiness, others melting in frustration— his stomach twists just to think he could be one of those people. Then, he spots you and immediately his anxiety fades. Until he sees Hyunjin approaching you with a look of disdain on his face. 

Taehyun quickens his pace toward you, “Well, well, Yn. Looks like you’ve won for now. But keep your eyes open, sooner or later, you’ll stumble and that little boy won’t be there to catch you”, his voice drips venom, as if he had thought of them with the intention of hurting you. Taehyun clenches his fists tightly and steps forward, anger burning in his chest. He looks into Hyunjin’s eyes, ready to punch his nose, but you quickly place yourself between them, “Calm down, Tae. He’s just jealous because you got the role he wanted”. Taehyun’s body instantly relaxed, his eyes move from Hyunjin’s to yours, filled up with the tears he couldn’t hold back, “You… you’re serious?” “Yes, you made it, Tae. You’re Albrecht” “And you?” “Giselle. Your Giselle”. Without thinking twice, he grabs you and spins you around, making you laugh, “Are you serious, Yn? Really?” “Yes”, he laughs through his tears, a whirlwind of emotions he never felt before.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes before walking away. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he has to settle for the role of Hilarion— the man rejected by Giselle— he is  being rejected by you in real life too. Again. Meanwhile, Taehyun finally puts you down and tries to compose himself. He wipes the tears away, his face now is too close to yours. You watch him, captivated by the pure joy radiating from him. He looks at you, it is the first time he has seen you this absorbed while looking at him. He knows he wants you, and he knows you want him too— it’s written in your eyes, on your forehead, on your lips. Lips. He can’t stand being so far from your lips anymore. So, impulsively, he takes your face in his hands, delicately, as if you were a flower, and leans in, bringing his lips toward yours so slowly it is almost torturous. He is so close, so close you can feel his warm breath brushing against your skin.

Suddenly, an internal alarm sounds inside you. Panic. Why panic if you want him so much? You pull back slightly, breathing heavily, “Taehyun… what are you doing?”. He pushes back just enough to look into your eyes, “Don’t you feel it too?”. You gulp, “We’re… friends”. He gives you one of his gentle smiles, “Friends don’t look at friends the way you look at me. The way we look at each other”. You look away, trying to deny the obvious, “Hey, look at me. What’s wrong?”. You swallow hard but choose to be honest, “I don’t want to lose you”, your voice carries fear, you are terrified of losing him, “You’re not going to lose me” “You’re only saying that because you want to kiss me” “No. I mean it. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere without you” “What if you need to go back to Korea?” “I’ll take you with me. I’ll bake and you’ll entertain the customers with your dancing skills. I don’t know…”, you chuckle, but he is serious— more serious than he had ever been, “I promise, you won’t be alone anymore”. He wet his lips before continuing, “Do you trust me?”.

You stay quiet. Fear always made you hesitate, made you hold yourself back from fully surrendering to others. But with Taehyun, you don’t want to run away anymore. You’re tired of running from the people who love you. What is a life without real connections? Without lasting, meaningful relationships? So, you look into his eyes again and nod firmly, “Yes. I trust you”. He smiles softly before leaning  in once more, this time, his lips finally touch yours, with all the gentleness he has. You had kissed boys before, but none of them, not even Hyunjin, had kissed you like Taehyun does— like you are fragile, like you could break. So delicate, so slow, as if Taehyun didn’t want it to end— not now nor ever.

Taehyun kisses you with an intensity as if the world is about to end and this is the last thing he can do. It’s gentle at first, almost shy, but slowly, something shifts. You feel when he relaxes, when his breath begins to blend with yours. His fingers slide from your cheek to your nape as he pulls you a little closer. You reciprocate, your hands sliding up his shoulders, holding him with the same care he held you with when you danced together. There’s no rush, no urgency, once again— there’s only the two of you. And somehow, this kiss consumes you like never before. It’s not just desire, it’s something deeper as if every second his lips touch yours, he’s saying things he’s never managed to put into words, such as: I care. I’m here. I choose you. I love you.

You feel his heart beating against yours— a strong rhythm, with small explosions bursting in your chests, like fireworks lighting up the sky. For an instant, everything feels right, like this is exactly where you’re meant to be— in his arms. But then, he slowly pulls away, breaking the moment. He still holds your face, his eyes are shining, betraying his anxiety. But there’s something more than just nervousness, it’s something you recognize— because you feel it too. He runs his tongue over his lips, as if savoring the kiss. He smiles softly but looks away, then he laughs a little awkwardly before running his hands through his hair, “I… I need… I need to call my mom”. You blink, surprised, “Now?”, he shrugs, his eyes flickering nervously down the hallway, like he’s searching for an escape route, “Yes, now. She… she wanted to know about the results”. He laughs again, too nervous to hide it, “Right…”, you nod, trying not to laugh as well.

He steps back, scratching the back of his neck, his face flushed, “We’ll… talk later, okay?” “Okay”. He takes a few steps backward, looking at you like he doesn’t actually want to leave, but something in him— maybe the intensity of what just happened, or maybe the way you make him feel like a teenager all over again— makes him turn and hurry down the corridor. You stay there, alone, still dizzy, still feeling his lips on yours. The aftertaste of his kiss, that blend of something sweet, light, sentimental, and yet purely carnal, lingers.

You smile, ‘cause, deep down you know nothing will ever be the same again.

Now that the auditions are over, the dancers are purely focused on rehearsals for the production. It’s already been three weeks, and everything feels like a storm of information. The instructors are strict, but they compliment you and Taehyun— the chemistry between you two is undeniable. And, of course, you don’t need to fake your feelings, you just need to feel them. However, they think Taehyun’s facial expressions still need some work. That’s why you’re both sitting on the studio floor facing each other after hours, doing facial exercises. You raise your eyebrows, furrow your brow, move the corners of your mouth in different directions, and smile in different intensities. And Taehyun, he copies you… or at least he tries. You weren’t supposed to, but you end up laughing at the faces he makes.

“You’re supposed to be helping, not laughing at me” “Sorry”, you say, grabbing your stomach, which hurts from laughing so much, “But you look so funny”. He watches you laughing, you’re so happy that he can’t help but smile too, “Okay, I forgive you. Now, come here”. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer— Taehyun smells fresh. You breathe in the scent of soap and as if some supernatural force pulls you in, you bring your lips to his inviting neck, placing slow, open mouthed kisses on his soft skin.

His grip on your hips tightens, he closes his eyes shut, and he can’t suppress a soft whine. You smirk against his neck, “You like that?”, he nods, his voice barely audible, “I do”. To tease him even more, you let your hands trail down his chest until you reach the hem of his shirt. Then, you slide your hands back up, but this time under his shirt, feeling his toned abs and his warm skin. He’s so hot, it’s almost unfair. With his eyes still closed, his entire body shivers under your touch, “You’re feeling pretty bold today, huh?” “You’re irresistible. What can I do?”, he smirks. “Do you think so?” “Yes”. He wets his lips, leaning forward to press his lips against yours in a hot, intense kiss, filled with lust and desire— a sharp contrast to the pure, calm, and innocent kisses you usually share. 

His hands begin to slide gently down your waist making you sigh in response to the overwhelming flood of oxytocin his touch causes in you. He lays you with your back flat on the floor, his fingers continuing their gentle descent, stopping at the hem of your wrap skirt before lifting and slipping his head underneath it. He leaves a trail of sloppy kisses along your inner thigh, moving toward your core. You gasp, "Taehyun, Taehyun! Wait!", you call out desperately, reaching for his hair to pull him from between your legs. He looks up, “You okay?” “What are you doing?” “What do you think I’m doing?”. You're not innocent— you know exactly what he’s about to do. What worries you is the risk of getting caught, "But… here? What if someone sees us?". He chuckles, you look so cute blushing from embarrassment, "Yn, we’ve been practicing in this room for 2 months. No one’s using this studio until tomorrow, and you know that" "But…".

He replaces his lips with his fingers, trailing them slowly up your thigh, "If you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word”. You bite your lip, feeling his fingers slide in your leotard, moving in slowly while he watches you without blinking. He brushes his fingertips against your clit teasingly, sending a spark of electricity up to your chest, and you can’t help but moan. "So… what’s it gonna be?", he speeds up slightly, "Do you want me to keep going?", then, he slows down almost to a stop, "Or… do you want me to stop?". His voice is husky, making the moment even more seductive, "Please, no! Don’t stop." He smirks— hearing you beg for him makes blood rush to his length,"As you wish," he says, redirecting his focus on your clit. You respond by gripping his hair— this time not to pull him away, but to release the tension building inside of you.

Soon, he retreats his hand, pulling your leotard aside to replace his fingers with his tongue— the swap from something firm and dry to something warm and soft shocks your senses. His heavy, hot breath against your sensitive skin makes you let out a small whine as your body relaxes, even though your heart races as if it’s about to burst. As he increases the speed of the circular motions with his tongue, a familiar sensation builds in your core, climbing through your gut, knotting tightly in your stomach— you’re reaching your edge. "Ah… Taehyun," you moan breathily, "I’m close". He smiles against you, sucking on your clit slowly, more teasingly this time making your hips thrust against his face involuntarily.

The butterflies in your stomach explode into a wave of electricity coursing through your  whole body, your back arches as he grips your hips tightly, keeping you pressed against him while he drinks in every last drop of you. Your moan echoes through the empty studio. He smiles and then kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his lips, "Fuck!" you curse, "You… you’re really good at that". You pant heavily. He pulls away slightly, saying in a deep tone, “We’re not done yet”. You lean on your elbows, trying to understand what he meant, until your eyes fall to his hardened length, “Oh… right!”, you say, getting on your knees, expecting Taehyun to stand. But he doesn’t, he stays there, looking at you with a playful smile on his lips, "What? You’re not getting up?". He stands still, amused, "That’s not what I want you to do". You tilt your head, confused, "Then… what do you want me to do?".

He stands up, extending his hand to you. You take it. Your legs tremble, but with his support, you manage to stand. He guides you to the stretching bars, positioning you in front of the mirror. His hands grip your waist and he lowers his head to kiss your neck. You watch in the reflection as his hands travel to your stomach, then up to your breasts, giving them a light squeeze— he feels you through the thin fabric of your leotard, which makes his member hurt even more. You want to close your eyes and surrender to the pleasure, but you can’t stop watching the way he touches you, it’s almost… addictive. His hands trace up your back, shoulder blades, and neck before reaching your hair. He undoes your low bun, letting your hair fall freely.

The scent of your shampoo fills his senses. He inhales deeply, not letting a single molecule of your scent escape. "Yn… I need you," he murmurs, his voice deep and dripping with desire— so different from his usual tone. Your attention shifts to his boner pressing against the left side of your ass.

"Go ahead," you whisper, needing him just as much. He plants a kiss on your shoulder, "Has any guy ever made you come twice?", you chuckle sarcastically, "Not even once, much less twice”. He smirks, "Then I’m fixing that". This Taehyun is different— almost a devilish version of the angel he usually is. He pulls down his training shorts and boxers just enough for his length to spring free against his stomach. You watch him through the mirror, swallowing hard. He smirks, "Relax. I’ll be gentle." "I don’t know if I believe that”, you say. He meets your eyes in the reflection, curious. "Why’s that?" "You don’t seem like the gentle type in bed." He laughs, "For you, I can be".

With his ego inflated, he slides your leotard off your shoulders, down past your breasts, stopping above your navel. He cups your breasts, drawing a whine from you, then pushes your leotard aside and slowly slides his length into you. He groans, and you moan in unison. With one hand on your lower belly and the other cupping your breast, he begins moving you up and down his member. The way your bodies fit perfectly together— and how easily he finds your sweet spot— makes you believe you were made for each other.

You maintain eye contact through the mirror, and suddenly, nothing else matters— not the sound of skin slapping, not his hot breath against your neck, not your half naked reflections, or even the risk of being caught. What matters is the new kind of intimacy and connection you’re building, here in the same studio where you danced a type of dance completely different from what you’re dancing now. You grip the barre tightly, trying to ease the tension from the overstimulation. He pulls you closer, adjusting the angle of his thrusts. A tingling sensation erupts in your gut once more. Your walls clenches around Taehyun and it feels like your spine is being electrified as you reach your second climax. Your body in a frenzy relaxes all at once. You lean forward, exhausted, while he still tries to reach his own orgasm. He follows right after, releasing everything inside you. He lets out a low, warm and lengthy grunt against your nape.  His body settle down and he has to hold onto the bar to keep himself from collapsing onto the floor or on top of you.

You both take a moment, breathing heavily, completely absorbed in a loop of dopamine and serotonin, simply enjoying each other's presence. Until he lifts his head and places a long kiss on your cheek, "You're perfect. You know that, right?". You smile shyly, loving the feeling of his face pressed against yours, "You're the one who's perfect". He chuckles, "I know I am", then pulls away and gets himself off of you. You roll your eyes and adjust your leotard, covering your chest as you watch Taehyun searching for something in his bag, "What are you doing?", he looks at you and lifts a towel, then walks toward you again, trapping you against the stretching bar. You look into his eyes, the savage version you had just seen in the mirror, is now gone.

He bends down and takes your lips in a soft, delicate kiss, almost as if showing gratitude for your existence, and then moves his hand to your lower body, cleaning up the mess he made. When he pulls away from the kiss, he smiles, "All done" "Who would ever imagine, Kang Taehyun is a guy who cares about aftercare" "Are you being sarcastic?". You giggle, of course you are. He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly, "I wish I could stay here with you, but I need to go get my new pointe shoes for the show" "Want me to go with you?" "Nah, you'll get bored" "With you around?! Impossible". You smile but loosen your grip on his torso. "I'll be fine alone, I need some time to myself” "If that's what you want, it’s fine". You peck his lips again and then escape his embrace to grab your bag.

You leave the room, smiling, feeling deep within your core that something changed— your relationship has now reached a new level, and you don’t want to walk away, you are not afraid of saying. But then, all the calm within you turns into a raging storm when you see a tall, slender figure slowly approaching. The sound of wide steps grows louder, getting closer, and the blur becomes a complete, visible image revealing Riki— Nishimura Riki. Your mind freezes, but your feet do the exact opposite. You grip the strap of your bag tightly and avoid at all costs making eye contact with the man passing by your side. Ni-ki on the other hand looks at you, almost pleading for you to meet his gaze. You don’t notice it, but Taehyun does. Taehyun watches everything. He feels the air growing heavy, the tension nearly suffocating the entire hallway. He sees your avoidance and Ni-ki’s silent plea. That’s strange, Ni-ki is always so kind and adored by everyone at the academy.

The younger man breaks Taehyun’s thoughts, “Hey, man! You got the part, congrats!”, he says with a sincere smile on his face, “Thanks, Ni-ki!” “You can count on me on opening night. I’ll be in the front row, cheering for you”. Taehyun tilts his head, confused, “But you said you didn’t like Giselle”. Ni-ki’s mask cracks and falls on the floor. He clears his throat, looks down at his feet, searching for an excuse, “Well… I… I said that?” “Yeah. When I asked if you were going to audition” “Ah. Yeah, I did”, Taehyun looks at Riki with his eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer, “Well… I like Giselle, it’s just that…” “Just that…?”, Taehyun presses him for an answer, “Yn likes it more”, the words leave his mouth in a rush, like yanking off a band-aid. Taehyun furrows his eyebrows and mumbles, “Yn likes it more? But what…?”, then suddenly, your voice echoes through his head:

‘I fucked up everything I had—my parents marriage, my friendship with Ni-ki, Kai’s life and now yours!’

His mouth forms an ‘o’, realization hitting him— you and Ni-ki used to be friends. But… what happened? “You… okay?”, Riki asks, concerned, as Taehyun stands still, staring into nothing, like a statue, for at least a minute. The older one blinks, then looks at Riki with a sparkle in his eyes, “Hey, Ni-ki, wanna grab a coffee?” “Can I have milk tea?” “Of course, anything you want” “Then yeah, I wanna go” “Great!”.

At the coffee shop, Taehyun brings up what you said on audition day. Ni-ki’s cheerful spirit fades away as he listens to his words, “Can you tell me what happened?”. The Japanese man takes a sip of his milk tea, breathing deeply before answering Taehyun’s question, “Kai, Yn and I, we were just like one. We’ve been friends since Kai and I started at the academy as beginners, 7 years ago. We were so close, the 3 best dancers in the studio. They used to call us the ‘3 pirouettes’”. Taehyun blinks slowly, what type of nickname is that? “The… ‘3 pirouettes’?“ “Yes, like ‘The 3 Musketeers’ “Ah”. Riki continues, “But four years ago, when she was already an intermediate level II, and Kai and I were still intermediate I, like you are now, we… tried something bold” “Bold?” “Yeah” “Like what?” “It was her idea, a challenge. She was learning a ‘Saut de Basque’. And Kai and I wanted to try it too” “Isn’t it too risky?” “Yes, Taehyun, too risky. But we thought we were good enough, that we could do it. We let our ego get the best of us” “But you couldn’t, right?”. Ni-ki nods, his apprehension is so palpable that Taehyun feels a knot tightening in his own throat.

“Kai went first. He made a plié, gained momentum and jumped. He spun in the air with his other foot on his opposite knee— it was beautiful, we thought he was actually flying. But…he pauses, swallowing the tears, “... but unlike a bird, Kai couldn’t land. When he came down on one leg, he…”, Ni-ki’s voice trembles, but he keeps going even with his voice wavering, “He… he lost balance and fell to the side, crashing his head against the floor” “No...”, he nods, “Yes”. The dry sound of the collision, your desperate voice shouting Kai’s name echoing through the studio and the sound of the ambulance siren, still haunted Riki’s mind every time he dared to think about it. “After that, she pulled us away”, he sniffs, no longer able to hold back the tears, “She said she didn’t care about our friendship or about beginners like us”. He closes his eyes and let the scene flow vividly through his mind:

‘ “Why are you doing this, Yn?” Kai asks, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. “Doing what?”, your voice is flat, drained of emotions and dripping with disdain, “Pulling us away” “I just don’t care about beginners like you guys. I have more important things to do than waste my energy on you” “What?! And our friendship?!”. You are not looking at Kai’s face, but you know he’s crying, cause he speaks as if his voice would shatter at any moment. Even so, you go on, “There is no friendship. I was just pretending cause I wanted attention”, you lie, “And this?! Huh?! And this, Yn? Doesn’t this mean anything to you?!”. He holds up the charm bracelet, the only charm is a small broken headpiece that completes yours, Ni-ki’s and his own charms. You want to stop, but your brain doesn’t let you— consumed by fear, “No. It means nothing to me”.

You grab your bracelet and throw it on the hospital floor at Ni-ki’s feet before starting to walk toward the door. But Riki pulls away from the wall he was leaning on and rushes to grab your wrist, tears filling his eyes, “Yn, if you walk out that door without fixing this, you can forget about me” “And also me”, Kai adds. You turn your head toward them and chuckle sarcastically, “Whatever”. It felt like their hearts were stabbed. Ni-ki’s grip loosened on your wrist, and you walked away without looking back. Ni-ki kneels down, picks up your bracelet, and presses it to his chest, letting everything out. Kai stands up carefully and pats his back feeling his own tears falling down his cheeks. 

As you walk down the hall, your face becomes soaked with salty tears. You didn't want things to be like that but it is your curse, ruining their lives— ruining everyone's lives. You can't ruin those who you love. 

But… if you did this for love, then why did it hurt so much?’

“Since then, the most interaction I've had with her has been an awkward exchange of glances in the hallways when she can’t look away in time” “What about Kai? Is he okay?” “Yes, after the accident, he revisited his life choices and decided to go after a childhood dream: opening a flower shop” “That’s lovely” “Yeah, it suits him well”. An idea pops into Taehyun's head. It’s such a good idea that a lightbulb could almost appear above his head, “Do you still talk to each other?” “Yes, sometimes” “Ni-ki, could you help me with something?”. He takes a sip of the milk tea and raises an eyebrow, suspicious, “What?” “I need to talk to Kai” “For what?” “Yn didn’t pull away because she didn’t care about you. She pulled away because she feels guilty. She thinks she ruined your lives”“That sounds like her” “Yeah. Please, help me fix your friendship. She needs it, she needs love and I know the two of you can give it to her” “I don’t know, bro. It’s been so long, maybe we can’t fix things anymore. I tried to do it already but she kept her distance all the time” “Ni-k, I saw the pain in your eyes while you were talking. Please, listen to me, I know that if you guys give Yn another chance, she will make things right this time” “How can I help with that?” “Take me to Kai, and help me convince him to come to the performance” “I don’t think it’ll be easy. He was really hurt” “But I have to try before giving up. Please”, reluctantly, Ni-ki sighs heavily, “Alright, I’ll help you”.

Kai’s flower shop looks like it’s come out of a fairytale. It occupies the ground floor of a classic French building, its soft cream exterior radiating elegance. The windows are expansive, with straight edges at the base and rounded arches at the top, giving them an elegant, yet welcoming look. Beneath the windows, there are two light wooden benches that offer a rustic touch to the pedestrians passing by. Victorian-style metal lanterns hang delicately between the windows and the door, bathing the sidewalk in a warm glow. A delicate arch of soft pink flowers gracefully frames the entrance. Taehyun’s eyes light up at the sight, “Wow! It’s beautiful”, Riki smiles, Taehyun is right, Kai has done an amazing job with the flower shop— it’s like his baby, his most precious treasure. “Shall we go in?” Taehyun nods, his eyes still fixed on the shop’s exterior.

Ni-ki went in first, the small bell above the door announces their arrival. Taehyun stepped up the small step only to discover that the interior is even more charming than the exterior. 

The flower shop is a sanctuary of color and fragrance, as if it had come straight out of the pages of a fairytale book. Bouquets of every kind imaginable, such as roses, daisies, lilies, are neatly arranged in compartments of different sizes, each one thoughtfully arranged to highlight the flowers beauty. The air is fresh, filled with the pleasant floral scent. Behind the counter, a glass door leads to a greenhouse, the glass is slightly blurred from the warmth inside. 

A man as tall as Ni-ki, with light skin, silky, shiny brown locks, and an overall gentle and sweet appearance, is wrapping a floral arrangement next to another man— also tall, but shorter than Kai, with long blonde hair and bright brown eyes. Kai is the first to notice them. “Riki!”, he greets his friend with a bright smile, “What’s up, Kai? Beomgyu?” “Hey, Ni-ki,” the older one greets him in a soft, timid voice. Kai leans over the counter, “What brings you here today?” “This is Taehyun, he’s a dancer too. He wanted to meet you”. Kai’s smile faltered slightly, confused. He turns to Taehyun, extending his hand, “Nice to meet you, Taehyun. How can I help you?”, Taehyun shakes his hand, “Can we talk?” “Of course! Beomgyu, can you take care of the shop for me?” “Okay” “Feel at home, Riki” “Got it”.

The two of them move together toward the greenhouse, which was, in fact, a butterfly garden, “Wow, butterflies! Where did the idea of having butterflies in a flower shop come from?” “They help with pollination. They’re also a symbol of rebirth, that’s what this flower shop is to me”, the owner of the place says, gesturing with his hands as he speaks, “That’s beautiful”,  Kai nods, agreeing,  “So… what do you want to talk about?” “We’re producing Giselle at the academy. I heard you like it a lot”. He nods again, but this time with a sad smile, “Yes… It was my dream to perform Giselle with my two best friends”, he lower his head, “Well… back when we were still friends” “Yn never wanted to hurt you”. Kai lifts his head, totally taken by surprise, “W- what?” “Yn never wanted to distance herself from you guys”. Kai’s jaw tightens, the gentle expression on his face is overtaken by anger, repulse, melancholy— a bitter cocktail of emotions that Taehyun had just served him.

“What do you know about that? You don’t know Yn, she only cares about herself and her precious ballet”, his voice is rough, he’s sounding rude and he doesn’t seem to care about it, “Well… I’m kind of her boyfriend”, Kai’s lips part slightly, another shock, “Boyfriend?”. Tahyun scratches his nape, blushing slightly, “We never made it official, but… our feelings speak by themselves” “Wow” “She distanced herself out of guilt, not selfishness. She blames herself for your accident and she’s afraid, terrified, of hurting the people she loves. And let me tell you, she loves you guys. So much”. He crosses his arms, “Did she say that to you?” “No, but I saw the pain in her eyes when she told me she had ruined your life”. Kai’s arms relaxed a little, as if Taehyun’s words had touched him deep down. Still, he looks away, not entirely convinced, “Even so… I don’t trust her. She destroyed the most valuable thing I had” “Ballet?” “Our friendship”. Taehyun looks at him with pitiful eyes, “Look, Kai…”, but he cut him off, “Please, leave. This conversation is giving me a headache. And I hate headaches”.

The shorter man nods, even though Kai isn’t looking at him. But before leaving, he holds out a ticket for Giselle, “If you ever feel like giving Yn one last chance… come to the opening night. Please”. Kai doesn’t move, so Taehyun slips the ticket into the front pocket of his apron and steps away. As he hears the footsteps fade, Kai breaks down, hot tears rolling down his soft skin. Taehyun had reopened old wounds that had never fully healed.

The opening night has finally arrived. Everyone is dressed in costume, stretching in the backstage area getting ready to perform on stage soon. Taehyun is a bundle of nerves again. Nothing has ever made him this anxious before. Not his father’s disapproval, nor his loss. Not moving all by himself to Paris, nor his first ballet classes. Not practicing with you, auditioning by your side, or even kissing you— nothing is compared to this.

You notice his nervousness, he can’t stay still for a second— he keeps working on his posture, nibbling on the corner of his nails, pacing back and forth. You smile softly and walk over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his turmoil of thoughts. He turns to you and smiles, you look beautiful, dressed as a village girl, more radiant and delicate than ever, “Wow… You’re the most beautiful villager I’ve ever seen”. You giggle, “Not that you’ve seen many” “I doubt any could outshine you”. You poke his chest and blush, “Thanks. Are you nervous?” “More than I’ve ever been in my entire life” “Let me help you with that”.

You take his hands and place them on your chest, right above your heart. He watches every move of yours, eyes fixed, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your breathing. He notices how your heart skips a beat just slightly at his touch, “Feel that?”, you’re talking about your heartbeat, “I feel it”. You nod and move one of his hands to his own chest, “And now? Feel this?” “Yes” “Close your eyes and tell me what you feel”. He obeys, focusing on his senses, especially the touch. His palms feel the rhythm of your heartbeat and his own and for a moment, it’s as if they are in sync. He opens his eyes suddenly, like he’s just witnessed something magical, “Wow” “When you feel nervous, close your eyes and feel your heart beating. Mine will always be beating right alongside yours”. He smiles, the weight of the anxiety loosening— because you are there with him. He holds your waist and pulls you into a hug, murmuring against your hair, “Thank you… I don’t know what I would do without you”. You sink into his chest, savoring the warmth of the moment, “I don’t know what I would do without you either, Tyun”.

Suddenly, the director’s voice cuts the moment, “Alright, everyone! Two minutes! I need you all here!”. Taehyun takes your hand, and you both join the rest of the dancers gathered around the teacher, “Tonight, we present the premiere of our beautiful production of Giselle, adapted from Adolphe Adam’s version, but with our own touch. I know every single one of you has worked incredibly hard to get here. That’s why I’ll only say this: Give it your best tonight, and enjoy yourselves, but always with grace. Let’s go, group hug!”. Everyone closes the big circle around the director for a few seconds until he finally calls it, “Okay, let’s do this! It’s showtime!”. You glance at Taehyun and plant a soft kiss on his cheek, “Let’s do this…” “…together”, he finishes your sentence before letting go of your hand. You watch him walking toward the stage—Taehyun is about to open the show.

The stage is set like a small village nestled in the heart of a forest. Taehyun walks across it, trying to ignore the tight knot in his stomach and the taste of metal on his tongue from chewing the inside of his cheek. His eyes carefully scan the audience, he spots Soojin, Ni-ki, his mother, along with his uncles and cousins, all seated in the front row— he holds himself back from smiling and waving at them. Taking a deep breath, quietly, he tells himself that everything will be alright. And then:

The lights come up, the first act begins.

 Albrecht is a young village man who carries a secret— he is actually a nobleman. The modest clothes are merely a disguise, allowing him to stay close to Giselle, a beautiful village girl who has caught his eye. However, she has not only caught Albrecht’s attention. Hilarion, a huntsman, is also captivated by Giselle’s beauty and magnetic aura.

In the opening moments of the first act, Albrecht’s disguise and his first interaction with Giselle are portrayed. You dance across the stage, curious about the new man in the village, while Taehyun follows you, trying to win your affection. As the performance progresses, Giselle slowly falls under Albrecht’s charm. You spin elegantly in front of Taehyun, he holds your waist and lifts you as you lightly flutter your legs, giving the audience the illusion that you are floating. The lift is light, perfect, and the landing is flawless— you are so proud of him.

Then, Hilarion appears. He tries to warn Giselle that something is wrong with Albrecht and that he is a better choice, but she pushes him away, always returning to her beloved’s arms, until the huntsman finally leaves. Soon after, a celebration begins to honor the love between the protagonists: dancers fill the stage, and a big collective performance takes place. Until… men and women dressed in noble clothes enter the scene, followed by Hilarion. Giselle steps forward, trying to understand what is happening— Hilarion is there to ruin everything by revealing the truth. One of the women extends her hand, showing Giselle a ring on her finger, Albrecht has more than just one secret— he is engaged to Bathilde.

You look at Taehyun, then back at the ring like everything you knew had been torn apart. He steps forward with his arms stretched, trying to explain, but there is nothing to explain—he is a liar, a traitor. The man you love belongs to someone else. And it hurts. It hurts so much to be struck like this. Giselle cannot bear the pain and feels madness consuming her. You dance frantically— you laugh, you cry, you want to hit Albrecht, you want to kiss him. Your hair comes undone from its once perfect bun, until you collapse to the ground. Cause of death: a broken heart.

Hyunjin points at Taehyun, accusingly. They approach each other, their eyes locked— there is no need to fake the anger they feel toward one another, it’s all real. Albrecht picks up the sword from the ground, lifts his leg high and challenges Hilarion. They spin across the stage, performing a swordfight, until Taehyun corners him. At this moment, Albrecht is supposed to drive the sword under his opponent’s arm and kill Hilarion. Or at least, that is what should have happened. But Hyunjin plays dirty, freeing himself with a pirouette before pointing his sword at Taehyun’s neck, making him fall. Hyunjin smirks, “Game over, Albrecht”. You fight the urge to get up and rip his head off.

The instructors exchange worried glances as the performance starts to spiral out of control. Taehyun rests his head on the stage floor and closes his eyes, remembering what you told him earlier:

“If you get nervous, just take a deep breath and imagine our hearts beating in sync”.

Thump-thump

Thump-thump

“Do it for her, Taehyun”.

Suddenly, he feels a rush of energy. He opens his eyes, grabs his sword, locks it with Hyunjin’s, and pushes him back to stand up. The older one stumbles backward, his brows furrowed, “Ah! You’re so fucking annoying”, he mutters under his breath. Taehyun points his sword at Hyunjin and quietly says, “Let’s put an end to this once and for all”. Hyunjin attempts the first strike, but Taehyun deflects it with a graceful spin. Hyunjin strikes again, jumping high, clashing his legs together, but Taehyun does a grand jete, twirling across the stage like a leaf carried by the wind. The other man chases him. 

“It’s okay, Taehyun, you can do this”.

He takes a deep breath and performs the jump that ended Kai’s ballet career, landing gracefully behind Hyunjin and driving the sword under his arm. Hyunjin has no choice but to fall to his knees dramatically and accept defeat. Albrecht has killed Hilarion, but more importantly— Taehyun has defeated Hyunjin. Taehyun allows himself a few seconds to savor his victory before dropping the sword and rushing to Giselle. He kneels in a fluid motion and takes you into his arms, ending the first act with a melancholic atmosphere.

The curtains close, and the audience erupts into applause. Certainly, the fight scene was far more thrilling than anyone had expected. Once you are safe from the audience’s view, you open your eyes and hug Taehyun tightly, “Are you crazy?! Improvising in ballet?!”,  your voice carries both disbelief and amusement, “That was amazing” “I felt your heart. That’s why I could do it”. You open your mouth to say something, but the teachers' voices interrupt, “Hyunjin, Taehyun. We don't know when you planned that, but it was thrilling. We’ll adopt it for future performances, but… with a little more class. The saut de basque at the end was perfect, good job, Taehyun”. You look at each other and laugh, Hyunjin tried to ruin Taehyun's performance, but all he did was make him shine even brighter.

 The second act opens with the Wilis dance. The Wilis are a group of spirits of young brides who died of heartbreak after being betrayed by their lovers. In death, they haunt the forest and seek revenge by drawing men into a deadly dance, forcing them to dance until they collapse from exhaustion and die.

The stage is covered by a pale, bluish light, creating a dreamlike and ghostly atmosphere. 

Tombstones scatter the scene, and fog drifts across the ground as the Wilis appear, dressed in flowing white dresses with their hair cascading down their backs. Their movements are light, ethereal, and incredibly precise, like they’re floating above the wooden floor. The dance's signature move are delicate bourrées— tiny, fast steps that give the illusion of floating, often moving in unison, symbolizing their shared sorrow and fury. Their presence is both mesmerizing and threatening.

Giselle is now among them, her spirit is bound to the Wilis after her tragic death forever. She dances alongside them, though her movements carry a lasting gentleness. Her bourrées are as light as theirs, but her gaze reveals traces of human emotions— love and sorrow, all for Albrecht. 

Taehyun enters the scene, carrying a bouquet of flowers. He moves carefully, his face marked by grief and guilt, as he approaches Giselle’s grave. He kneels in front of it, placing the flowers gently on the ground. His presence disturbs the peace of the Wilis, who begin to gather around him, preparing to trap him in their deadly ritual. But Giselle steps forward, her spirit still protects the man she loved, even in death. Albrecht extends his hand toward Giselle, she steps closer. Their eyes meet, full of love. He touches her as if she were made of glass, afraid she might disappear again— but she doesn’t, she stays.

They begin to dance, the sorrow that surrounds them blends with the passion still burning between them both. In each step, it feels like their hearts beat as one, guiding their bodies in perfect harmony. When Albrecht lifts her, the movement is flawless once again. She rises into the air with such lightness, as if she carries no weight at all. He holds her above his head with strength and grace, and for a moment, Giselle seems to float in the sky, free from the pain. Taehyun puts you down gently, you fit into his arms like you always belonged there. Your hands intertwine, your eyes lock once more, you are no longer just a man and a woman dancing— you are two souls embracing their connection.

You finish the final sequence, bodies close, breathing in sync. There is no separation between you anymore. Only connection, only love. As the music fades away, Albrecht and Giselle remain close, his chest rising and falling against hers. Their fingers tighten softly, as if saying, without words: I’m still here, I’ll always be here.

The curtains close. The other dancers join you, Taehyun and the Wilis on stage. You hold his hand, smiles printed on your faces and as the curtains open once more, you all bow together, thanking the audience.

As soon as you step off the stage, you pull Taehyun close, pressing a desperate, genuine kiss on his lips. Your feelings run deep, raw, you have nothing to hide from him, and neither does he from you. When you finally part, you whisper against his lips low enough that no one else can hear, “I love you, Kang Taehyun”, he looks into your eyes, which overflow with the same emotions,“I love you, Yn Yln”, he breathes back. You smile, leaning in for another kiss when a familiar voice interrupts you,“Get a room, you two”, It’s Soojin, of course.

 You turn to see her standing beside an older woman with warm, bright eyes— Taehyun’s mother, you assume, “Soojin! Mom!” Taehyun steps away from you to hug both women, wrapping an arm around each, “Oh, my ray of sunshine! You were so wonderful up there! So graceful, so talented”, his mother says, “She’s right, Tyun”, Soojin adds, nodding in agreement. He smiles shyly and steps back, “Thank you… but… I wouldn’t have made it without her”, He takes your hand, pulling you close, “Mom, this is Yn, the girl I told you about” “You told your mom about me?”, you ask, surprised, “Like he couldn’t stop, baby”, his mother answers with a warm chuckle. She opens her arms and pulls you into a tight hug, a mother’s embrace, filled with tenderness, something you hadn’t felt in years. Even though you’re meeting her for the first time, it feels like you’ve known each other forever, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kang” “The pleasure is all mine, Yn”. She releases you but leans in to whisper, just for you to hear—like a secret shared between mother and daughter. “Welcome to the family”, you smile, eyes filling with emotional tears before you a sincere, “Thank you”.

Before you can say more, a gentle voice calls your name, pulling you out of that small bubble of comfort the Kangs created around you. 

“Yn”

The voice is calm, soft, and familiar. You turn slowly, heart racing and hands trembling, to confirm what you already suspected: “Huening Kai”, you whisper. Kai stands a few feet away, holding a vibrant bouquet of flowers. His smile is shy, and beside him stands Ni-ki.

You glance at Taehyun who’s trying to mask the expression of someone who’s been caught planning something as he mouths you the words, “Go”. You hesitate for a moment, but then you remember how good it feels to be loved— to love. Slowly, you approach your friends, “H-hey. What are you doing here?” “I came to see my dear friend make her debut as Giselle… just like she always dreamed of”, Kai says gently. Your chin trembles, and tears fill your eyes as you throw yourself into his broad, comforting chest, the sobs come uncontrollably, “Kai… I’m so sorry. I… I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to protect you. You and Riki”. You cling to him tightly, your voice breaks with every word, “I know, Yn,” he whispers, holding you just as tightly, “It’s okay”.

You pull back, wiping your tears, “Hey… these are for you”, he says, extending the bouquet.

You accept it carefully, admiring the flowers,“They’re beautiful. Thank you so much”. Ni-ki clears his throat and holds out his hand, “This is for you too”, it’s the bracelet— the one you had thrown at him that day in the hospital room. “Riki… you kept it?” “Yeah”, he and Kai lift their wrists, showing you the matching bracelets. Tears fill your eyes again, and you pull both of them into a tight, triple hug, “I love you both. So much. Please… let’s never be apart again”, “Deal,” Ni-ki says with a trembling voice, “Deal”, Kai agrees too.

Taehyun stands to the side, his arm around his mother, watching the scene, feeling proud— proud of you, of the person you’ve become over these past 3 months. Now, you know how to accept love, without fear, without hesitation. And he? He learned how to feel love, how to cry, how to fall and rise again without shame, without fear of being vulnerable.

As always, Soojin breaks the moment, throwing herself on the 3 of you, “Yay! Happy ending! I love it. How about celebrating with a caramel macchiato, huh?”. You all laugh, agreeing, “I’m in,” you say. She turns to Taehyun, “And you?” “Always” “Let’s go, then. You three have a lot to catch up on”. Soojin hooks her arms around Ni-ki and Kai, asking to see the scar on his forehead as they walk away. Taehyun looks at his mom, then at you, “Mom, go ahead with them, okay?” “Alright, sweetheart,” she replies, following the group.

Once they’re out of sight, Taehyun steps closer to you. You open your mouth to thank him, but he gently squeezes your hand, as if to say you don’t have to, “This is nothing compared to what you’ve given me”, he says softly, “What did I give you?” “You”. You smile brightly, tears pooling in your eyes once more, “Taehyun…”. You love him so much, he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. He smiles, wiping the tears from your cheeks, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Don’t cry” “These are happy tears. It feels like… everything’s finally falling into place. All because of you” “I love you, Yn” “I love you more, Taehyun”. You spend a few more moments gazing into each other’s eyes, your irises overflowing with emotion, until he gently brings you back to reality, “Shall we go?” “From now on… wherever you go, I’ll follow”.

He smiles, intertwining his fingers with yours. You walk side by side, talking about the performance, how incredible everyone was, and how Hyunjin ended up looking like an idiot, falling into his own tricks.

There’s no rush in your steps— this is what slow dancing feels like.

Tags: @xylatox , @hyunruhi

Playlist

[sitp-recs]

hi!i'm looking for some fic where draco and harry have age gap,can you recs some.thanks so much

Hi there! I’m sure I did a list about it in the past but I couldn’t find it so here are some recs - these are a mix of time travel and de-aging focused on romantic age gap. I also gotta mention Away Childish Things since it’s a fandom classic 🙌

Draco at Nineteen by birdsofshore (E, 5k)

It's the middle of the night and Harry Potter is sitting on my bed looking distinctly weird. I've had some fucked-up dreams in my time, but this one... this one is something new.

Not Nineteen Forever by @sorrybutblog (E, 6k)

A rogue charm hits on a mission and suddenly, Draco is nineteen again. Harry is still thirty-five and doing his best to look after his de-aged Auror partner (and forget about his long unrequited crush) until St. Mungo’s can brew the antidote.

The Eighth Tale by lettered (E, 12k)

Draco Malfoy tries to fix the past, but instead mucks it up some more. For Harry, it all becomes quite clear.

Wish You Were Here by cryptonym (E, 18k)

[Snape] leans on the table, towering over me like a vulture watching its prey, his eyes boring into me. “If I were in your position, I would be considering my history as I know it. If you are here now, you were always meant to be here.”

Twenty by leontina (E, 23k)

Just minutes after Voldemort’s defeat at the Final Battle, Harry is struck by a curse that sends him into a magical coma, and is only saved by being placed under a Stasis Charm that also prevents him aging. It takes 20 years to find a cure, and when Harry awakes again he is 18 and the rest of the world has moved on.

Just a Matter of Time by gracerene (E, 23k)

Draco's in a bit of a rut. He's nearing forty, divorced, and he still can't figure out how to make his Time Turner reconstruction work. He's bored, he can admit it, so he's not nearly as concerned as he should be when his pet project malfunctions and sends him twenty years into the past.

Fast Forward, Two Steps Back by emmagrant01 (E, 36k)

Everyone knows that Draco Malfoy died in the Room of Requirement ten years ago. So when he suddenly reappears at Hogwarts ten years later, still seventeen years old, Professor Harry Potter's life gets very complicated.

[tokischaaaaa]

te olvidaste  

!alex quackity x !latina reader

notes!!: finally a happy ending lol, based on te olvidaste - ft. omar apollo, 🌱  = time transition, fast forward :))

word count: 1k!

alex had just returned to mexico after finishing college in the states. he planned to stay home for a while, enjoying a well-earned break. his mother sent him on a simple errand—to pick up some condensed milk from the bodega nearby.  

it had been a long time since he last stepped into the small shop on calle juarez. the last time he was here… was with her. years had passed since their split, but he had never forgotten her.  

as he pushed the door open, the small bells above chimed. before he could take a step inside, a voice called out,

"¡voy! ¡perdón!"  

he let out a small chuckle. some things never changed.  

he wandered the aisles, scanning the shelves, when a familiar voice broke his thoughts.  

"señor, can I help you?"  

he turned toward the register. and there she was.  

her heavy curls fell over her face, slightly damp from the heat. she wore a simple tank top and dark blue shorts, shifting uncomfortably as the summer air pressed against her skin.  

but to alex, she looked like an angel.  

"hello, my friend, can I help you?" she repeated, this time in english, her thick spanish accent unmistakable.  

his mind froze.  

"sorry, I was just looking for some condensed milk," he finally managed, eyes dropping to the floor.  

"ah, okay, aisle four," she replied, pointing with her red-polished nails. her gaze lingered on him for only a second before she turned and walked back to the counter.  

alex stood frozen.  

did she not recognize him? did she forget everything? or… was she still upset?  

he couldn’t even bring himself to grab the condensed milk. his chest felt too tight, his thoughts too loud. without another second wasted, he turned and walked out of the bodega.  

🌱 

when he stepped inside his childhood home, his mother immediately noticed something was off.  

"¿qué pasó, hijo?"  

"nada, mamá."  

"mentira."  

he hesitated before asking, "what happened to y/n?"  

his mother sighed, taking his hand and guiding him to sit.  

"hijo… when you left, she tried to go back to her normal life. but after losing everything in a robbery, she struggled to get back on her feet. she got involved with the wrong people… and then…" she paused. "there was a car accident."  

alex felt his heart drop.  

"the crash destroyed her memory. she doesn’t remember anything before it."  

his mother barely finished speaking when the first tear fell down his cheek.  

"why didn’t you tell me?" he asked, his fists clenching.  

"because you needed to finish college. you needed to make it out for the rest of us."  

she sighed, knowing there was nothing she could say to make it better.  

alex scoffed, his frustration bubbling over. grabbing his hat, he stormed outside.  

🌱  

he walked for hours, making occasional stops, lost in thought. by now, the sky had darkened, the sun fully set. his mother was probably worried, but he didn’t care.  

he felt stupid. why didn’t I check in on her after we split?  

he exhaled sharply, deciding he wouldn’t run from this. he needed to see her again. no more sulking.  

pulling out his phone, he typed in te olvidaste by c. tangana & omar apollo and put his headphones in.  

just as he swung his leg over his bike, he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.  

he turned.  

it was her.  

her brown eyes glowed under the streetlights, lighter than he remembered.  

"¡hola!" she greeted cheerfully.  

"hola," he echoed.  

"¿qué haces?"  

his mind scrambled for a response, but instead, he sighed and told the truth.  

"buscando por ti."  

her brows lifted slightly. "¿por qué?"  

he swallowed.  

"porque te olvidaste de quien te enamoraste."  

without another thought, he pulled her close.  

and she didn’t hesitate.  

she melted into his arms, like it was the most natural thing in the world. and in that moment, something inside her clicked.  

this feeling… it was familiar.  

as he leaned in, their lips met.  

and as the kiss deepened, he felt her tears fall onto his cheeks.  

he pulled back slightly, searching her face.  

"¿por qué estás llorando?"  

she smiled through the tears.  

"porque te recuerdo."  

his breath hitched. he pulled her even closer, holding her as if she would slip away again.  

his phone slipped from his hand, and through the speaker, the song started playing.  

"yo sí recuerdo cuando nos conocimos…"  

they both laughed softly, the lyrics washing over them. and just like that, they began to sing together, swaying gently under the night sky.  

"qué vida vivo yo sin olvidarte…"  

"si quieres, baby, háblame…"  

"te olvidaste de quién te enamoraste…"  

more tears rolled down her face.  

"nunca te olvidaré ahora," she whispered. "gracias por hacerme recordar la alegría de la vida."  

alex lifted her chin, wiping her tears with his thumb.  

"de nada, amor."  

🌱•ᴗ•  (por la noche)

hand in hand, they walked back to his home.  

during the walk, he told her everything, about their past, about how much he loved her, about the years they lost.  

when they reached his doorstep, he turned to her, eyes full of something deeper than longing.  

"i know we just reconnected today, but i can’t lose you again, y/n." his voice cracked. "i’ll be patient. i’ll wait as long as you need. but please… don’t let me lose you again."  

she squeezed his hands.  

"alex… i love you."  

his breath caught in his throat.  

"i now know who i’ve been waiting for all this time. when i wake up every morning, i feel like something is missing. i never knew what it was." she placed a hand on his chest. "but now, i do. it was you. it was always you."  

he let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against hers.  

"now," she grinned, breaking the moment with a soft laugh, "let’s go get that condensed milk for your mom before she kills you."  

alex chuckled, tightening his grip on her hand.  

"te amo."  

"te amo más."  

as the song continued playing softly in the background, they disappeared into the warm glow of home. 

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

tokischaaaaa hablas: jeez, i need more happy endings lol . anyway pls someone give me music recomendations (specifcally r&b + spanish)

[shiorihyugawrites]

The Legendary Black Cat

Selena de la Rosa, known across Marley as the Legendary Black Cat, is the world's deadliest assassin—a master of agility, precision, and deception. When Marley turns against her, she is shipped to Paradis as a living weapon, chained and drugged, with her survival all but assured to be short-lived. But Selena is no ordinary prisoner.

Bound by no one, loyal to none, Selena plots her next move, determined to seize her freedom by any means necessary. Yet, her plans are complicated by the Scouts who captured her, particularly Captain Levi Ackerman—the so-called Humanity's Strongest Soldier. Selena is intrigued by his strength and reputation, but her pride refuses to acknowledge him as her equal.

Caught between Levi’s unrelenting gaze, Selena plays a dangerous game of manipulation. She’s biding her time, but when the moment comes, will her calculated escape bring her freedom—or will her path collide violently with Levi’s unwavering resolve?

The Black Cat has always landed on her feet, but for the first time, she might meet her match. (Levi x OC)

Chapter Twenty Three

The next few days at Scout HQ were intense. The squad trained harder than ever, Selena and Levi pushing them past their limits, sharpening their skills, and forcing them to be smarter, faster, and more efficient. Levi drilled them on discipline and precision, while Selena focused on their unpredictability, teaching them how to think like an assassin rather than a soldier.

Meanwhile, the fortifications around HQ were doubled. Erwin had increased patrols, new rotations were in place, and security was at an all-time high. They all knew something was coming, and no one wanted to be caught off guard. Hange, for all her curiosity, was just as determined, working tirelessly with Selena to figure out the most pressing question—why had Marley been smuggling weapons into Paradis?

The two stolen firearms from the smuggling operation sat on the table in the command room, Selena sitting cross-legged on the table itself, one of the weapons resting on her lap. Her fingers traced the smooth, polished surface of the barrel, her expression unreadable as she inspected it carefully.

“These aren’t standard Marleyan issue,” she murmured, turning it over in her hands.

Hange, who had been furiously scribbling notes, perked up. “How so?”

Selena exhaled sharply through her nose, tapping her fingers against the metal. “They look similar, but the craftsmanship is different. These were built for a different purpose.”

Levi, who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. “And what purpose is that?”

Selena clicked a switch on the side of the weapon, pulling back the bolt and tilting the barrel so that they could see the loading mechanism. “This isn’t just a gun. It’s an automatic firearm.”

The room went silent.

Erwin frowned slightly. “Explain.”

Selena sighed and shook her head. “You guys don’t have anything like this here, so I’m not surprised you don’t recognize it. Your guns are single-shot, meaning you have to reload after every bullet. This?” She tapped the side of the weapon. “This can fire multiple rounds in rapid succession without needing to reload right away.”

Hange leaned forward, eyes wide with fascination. “How fast?”

Selena shrugged. “Depends on the model, but if this is anything like the ones I’ve seen before, we’re talking dozens of bullets in a matter of seconds.”

Jean, who had been leaning against the doorway listening, stiffened. “Wait… so you’re saying that thing can fire off dozens of shots without stopping?”

Selena nodded grimly. “Exactly. One person with this could take out an entire squad before they even got close.”

Mikasa’s expression darkened. “And Marley was smuggling them into Paradis.”

Erwin’s jaw tightened. “Which means they were planning on using them against us.”

The weight of that realization settled over the room like a heavy fog. Paradis had spent years dealing with the threat of Titans, training to fight them, perfecting their ODM skills to outmaneuver them. But this? This was an entirely different type of warfare—one that no one here had ever encountered before.

Selena exhaled slowly, setting the gun back on the table. “These are meant for mass slaughter. Whoever was planning to receive these wasn’t just looking to arm themselves—they were preparing for a massacre.”

Armin, who had been quiet up until this point, swallowed hard. “But who? Us? The Military Police? The nobles? Someone in Wall Sina?”

Levi shook his head. “It doesn’t matter who. What matters is stopping it before it happens.”

Hange hummed thoughtfully, tapping their chin. “You said this isn’t Marley’s standard issue… then who made them?”

Selena’s lips pressed together. “That’s what I’d like to know. It could be one of Marley’s internal weapon manufacturers. But if these were meant to be a secret, it’s possible they were made by an independent contractor.”

Erwin steepled his fingers together, deep in thought. “Which means there could be more shipments we don’t know about.”

Selena nodded. “Exactly. We destroyed one, but there could be others already here.”

Jean looked between them. “So what’s the plan? We sit around waiting for these things to start popping up, or we do something about it?”

Erwin’s sharp blue eyes flickered toward Levi and Selena. “We find out where they’re coming from, and we cut it off at the source.”

Levi nodded in agreement. “We need to track down where these shipments are being made and who’s behind them.”

Hange’s excitement bubbled over. “And we need to take these apart and figure out how they work!”

Selena smirked. “Of course you do.”

Erwin turned to Levi. “You and Selena will lead the investigation. If anyone knows how to track people like this, it’s her.”

Selena stretched her arms above her head. “Well, well, looks like you’re stuck with me again, Capitán.”

Levi scowled. “Tch.”

Selena grinned. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Jean groaned. “Can you two flirt later? We’re dealing with something kind of important here.”

Selena winked at him. “Multitasking, Jean.”

Erwin sighed. “Enough. We move quickly. If Kwasi is involved in this, then he has more information than we do. We can’t let him get ahead of us.”

Levi crossed his arms. “If that bastard Kwasi is involved, then he’s got more information than just where these weapons were headed. He was always high in the ranks. If we can find him before he makes his move, we might be able to get ahead of this.”

Selena exhaled sharply through her nose, shaking her head. “That’s easier said than done. He doesn’t make mistakes often, and if he’s already here, that means he’s set up somewhere safe, somewhere secure. He’ll be watching us, waiting for the right moment to strike.”

Hange sighed dramatically and leaned back in their chair. “Well, isn’t that just wonderful? A walking nightmare with near superhuman strength, waiting in the shadows, possibly armed with experimental weapons, and we have no idea where he is or what he’s planning.”

Selena smirked. “Pretty much.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “You sound too happy about this.”

Selena shrugged, stretching her arms behind her head. “What can I say? The thrill of the hunt, Capitán.”

Levi grunted in response, his gaze flickering to the guns again.

Erwin, ever the strategist, straightened his posture. “We need to test these weapons. If we don’t understand how they work, we won’t stand a chance if they’re used against us.”

Selena sat up properly, nodding. “Agreed. I can take one of them out for testing. I already have an idea of what we need to look for.”

Levi shot her a look. “We’re testing them together. You’re not going anywhere alone.”

Selena grinned, enjoying his protective streak. “Are you worried about me, Levi?”

Levi scowled. “I’m worried about you doing something reckless.”

Selena laughed. “Same thing.”

Hange, despite the seriousness of the situation, was watching the two of them with a barely concealed grin, jotting something down in their notes.

Erwin, however, ignored their antics, his expression unreadable as he observed the dynamic between them. He knew Levi was invested, far more than he was letting on. And while having such a strong bond between two of their most dangerous fighters could be an asset, it was also a liability.

If Kwasi knew about this, he would use it.

And knowing Marley’s methods, they would do anything to exploit weaknesses.

Erwin leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. “We’ll proceed carefully. The next move we make has to count. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

Selena gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry, Commander. I don’t make mistakes.”

Levi scoffed. “Says the woman who fell into a pit when we caught her.”

Selena’s smile widened. “That was an unfortunate accident.”

Erwin sighed, already feeling a headache forming. “Just don’t do anything that gets you killed.”

Selena stood up and stretched, cracking her neck. “Don’t worry. If anyone’s dying, it’s going to be the people who deserve it.”

Levi said nothing, but he didn’t need to. He was already watching her too closely, his mind working through every possible scenario. If Selena thought she was going to take this fight on alone, she was sorely mistaken.

Hummingbird was already here. Salamander was in play. And Marley’s weapons were making their way into Paradis.

This war was coming.

And they would be ready.

…

That night, it was quiet, the air crisp and still, a stark contrast to the tension that had hung thick in the air earlier that day. The scouts were spread throughout HQ, some sleeping, some keeping watch, but none of them were truly at ease. Not with what they had learned about Marley’s weapons, not with the threat of Kwasi and Aoi looming over them.

Levi sat outside, perched on a wooden crate near the entrance, his cup of black tea held firmly between his fingers. The warmth of the tea seeped into his hands, grounding him, keeping him steady. It was a ritual he had done for years, something constant amid the chaos. The steam curled in the cold air, and Levi took a slow sip, allowing the bitterness to settle on his tongue. He welcomed it.

Footsteps approached, light and deliberate. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

Selena.

She always moved like a cat—silent, predatory, and confident. But tonight, there was no teasing remark when she approached, no flirtatious greeting. Instead, she merely plopped down next to him on the crate, close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed. For a moment, she simply sat there, watching the flickering fire in front of them.

Then, without warning, she snatched the cup from his hand.

Levi barely blinked as she took a generous sip—before immediately gagging, scrunching her face in pure disgust. She spat the liquid out onto the ground, coughing and dramatically wiping at her tongue.

“Ugh! Levi, what the hell is this?” she choked, staring at the cup in horror. “Is this tar? Dirt? Did you just squeeze a tree branch into a cup and call it tea?”

Levi sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s tea, dumbass.”

“This isn’t tea. This is suffering in a cup,” Selena argued, setting the cup down as if it personally offended her. “How do you drink this?”

Levi rolled his eyes. “I like it black.”

Selena shook her head, still grimacing. “There’s something wrong with you, Capitán.”

Levi exhaled through his nose, amused despite himself. “Tch. You just have the taste buds of a damn child.”

“Or maybe you have the taste buds of a psychopath.” Selena leaned back, propping herself up on her hands. “Seriously, why do you drink that garbage?”

For a moment, Levi was quiet, his gaze fixed ahead. Then, without really thinking, he muttered, “Because it reminds me of my mother.”

Selena’s teasing demeanor faded in an instant.

Levi rarely spoke about himself. He was a closed book, sealed shut with steel locks, but in that moment, he had unknowingly cracked it open. Selena, to her credit, didn’t immediately pounce on it with her usual playful banter. Instead, she sat up properly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity.

“Your mother?” she repeated, softer this time.

Levi stared into the darkness, his jaw tightening slightly before he sighed. “Yeah. She used to drink tea. It wasn’t much, and it was cheap—tasted awful, to be honest. But it was one of the few nice things she had.”

Selena remained quiet, allowing him to speak at his own pace.

Levi’s fingers curled slightly. “She worked in a brothel. The Underground didn’t have much to offer, and people like us didn’t get choices. But she always made sure I had what little she could give.”

Selena’s chest tightened at the way he spoke—so emotionless, so matter-of-fact. But there was something beneath it, something deep and old, like a wound long scarred over but never fully healed.

“I’m guessing this Underground place was bad,” she murmured.

Levi huffed a humorless laugh. “That’s one way to put it. It was a hellhole. No sunlight, no clean water, just endless filth. If you weren’t strong, you died. Simple as that.”

Selena frowned. She knew cruelty. She had lived it, breathed it, but the way Levi described the Underground, it sounded like something worse than Marley’s assassin program. At least Marley had given them food, shelter, purpose. But this? It sounded like pure, unrelenting survival.

“What happened to her?” she asked quietly.

Levi was silent for a moment. Then, with a cold finality, he said, “She got sick. Died in our bed.”

Selena sucked in a breath.

Levi didn’t elaborate further, and he didn’t need to. The weight of his words settled between them, heavy and unmovable.

She had never really considered where Levi had come from before. He was Captain Levi, Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, the unshakable force of the Scouts. But now, she was seeing something else—something beneath the layers of stoicism and sharp edges.

A boy who had grown up in the dark, forced to be strong because weakness meant death. A son who had lost his mother to a world that never gave a damn about them.

Selena swallowed, then hesitated before saying, “I… I didn’t know.”

Levi shrugged. “Not exactly something I talk about.”

Selena studied him for a moment. “So, let me guess… you drink that awful tea to remember her?”

Levi gave a slow nod. “Yeah.”

Selena exhaled, shaking her head with a small smirk. “That’s kinda sweet. Terrible taste, but sweet.”

Levi scoffed. “Don’t get used to it.”

A comfortable silence stretched between them. Selena tapped her fingers against the crate, her mind still reeling from what Levi had just told her. He had let her in—just a little, just enough for her to see another piece of him.

Selena understood pain. She understood loss, loneliness, and the need to hold onto something, even if it was something as simple as a cup of bitter tea.

She reached out, nudging his arm with her elbow. “For what it’s worth, I think your mother would be proud of you.”

Levi blinked, his expression unreadable. “Why?”

Selena smirked. “Because you’re not as much of an asshole as you pretend to be.”

Levi rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “You ruin every moment, you know that?”

“It’s a gift.” Selena winked.

Levi sighed, rubbing his temple, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he reached over, taking his cup back from where she had abandoned it. He took another sip, the bitterness grounding him, steadying him.

The air between them remained still, the cool breeze carrying the distant hum of crickets. Levi continued to sip at his tea and this time, Selena didn’t protest. She just sat there beside him, her presence oddly comforting. Neither of them were the kind to talk about their pasts—Levi especially—but tonight felt different.

Maybe it was because he had already told her something personal. Or maybe it was because the weight of everything—the war, the missions, the looming threats—made the past feel less like a wound and more like a distant echo.

Selena let out a slow breath, watching the stars. Her fingers drummed absentmindedly against her thigh before she finally spoke.

"I wasn’t born in Marley, you know," she said quietly.

Levi didn’t react immediately, but she could tell she had his attention. His gaze remained forward, his posture relaxed, but he was listening.

“My home… before Marley took me,” she continued, “was a country called Aztlan.”

Levi arched a brow. “Never heard of it.”

“Of course, you haven’t,” Selena chuckled bitterly. “It’s across the sea, far south of Marley. Aztlan is—was—a beautiful place. Tropical, colorful, loud.” She gestured with her hands, as if trying to capture the essence of it. “The cities were full of music, street markets, people dancing in the plazas. And the food—Dios mío, the food. The spices, the flavors… nothing in Marley ever came close.”

Levi listened in silence. He could hear the wistfulness in her voice, the way she spoke about her homeland as if she had lost something precious. And in a way, she had.

“I don’t remember everything,” she admitted, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I was only five when I was taken. But I do remember my mother.”

Levi’s grip on his cup tightened slightly.

“She was beautiful,” Selena said, a small smile ghosting her lips. “Long hair, and it was curly like mine, always a red flower tucked behind her ear. She smelled like vanilla and citrus. I used to think she was the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Levi remained quiet, but she could sense the way he absorbed her words.

“But she was also…” Selena’s voice trailed off for a moment, as if she were searching for the right words. “She was sick. Not in a way you could see, but in a way that made her… different.”

Levi understood immediately.

“She was an addict.”

Selena nodded, a hollow chuckle escaping her lips. “Powder. Pills. Needles… whatever she could get her hands on. I didn’t understand it then, of course. To me, she was just Mama. She was all I had.”

She stared ahead, eyes unfocused, lost in memories that had long haunted her.

“But she had good days,” she said softly. “There were times when she’d sing to me while brushing my hair. Times when we’d dance barefoot in our tiny apartment, just the two of us. And one time…” Her expression softened, as if she were looking at something only she could see. “She took me to a ballet.”

Levi turned his head slightly, watching her.

“She had saved up for weeks—well, I assume she did, I don’t know how else she got the money,” Selena mused. “She dressed me in my nicest dress, did my hair in a little bun, and we went to the theater. It was the first time I had ever seen anything so grand. The chandeliers, the red velvet curtains, the way the light hit the stage. And then, the dancers…”

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply.

“They were like angels,” she whispered. “Their movements were so graceful, so effortless. I remember being completely mesmerized. The way they twirled, the way their feet barely touched the floor—it was like they were floating.”

Levi could hear the raw emotion in her voice.

“That night, I told my mother I wanted to be a ballerina when I grew up,” she admitted with a soft chuckle. “She laughed, said I was too clumsy. But I didn’t care. That was the happiest I had ever been.”

Her fingers traced the dirt absently. “That memory… it’s the reason I created my two techniques, ‘The Waltz of the Flowers’ and ‘The Dance of the Sugar Fairy.’ Every time I fight, I move the way those dancers did. Light, fluid, untouchable. I wanted to capture that beauty, that grace.”

Levi hadn’t expected that. He had seen her fight. He had seen how precise, how calculated her movements were. And now, knowing that they stemmed from something so… innocent, something so pure, it was almost unsettling. It made her past even more tragic.

“But that dream didn’t last long,” Selena said, her voice hardening.

Levi didn’t ask, but he knew what was coming.

“After the show, my mother took me into an alley behind the theatre,” she continued. “We waited for about an hour.” Her hands clenched. “And then a stranger showed up.”

Levi’s jaw tightened.

“It was a man. He was rich, well-dressed. He reeked of alcohol.” Selena’s voice was detached, almost hollow. “I didn’t understand what was happening at first. But then she hugged me and said I needed to listen.”

She inhaled sharply, as if bracing herself.

“She sold me to him,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “For forty-five dollars.”

Levi’s eyes snapped to her, sharp and unreadable.

“She didn’t even look at me after she handed me over,” Selena said, her voice laced with quiet anger. “Just told me to ‘be good’ took the money from his hand and left. That was the last time I ever saw her.”

Silence stretched between them.

Levi didn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t good at comforting people, and he knew that words couldn’t undo what had happened to her. But damn it, he wanted to say something.

Selena let out a slow breath. “I don’t know if she’s alive,” she admitted. “And honestly? I don’t know if I want to know. Because if she is… I just have one question for her.” She turned her gaze toward Levi, her green eyes burning with something unreadable.

“Was that really all I was worth?” she asked. “Just forty-five dollars?”

Levi clenched his jaw.

He had seen a lot of cruelty in his life. He had grown up in filth, seen the worst of humanity. But this—this was a different kind of cruelty. A mother selling her own daughter like livestock.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before finally speaking.

“She was a fool,” he said simply.

Selena blinked, slightly surprised.

“You were worth a hell of a lot more than that,” Levi continued, his tone firm. “You still are.”

Selena stared at him, searching his face. There was no pity in his expression, no forced sympathy. Just quiet, unwavering conviction.

For some reason, that made her chest tighten.

She forced a smirk, but it was weaker than usual. “Look at you, Capitán,” she murmured. “Almost saying something sweet.”

Levi rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue.

Selena leaned back against the crate, exhaling. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice softer this time.

Levi didn’t respond. He just sat there, his presence steady, solid.

The silence between them stretched, heavy yet oddly comfortable. The fire crackled softly nearby, casting long shadows across their faces. The weight of their pasts hanging in the air like a storm cloud neither of them could escape.

For all their differences, for all their bickering and teasing, at their core, they were the same. Both of them had been forged in fire, shaped by a world that never offered them kindness, only struggle and suffering.

Levi had fought tooth and nail just to survive the Underground, to crawl his way out of that filth and make something of himself. He had lost everything—his mother, his home, his family. And then he found a new one, only to lose them too.

Selena had been ripped from her home, sold like cattle, forced into a life of bloodshed before she even had a chance to be a child. Her life had been dictated by others—Marley, the assassins, men who thought they could own her. But she had survived, defied every expectation, clawed her way to the top.

They had both been used, both been betrayed, both lost more than they could ever put into words.

And yet, here they were.

Levi glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She had fallen silent, staring into the fire, lost in thought. She wasn’t wearing that usual playful smirk, the one she always used as armor. No, this was different.

“You’re thinking too much,” he muttered.

Selena let out a breathy laugh. “Can’t help it, Capitán. Happens sometimes.”

Levi shook his head, taking another sip of his tea. “Tch. Never would’ve guessed.”

She nudged his leg with her foot. “Rude.”

They lapsed into another silence, but this time, it wasn’t heavy. It was just there, existing between them, natural and unforced.

“You ever think about what could’ve been?” Selena finally asked, her voice quieter now.

Levi looked at her. “What do you mean?”

She tilted her head, gazing at the stars. “If things had been different. If I never got taken from my home. If your mother never died. If we never had to fight just to exist.” She sighed. “You ever wonder what kind of life you would’ve had?”

Levi considered the question. He had never really allowed himself to think about it before. There was no point in wondering about something that could never be. But now…

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe I would’ve just been some nobody in the Underground. Maybe I’d still be stealing to survive.”

Selena hummed. “And maybe I would’ve been a dancer,” she said, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “Or maybe I would’ve worked in some market stall, selling fruits or trinkets.”

Levi smirked slightly. “Can’t picture that.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Me neither.”

They sat in silence again, but this time, something had shifted. There was a quiet understanding between them now, something unspoken but undeniable.

“You know,” Selena murmured, “we’re not so different, you and I.”

Levi exhaled. “I noticed.”

She turned to him, her green eyes glinting in the firelight. “And?”

He met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “And it explains a lot.”

Selena grinned. “You like me, Capitán. Admit it.”

Levi scoffed, looking away. “Shut up.”

But Selena saw the way the corners of his mouth twitched, the way his eyes softened just a fraction.

She didn’t push it.

Instead, she just sat there with him, two warriors, two survivors, bound by a past they could never change and a future they weren’t sure they had.

Selena leaned back on her hands, tilting her head as she studied Levi. The firelight flickered across his face, illuminating the sharp angles of his jaw and the perpetual scowl that seemed etched into his features.

She had seen many men in her life—powerful men, weak men, dangerous men—but none of them were quite like him. Levi Ackerman was an enigma, a mystery she couldn’t quite solve, and she found herself wanting to crack him open just to see what was inside.

A wicked grin stretched across her lips. “You know, Capitán, I’ve been wondering about something.”

Levi sighed, already sensing that whatever came out of her mouth next was going to be annoying. “Don’t.”

“Oh, but I must.” She sat up, turning to him fully. “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

Levi didn’t even look at her. “This conversation is over.”

Selena gasped, dramatically clutching her chest. “So secretive! That means no, doesn’t it?”

Levi rubbed his temples. “Shut up, you annoying stray cat.”

Selena scooted closer, completely ignoring his warning. “Come on, you have to tell me. A man as strong, as skilled, as—” she dragged her fingers down his arm, feeling the hard muscle beneath his jacket “—as incredibly built as you must have had women throwing themselves at you.”

Levi tensed under her touch, his entire body rigid. He grabbed her wrist and removed her hand from his arm. “Stop.”

Selena narrowed her eyes. “That’s a no, isn’t it?”

Levi said nothing.

A slow smirk curved her lips. “Oh, my God.”

Levi scowled. “Don’t.”

She pointed a finger at him. “You’ve never had a girlfriend before.”

Levi grunted, crossing his arms. “It’s none of your damn business.”

Selena was grinning now, absolutely delighted. “That means you’ve never been with a woman before, either.”

Levi’s eye twitched. “I swear to God, Selena—”

“Oh, this is too good.” Selena practically purred as she shifted even closer to him, her voice teasing, taunting. “My dear Capitán, are you a virgin?”

Levi’s nostrils flared, and she saw the faintest hint of color rise to his ears.

Selena gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her mouth. “You are, aren’t you?”

Levi shot her a murderous glare. “Shut up.”

But it was too late. Selena was having the time of her life. “No wonder you’re so grumpy all the time! You’re all pent up.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, I could help with that.”

Levi exhaled sharply through his nose, his patience wearing thinner by the second. “I’m this close to throwing you into the fire.”

Selena cackled, clearly enjoying his misery. “I’d like to see you try.”

Levi didn’t dignify her with a response. He just picked up his teacup, took a slow sip, and stared into the fire, trying to will himself into a state of peace.

Selena, however, wasn’t done.

“Seriously, though,” she mused, resting her chin on her hand as she studied him. “You’ve never been curious? Not even once?”

Levi sighed. He knew she wouldn’t let this go until she got some kind of answer. “I’ve had more important things to do than chase after women.”

Selena raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Killing titans? Wiping tables? Folding cravats?”

Levi glared at her. “Keeping idiots like you alive.”

Selena smirked. “You’re deflecting.”

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, praying for patience. “I grew up in the Underground,” he finally said, his voice flat. “Had to fight to survive. Then I joined the Scouts. Had to fight to survive some more. Didn’t exactly have time for romance.”

Selena tilted her head. “No one ever caught your eye?”

Levi hesitated. He had respected a few women in his life. But he had never allowed himself to think about them in that way. Love was a weakness, a distraction, and distractions got people killed.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said simply. “It’s not important.”

Selena hummed thoughtfully. “I think it is.”

Levi shot her a look. “Why?”

She shrugged, a lazy smile playing on her lips. “Because it means you’ve never been kissed before.”

Levi’s jaw locked. “I have.”

Selena blinked, surprised. “Oh?”

Levi’s glare intensified. “You did it, remember?”

Selena’s eyes widened before a slow grin stretched across her face. “Oh, Capitán,” she purred, leaning in closer. “You mean to tell me your first kiss was with me?”

Levi didn’t answer, which was all the confirmation she needed.

Selena sat in stunned silence, the realization hitting her like a bolt of lightning. “Levi. Was that really your first kiss?”

Levi’s brow twitched. He set his teacup down with an audible clink. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Selena slapped a hand over her mouth. “I stole your first kiss!?”

Levi crossed his arms and leaned back, looking away. “It doesn’t matter.”

Selena gasped even louder, placing both hands on her cheeks. “Oh my God, Levi! I stole your first kiss! You’re—” she dramatically collapsed off the crate, shaking her head. “You’re ruined.”

Levi scowled. “Shut up.”

Selena peeked at him through her fingers. “No, but seriously, I kinda feel bad now.”

Levi arched an eyebrow. “You feel bad?”

Selena nodded. “Yeah. A first kiss is supposed to be special. And I just—” she made a vague motion with her hands, mimicking her past actions. “—swooped in, planted one on you, and dipped.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

Selena tilted her head, studying him. “But it does.”

Levi gave her a deadpan look. “Why?”

Selena grinned. “Because I’m going to make it up to you.”

Levi stiffened. “What?”

She sat back on the crate and scooted closer, her voice dropping into something softer, more teasing. “That first kiss didn’t count. It was stolen, done in the middle of battle. Hardly romantic.”

Levi stared at her warily. “So?”

Selena leaned forward slightly, her fingers trailing lightly along the grass between them. “So, don’t you think you deserve a real first kiss? A proper one?”

Levi swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “No.”

Selena chuckled. “Liar.”

Levi shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “You need to go to bed, Selena.”

Selena ignored him. “Come on, I’ll make it good. Something to remember. A kiss actually worth calling your first.”

Levi’s face was unreadable, but the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitched, told her she was getting under his skin.

She leaned in, just a little. Their faces were close now, close enough that Levi could feel the warmth of her breath against his lips.

For a second, just a second, his eyes flickered to her lips.

Selena saw it.

Her smirk grew. “I can show you how it’s really supposed to feel,” she whispered.

Levi went rigid. His ears were turning red, and he hated it. He hated how his body betrayed him around her, how she got under his skin without even trying.

Selena’s voice was a purr now. “You just have to say yes.”

Levi inhaled deeply through his nose. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. “You’re out of order.”

Selena grinned. “That’s not a no.”

Levi exhaled sharply, tilting his head back, staring at the sky as if praying for patience.

Selena leaned in just a little more, their lips nearly brushing.

Levi’s breath hitched.

Selena smirked. “Are you blushing, Capitán?”

Levi shot up so fast it startled her. He turned his back to her, stalking toward the firepit.

“Stop playing your games,” he gritted out, his voice dangerously low.

Selena chuckled, watching him go, her arms crossed over her chest.

She didn’t get her kiss.

But oh, she knew it was only a matter of time.

His ears, the tips of them burning crimson, stood out starkly against his usual pale complexion. She had him. She had definitely rattled him.

But…

She tilted her head, observing the way his shoulders were unusually stiff, the way his fingers curled and uncurled as if he was grappling with something internal. He wasn’t just annoyed. He was affected.

Selena chuckled to herself but decided, for once, to back off.

Levi needed space, that much was clear. He was already so tightly wound, and she had just yanked at his strings hard enough to make him snap.

It was adorable.

Still, she figured pushing him any further right now would be too much, so she leaned back against the crate, arms folding behind her head.

She’d let him breathe… for now.

Levi, meanwhile, was furious. Not at her—well, yes, partly at her—but mostly at himself.

Why didn’t he just push her away? Why didn’t he immediately shut her down like he always did? Why had he just… sat there, letting her lean in closer and closer until the warmth of her breath tickled his lips?

Why had his heartbeat picked up?

Levi inhaled sharply, pressing a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.

No.

No, no, no.

This wasn’t happening.

He wasn’t feeling things. He wasn’t reacting. He was in control. He was always in control.

Except… he hadn’t been.

Because for a second—just a split second—he’d wanted it.

His lips parted slightly, his throat dry as the realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

He had wanted to kiss her.

Not because it would be his first real kiss. Not because she was teasing him. But because, for some reason, in that moment, he had wanted her.

Levi clenched his fists.

He hated that.

He hated that she got under his skin, that she had wormed her way into his thoughts like a disease he couldn’t cure.

She was a menace.

A cocky, seductive, aggravating menace who made his already stressful life infinitely more frustrating.

Levi let out a slow exhale, turning his back to the fire and sitting down with a huff.

Selena didn’t say anything else.

No more teasing, no more flirting.

And for some reason, that bothered him too.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the strands.

Get it together, Levi.

He forced himself to shift his thoughts, focus on the upcoming battle, on the looming threat of Salamander and Hummingbird.

But it was no use.

No matter how much he tried to will his mind elsewhere, it kept circling back to her.

To her infuriating smirk.

To her voice, that damn purr she used whenever she was messing with him.

To her lips, hovering just over his.

Levi’s jaw clenched.

He hated this.

And what was worse?

He knew this wasn’t the last time it was going to happen.

Selena tilted her head, watching Levi with that same sly, knowing grin, but there was something softer beneath it this time—something real.

She could see the way he was struggling. The way his fingers twitched at his sides, the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, how his jaw clenched and unclenched like he was forcing himself not to look at her.

It was cute.

So damn cute.

And she wasn’t one to dance around how she felt.

“I’ll back off for now, Capitán,” she purred, her voice still laced with amusement, but her words were sincere. “But don’t get it twisted.” She leaned forward slightly, just enough for him to feel the weight of her words. “I don’t just want to kiss you to tease you.”

Levi tensed.

She smirked.

“I want to kiss you because I want to.”

Levi’s breath hitched.

“And because I want you.”

The crackle of the fire between them filled the silence.

For once, Selena didn’t laugh or smirk at his reaction. She let her words settle in, watching the way his expression shifted from slightly irritated to entirely flustered.

She had never seen him like this before.

Levi Ackerman, Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, looking like a deer caught in torchlight.

For a man who had commanded entire battalions, who killed without hesitation, who stood unshaken in the face of death itself…

He had no idea what to do with her words.

And that made Selena very interested in what else could shake him.

Levi turned his head sharply, glaring at the ground like it had personally offended him.

“We can’t do this right now, Selena.”

She arched an eyebrow.

His voice was steady, controlled.

But the tips of his ears were bright red.

“There’s too much at stake,” he continued, his fingers twitching slightly against his knees. “We need to focus.”

Selena hummed.

She could tell he was trying to regain control of the conversation, of himself, of everything.

But she had already rattled him.

And she liked it.

“Fair enough,” she said simply, standing up and stretching, giving a small, pleased hum at the way Levi’s eyes flickered to the curve of her waist before he caught himself.

She grinned.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook though, mi Capitán.” She turned on her heel, sauntering away, tossing a glance over her shoulder. “This conversation isn’t over.”

Levi exhaled sharply through his nose.

She knew she had won.

And Levi hated that.

But what he hated even more was the way he couldn’t stop watching her walk away.

The way her words clung to him like a phantom touch.

The way his chest felt too tight.

And worst of all…

The way a small, traitorous part of him wanted to see where this would go.

…

The next morning, Levi walked into the mess hall with dark circles under his eyes, his usual stoic expression locked in place. He hadn’t gotten a damn wink of sleep last night, and he knew exactly why.

Selena.

Her words from the night before echoed in his head like an annoying song that wouldn’t stop playing.

I don’t just want to kiss you to tease you. I want to kiss you because I want to. And because I want you.

Levi had been through hell and back in his life. He had faced titans, watched comrades die, endured loss and suffering beyond comprehension. But somehow, that damn woman had managed to unsettle him more than anything else ever had.

It pissed him off.

And what pissed him off more was the fact that a small, treacherous part of him didn’t hate the feeling.

The sound of loud laughter pulled him from his thoughts, and his sharp eyes immediately found the source.

There she was.

Selena was sitting at one of the tables, her legs crossed as she casually leaned back in her chair, laughing at something Connie had said. Sasha was grinning beside them, her mouth full of food, while Jean and Armin watched the interaction with amused expressions.

Selena fit in with them so easily, as if she had been there from the beginning.

That should have been a good thing.

But for some reason, Levi hated how effortlessly she blended in.

She was supposed to be an outsider.

She was supposed to be dangerous.

And yet, here she was, laughing and joking with his squad like she wasn’t the most lethal assassin Marley had ever produced.

Like she wasn’t the same woman who had stolen his first kiss.

His only kiss.

Then, as if she could sense him, Selena suddenly turned her head, and their eyes locked across the room.

Levi stiffened.

A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips, and Levi felt heat crawl up the back of his neck.

Damn it.

Without a word, he immediately turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction, heading straight for the table where Erwin was seated.

He could feel Selena’s amusement behind him.

He could hear the soft, breathy chuckle that left her lips as she watched him retreat.

And Erwin—damn him—had caught the entire interaction.

Levi sat down stiffly across from him, reaching for a cup of tea that had already been poured.

Erwin didn’t say anything at first.

He simply observed.

And that was worse.

After a long, drawn-out pause, Erwin finally took a slow sip of his own tea before setting the cup down with a small clink.

“…Something on your mind, Levi?”

Levi didn’t look at him.

“No.”

Erwin hummed.

“Didn’t sleep well?”

Levi’s grip tightened around his cup.

“I’m fine.”

Erwin’s lips twitched slightly, but he didn’t press further.

Instead, he casually glanced over at the other table where Selena was still sitting, still laughing, still completely and utterly unbothered by the fact that she had spent the previous night wrecking Levi’s entire emotional state.

“She’s fitting in well,” Erwin mused, taking another sip of tea.

Levi said nothing.

Erwin glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

“…You two seem to be getting along.”

Levi finally turned to glare at him.

“We’re not.”

Erwin’s lips curled ever so slightly.

He had known Levi long enough to recognize when he was lying.

And this—this was the most blatant lie Levi had ever told.

“Well,” Erwin said mildly, setting his cup down. “That’s unfortunate.”

Levi narrowed his eyes.

“Why?”

Erwin simply folded his hands together, his blue eyes glinting with something far too knowing.

“Because I think she’s very…fond of you.”

Levi almost choked on his tea.

Erwin was enjoying this.

That bastard was enjoying this.

Levi scowled deeply, setting his cup down with a sharp clank.

“She’s annoying.”

Erwin’s smile was infuriatingly patient.

“And yet, she’s the only person who’s managed to get under your skin.”

Levi’s jaw locked.

“…She doesn’t get under my skin.”

“Mm.” Erwin hummed, unconvinced. “If you say so.”

Levi hated him.

He hated him.

Because Erwin was right.

Selena did get under his skin.

She got under his skin in ways no one ever had.

And that was dangerous.

For both of them.

But as Selena sat at the table, laughing with Sasha and Connie over some ridiculous joke, the warm and easy atmosphere of the mess hall suddenly shattered.

The distant sound of shouting, followed by a sickening crunch of bones breaking, sent an immediate ripple of tension through the room.

The laughter died instantly.

Then came the screams.

Something was wrong.

Levi was the first to react, standing so fast that his chair screeched across the floor, his hand already gripping the hilt of his blades. Selena was right behind him, her instincts kicking in immediately as she sprang to her feet, the lighthearted expression she had just been wearing replaced by something deadly serious.

Erwin and Hange were already moving, Mikasa, Eren, and Jean right on their heels as they rushed toward the door.

The rest of the scouts were frozen in shock, their hands hovering near their weapons, their minds still struggling to process what was happening.

And then—

BOOM!

The doors to the mess hall slammed open with such force that the hinges nearly broke.

And stepping in, bathed in the dim light of the overcast sky, dripping with blood, was the last person Selena ever wanted to see.

Salamander.

Kwasi.

He was exactly as she remembered.

Tall and broad-shouldered with a powerful, muscular frame. His deep brown skin gleamed under the dim light, splattered with fresh crimson, and his long dreadlocks were pulled back from his face, revealing sharp features and those dark, piercing eyes.

The black assassin’s gear clung to his body like a second skin, and in his hands were his broadswords, still dripping with the blood of whatever poor souls had the misfortune of standing in his way.

The scent of iron filled the room.

Selena’s blood boiled.

For a second, no one moved.

No one breathed.

Levi’s grip on his weapons tightened, his entire body coiled and ready. He had never seen this man before, but he didn’t need to. He knew exactly who he was.

The way Selena had gone still at the sight of him, the way her hands curled into fists at her sides, the pure hatred in her poison-green eyes—

There was no mistaking it.

This was him.

The real threat.

Kwasi’s lips stretched into a smirk, his eyes locked onto Selena like a predator that had just cornered its prey.

But it wasn’t just hunger in his eyes.

It was something worse.

Something dangerous.

And when he spoke, his deep voice was like a slow, taunting drawl, soaked in amusement.

“Damn, kitten…” he murmured, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip as his gaze traveled up and down her frame. “You look just as sexy as ever.”

Selena’s fingers twitched toward the cutlery on the table.

Kwasi’s smirk widened.

“Did you miss me?”

Selena lunged.

The fork and knife in her hands whipped through the air, flying toward Kwasi’s smug face—

CLANG!

With a lazy flick of his wrist, he deflected them effortlessly, sending them clattering against the floor.

And then he laughed.

A deep, rumbling laugh that sent a white-hot fury straight through Selena’s veins.

“Oh, come on now,” he chuckled, tilting his head as he grinned at her. “Is that any way to greet the love of your life?”

Selena saw red.

Her body was already moving, ready to rip him apart—

But then—

A new sound cut through the room.

A sharp scrape of metal against leather.

Levi.

His blades were drawn.

He was already in motion, stance low, dangerous.

But Kwasi’s attention finally shifted.

And when those cold, grey eyes landed on him, Kwasi grinned wider.

“Well, well, well…” he hummed, voice dripping with amusement. “You must be him. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.”

Levi’s grip tightened on his blades, but his expression remained unreadable.

Kwasi’s gaze flicked back to Selena.

“So,” he continued, his smirk growing, “this is the man you think can replace me?”

Selena’s entire body went rigid.

Kwasi chuckled darkly.

“That’s adorable, kitten,” he taunted, eyes gleaming. “Truly. But tell me…” He lifted one of his bloodied swords, angling the tip toward Levi. “Does he even know what you like yet? Does he know how you sound when you moan from pleasure? Does he know how your body looks and feels under the moonlight? I do. I know everything about you.”

Selena felt something snap inside her.

Levi spoke before she could.

“You talk too much,” Levi muttered, his voice like ice.

Kwasi grinned.

“Ah, I like your attitude, Ackerman.” He tilted his head, studying Levi with an expression of intrigue. “Tell me something, Captain…”

Levi said nothing.

Kwasi chuckled.

“What’s it like?” he asked, taking a slow step forward. “Knowing the woman you’re protecting used to moan for me?”

The room froze.

Selena moved.

Faster than she ever had before.

Her blade sliced toward Kwasi’s throat.

But—

He caught her wrist.

And grinned.

Levi snapped.

His body was a blur.

Blades swinging—

The fight had begun.

~

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[arcane-vagabond]

I wanna see Jakes POV of rescuing Skipper, I just wanna know what he was thinking, whether he was panicked or pissed at Mickey for not sailing safely…I’m just imagining his emotions and how he felt when he realized it was Skipper who was drowning

Yeah, what was he thinking??

Jake had warned them, and they still were out well past the point of needing to return. He had ditched Reuben, Bradley, and Javy in favor of following you and the rest of his friends out into the sea.

He was careful to not be spotted, knowing that he'd never hear the end of it from Nat if he were. She'd complain that they knew what they were doing, but as he watched the waves become rougher, he found himself not being so sure. He knew that Bob, Nat, and Mickey were competent sailors, having grown up on the sea just like he did, but with you on the boat with them, he couldn't stop the feeling of dread that settled in his stomach.

"They're never going to let us hear the end of it if they find out we stayed out this long," he heard Mickey grumble as he and Bob scrambled to prepare the ship to head back to shore.

"So hurry up and get us back to shore before they do," Nat snapped at him, her eye roll practically audible. Jake frowned. Too late for that, he thought to himself. He peeked over the side of the boat, catching sight of where you sat off to the side as the boys hurried to finish the preparations. He watched as your teeth bit into your bottom lip, eyes glancing around the boat. He wanted to reach out to you, comfort you, but he knew he couldn't expose himself like that.

"Alright, we're ready!" Bob called, and Mickey immediately started up the boat's engine. Jake swam after the boat, watching with anxious heartbeats every time it hit a particularly rough wave.

"Easy, Mickey!" Natasha called.

"I'm taking her as easy as I can!" He hollered back at her. Jake watched in horror as the largest wave yet rushed towards the boat. It hit the boat with a thundering crash, and he watched as someone hit the water, body twisting and turning as the current hit them over and over and over again.

"Y/n!"

Jake's heart stopped beating for a moment, the sound of your name falling from Bob's lips causing fear to jolt through him as he recognized your form struggling to right itself in the dark water. He watched as your arms thrashed out, bubbles rising from your lips.

C'mon, sweetheart, he thought desperately. He realized seconds later as your body started going limp that you were out of time. He shot forward, a desperate keen breaking free from his chest as he raced towards you. Seconds later, he grabbed you in his arms, making for the surface as he watched your still form slowly sinking into unconsciousness. He broke the surface, rain pouring onto the both of you as small waves rushed at you.

"C'mon, darlin'," he begged you. "Stay with me."

He heard you cough up the water in your lungs, groaning before your head hit his chest. Jake felt beyond helpless in that moment, and another keen broke past his lips as he held you tighter. Land. He had to get you to land. You'd be safe there.

Jake made sure you were secure in his hold before he swam as fast as he could towards the shore. He'd always been the fastest of his friends, and he swam with all his might to make it to the rocks along the shore in record time.

Minutes later, he had you laid down on the slick surface, the rain having stopped as quickly as it had started, the sun shining through small holes in the clouds. Jake looked over you, already finding small bruises along your skin that made him frown. The others would get an earful after this one, he'd make sure of it.

Jake didn't know when he had started singing, but the song felt as natural as breathing to him as he stared down at you. His fingers grazed your forehead as he wiped the hair off your face, and he frowned as he watched you try to open your eyes. That wouldn't do, he decided. You needed to rest after everything you had been through, and he was determined to take care of you.

"Sleep," he sang to you, the power surging through him. The magic had its desired affect, and he watched as your eyes closed once again, body beginning to relax. Jake wanted to hold you forever, knowing that it was his arms that could keep you safe from all else. You were his.

The very thought caused the more rational part of his brain to turn off, the primal creature in him taking over. The beast within him begged to taste you, and Jake obliged. He hadn't felt like this towards anyone, not even during his last frenzy five years ago. He was sure that thought should scare him, but it didn't. Jake wanted to possess you just as much as you already possessed him after one simple look.

Jake dragged his fingers down the side of your face and to your neck, turning your head so he could place soft, open-mouthed kisses on the skin where your neck met your shoulder. The beast glowed with pride as you let out a pleased whimper. He hushed you gently, wanting you to enjoy his ministrations, and you did so as you arched up into his touch. Jake continued to nuzzle into you, all thoughts replaced with the thought of how good you felt against him.

"Y/n!"

Jake smirked as you whined, reaching your hands up to touch him. He was near feral now, the smell of you driving him into the frenzied state that reached its peak once every five years. You were his, and he knew that some part of you knew that too. He would stake his claim on you, and then he would court you as was tradition. By summer's end, you would well and truly be his in every way that mattered. He would see to it.

"Skipper!"

Jake snarled at the sound of another male near his mate, and he quickly bit into the junction of your neck. You let out a pained cry at the sensation, and Jake quickly worked his tongue over the bite mark, his essence healing the wound and leaving you with a mark that would let every other sea person in the area know that you were being courted. This mark wasn't permanent, and Jake felt his skin heat up at the thought of what it was going to be like when he placed the permanent one in the same spot.

With an inhuman determination, he pulled away from you. He watched just long enough to see you reach out for him, and beast within him begged him to return to your embrace. He caught the sight of his friends from the corner of his eye as they neared you, and with every ounce of strength within him, he pushed himself back into the waiting waters.

[cailinsblog]

A Day at the Pumpkin Patch- Charles leclerc

Charles leclerc x reader

This one is long I hope you guys like it

The crisp autumn air hung gently over the rolling hills of the French countryside as the Leclerc family made their way to the pumpkin patch. It was a perfect fall day—the kind where the sky was a brilliant shade of blue, and the orange and yellow leaves danced in the breeze. Charles had been looking forward to this day all week. With Formula 1 keeping him busy, moments like these with his family were precious, and today was extra special. His entire family was coming along, and little Cole, their 4-year-old son, was more excited than anyone.

As you, Charles, and Cole strolled hand in hand through the field, Charles squeezed your hand gently, a smile lighting up his face as he glanced at you. "Tu es prête pour une journée pleine de citrouilles, mon amour?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

You smiled back, adjusting Cole’s little beanie on his head. "I’m ready, but I think Cole’s been ready since last night. He couldn’t stop talking about pumpkins!"

Cole ran ahead, his tiny legs bouncing with excitement. His eyes were wide as he spotted the first row of pumpkins. “Maman, Papa! Look at all the pumpkins! Can I pick the biggest one?” he shouted back, his voice filled with awe.

Charles chuckled. "We might need a bigger car if you pick the biggest one, Cole."

As you approached the patch, Charles’ family arrived—his mother Pascale, his brothers Arthur and Lorenzo, and even some close family friends. The warmth of family added to the already perfect day. Pascale immediately scooped Cole up, peppering his face with kisses as he giggled, his eyes—identical to Charles’—sparkling with joy.

"Tu as grandi tellement vite, Cole," Pascale said with a smile, brushing his messy brown hair from his face. "Aujourd'hui, on va choisir la plus belle citrouille, d'accord?"

“Oui, Mamie!” Cole beamed, clearly loving the attention from his grandmother.

The group wandered through the pumpkin patch, everyone laughing and chatting as they selected the perfect pumpkins. Cole, of course, insisted on picking up pumpkins that were almost as big as he was, but Arthur and Lorenzo were quick to swoop in and help him lift the enormous gourds.

Charles stayed close to you, his arm wrapped around your waist as you both watched Cole. "Look at him," Charles whispered, his voice soft with love. "I can’t believe how fast he’s growing up."

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "He’s got your energy, that’s for sure," you teased, looking up into his familiar green eyes. "And your eyes."

Charles smiled, squeezing you tighter. "Et toi, tu as son cœur," he said softly. "He’s a mama’s boy, and I love that."

Cole ran back to the two of you, proudly holding a medium-sized pumpkin. “This one’s perfect for carving, Papa!” he declared, his face flushed from the excitement.

Charles bent down to inspect the pumpkin. "You did a great job, buddy," he said, ruffling Cole’s hair. "Let’s take this one home and make the best jack-o’-lantern ever."

As the afternoon passed, the Leclerc family enjoyed every moment. They took hayrides, sipped hot apple cider, and let Cole explore the patch, his laughter echoing through the crisp air. Charles’ brothers played with him, lifting him high into the air as he shrieked with joy. Pascale took pictures of the whole family, capturing the precious memories.

When the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, the group gathered around a picnic table they had claimed earlier. Arthur had brought a thermos of hot chocolate, and Pascale handed out cookies she had baked earlier that morning.

Charles leaned over to you as Cole sat on your lap, tired from the day’s excitement. "I wish I could freeze days like this," he said softly, kissing the top of your head. "Just the three of us, with family… it’s perfect."

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of Cole’s face as he rested his head on your chest, eyelids growing heavy. "Me too," you whispered. "These are the moments I want to hold onto forever."

As the final glow of the sunset faded, the group packed up their pumpkins and began the journey home. Charles carried Cole in his arms, the little boy’s head resting peacefully on his father’s shoulder. The cool night air had set in, but you felt warm, surrounded by love and family.

Back at home, after Cole had been tucked into bed, you and Charles sat on the couch, cuddled under a blanket, reminiscing about the day.

"I think Cole’s going to dream about pumpkins tonight," you joked, resting your head on Charles' chest.

He chuckled softly. "Maybe we’ll wake up to him asking to go back tomorrow."

You smiled, feeling content and at peace. "I wouldn’t mind that."

Charles pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you close. "Je t’aime," he whispered, his voice full of love.

"I love you too," you whispered back.

The warmth of the day lingered long after you closed your eyes, knowing that days like these—filled with laughter, love, and family—were what made life truly special. And with Charles by your side, every moment felt like the perfect adventure.

[snowseasonmademe]

La terre a besoin de l’océan (chapter 5)

word count: 3,202

pairing: Jules Koundé x Imani Taylor

warning ‼️: smut. death (sorry guys).

summary: Poet and new mother Imani is navigating life after birth, co-parenting her daughter with the man she once thought she'd marry-Barcelona footballer Jules Koundé. Though their relationship ended, the love between them never truly disappeared, simmering beneath shared responsibilities and lingering touches. As they rebuild trust and reimagine their future, Imani must decide if the life she walked away from is the one she's meant to return to.

fc: @/ tatyanaalli_

tag list: @sucredreamer @irishmanwhore @dexastres @coffeevacation @goldenngt

@btslover117 @kennaskorner

@leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro

@jessnotwiththemess @thepointlessideas

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Imani left the living room with the taste of Jules still lingering on her lips and the heat of his skin still warming her palms. Her hands were trembling. Her breath was shallow. She shut the door behind her, leaned against it, and slid down until she was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to her chest.

Her heart raced. Her eyes welled with tears before she even had the chance to think too hard. But then the thoughts came crashing in like a wave against a brittle dock. That kiss—soft and deep and full of emotion—wasn’t just a kiss. It cracked open something inside her that she’d been holding together with sheer will. Something she thought she had packed away forever.

She thought they were done.

She thought she was fine with co-parenting and nothing more.

She thought she could be content watching him play with their daughter, smiling across the breakfast table, sharing quiet laughter and the occasional brush of hands.

But that kiss—God, that kiss—made her ache with the truth.

She wanted him.

Still.

More than ever.

Imani climbed into bed but didn’t find rest. Instead, she stared out her window with glassy eyes, watching the sun arc across the sky in slow motion. The world outside kept moving. Cars passed. Neighbors walked their dogs. Clouds shifted shapes and shadows. And she just sat there—thinking, crying, thinking and crying—until her body ached with it.

Meanwhile, Jules sat alone on the couch, his fingers nervously threading through his locs. His chest still buzzed from the feel of her. Her lips, her voice, the way her hands had instinctively touched his chest—it all haunted him. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, his eyes distant.

What went wrong?

Was he selfish for kissing her?

Did he move too fast?

He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t planned to. But she looked so beautiful sitting there in his shirt, teasing him like old times, her legs bare, her mouth soft. And for a moment, it felt like they were back to being them. No tension. No timelines. Just love. Real and familiar.

He got up slowly, padding quietly to her door. He rested his forehead and hand against it. He could hear her crying. Soft, muffled, but real. His heart clenched in his chest.

He knew her better than anyone. When Imani was hurt like this, she didn’t want to be comforted. Not yet. She needed space to breathe and room to think. So, he didn’t knock. Didn’t call out. He just stood there—offering her his presence in the only way he knew how.

Moments later, the sound of the front door opening broke the silence.

“Papaaaaa… papaaaaa…” came Danielle’s sleepy murmur from her stroller seat as they rolled in.

“Hi Jules,” Sofia chirped.

“Hey Jules,” Inez added with a grin.

“Sup Jules,” Kaya mumbled, clearly focused on her snack bag.

Jules turned, standing up straighter.

“This baby of yours was gettin’ cranky,” Inez said, unbuckling Danielle, “so we had to come back from the park early. I think she want her papa to put her down for a nap. She was reachin’ for you the whole way up.”

Jules reached out instinctively, taking Danielle in his arms. She immediately quieted, her tiny fingers curling in his locs.

“Ms. Taylor” Sofia said, brushing her hands off, “why don’t we catch up in the sunroom while Kaya eats her snack? I still need to hear about your man—”

Inez laughed. “Oh girl, say less.”

Sofia turned to Jules and whispered as she passed, “Don’t worry. We’ll give you space, mi amor.”

They all split into their rhythms. Inez and Sofia disappeared into the sunroom, gossip and laughter trailing behind them like perfume. Kaya sat at the kitchen island, legs swinging as she munched on crackers and apple slices.

Jules took Danielle into the nursery and dimmed the lights. He held her close, swaying gently, humming low in his throat. The golden light of the late afternoon sun filtered through the window, bathing the room in a soft amber glow. It lit his bare chest, the muscles in his arms, the curve of his neck as he bowed his head to kiss Danielle’s forehead.

And that’s how Imani found him.

Her breath caught at the doorway.

The man she loved—yes, still loved—rocking their daughter to sleep with so much tenderness it made her knees weak. His skin glowed under the sunlight, his arms strong and sure, his eyes soft and focused.

“Hey” she whispered.

Jules turned around slowly. His expression changed the second he saw her: her red, swollen eyes, her sweater hanging loosely off one shoulder, her pajama pants dragging over her feet.

He laid Danielle in her crib and came to her without hesitation. His arms wrapped around her, strong and gentle. She collapsed into him, holding him tightly, like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Her hands pressed flat against his bare back. His arms circled her shoulders. One hand gently cradled the back of her head.

“I’m sorry” he said softly, placing a kiss to her braids.

“No, Jules… I overreacted” she murmured into his chest. “It’s not like we haven’t kissed before”

He pulled back just enough to look at her. “We kiss before, yes. But you weren’t ready… I feel it.”

“I wasn’t… but that was still a bit dramatic”

His lips twitched at the corners, just barely.

She looked up at him. “I, um—”

Her voice caught in her throat. She hated this part. The part where she had to speak her truth. But she reminded herself: He’s safe. He’s yours. He’s always been.

“I do want you too, Jules” she admitted. “I’ve been fighting it. For weeks. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t just… postpartum hormones, or seeing you with her. I didn’t want it to be temporary”

His hand moved up to caress her cheek.

“I understand, ma chérie. Truly. You don’t need to explain.”

“I just… I needed to be sure” she whispered. “But I miss you. I really do.”

“Mon cœur… we can do this” he said, his voice full of that beautiful French lilt. “Don’t be scared. I am here.”

She melted into his arms again.

For the first time in a long time, the idea of them didn’t feel like pressure.

It felt like home.

~~~~~

Inez and Kaya left that night, their luggage wheeled down the front steps, the cab humming outside with soft yellow headlights in the dark. The goodbye was bittersweet—warm hugs, a thousand kisses to Danielle’s soft cheeks, and promises to FaceTime every night.

“Y’all be good” Inez said, tugging Imani into one last hug. “Don’t let that man get on your nerves too much” she added in a whisper, smirking.

Imani smiled through the tightness in her chest. “Love you Ma.”

“Love you more. Call me if you need anything. And I mean anything, Mani. You know I’ll hop back on that plane real quick if I have to.”

Kaya hugged Jules tight too. “Bye bye, Jules! Be nice to my sista!”

“I will, Kaya. Don’t worry” Jules said, smiling, his French accent curling gently around the words.

The front door closed behind them with a soft click, and just like that, the house felt quieter. Emptier. But not heavy—no, the air felt lighter. The past week had been something soft and healing. And since that night in the nursery, when Imani broke open in his arms and let the truth spill out… things had shifted.

Imani and Jules moved around each other differently now. They touched more, held glances longer, allowed themselves moments of sweetness they used to avoid for fear of crossing a line. The line was gone now. Or maybe they’d both stepped over it without even noticing.

Even Danielle noticed. Every time Jules leaned over to kiss Imani’s cheek or Imani brushed his curls back and kissed his forehead, Danielle would squeal, “Mama kith! Papa kith!”

~~~~~~

March 15th.

Today was supposed to be a big day. Imani had a major Gmail meeting about her next book, The Sun, The Moon, and The Sunrise. Everyone would be there—editors, co-writers, managers, publicists, even the head of the publishing house. It had been months in the making. Her stomach fluttered with nerves, but she felt ready. For once, she felt grounded. She had her family, her daughter, and Jules—showing up for her in ways she hadn’t even known she needed.

Before he left for training that morning, Jules kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “I made your matcha, mon cœur. Eet’s in the fridge, perfect temperature.”

She smiled at the memory now as she stood in front of her full-length mirror in a soft knit dress, a glass of champagne in one hand and her phone in the other. Just a little sip to calm her nerves.

Danielle sat on the bed behind her, clapping two clean diapers together like cymbals, drool slipping down her chin. Imani laughed gently. “You the silliest baby alive.”

Danielle suddenly paused. “Titi Kenny? Mama… Titi Kenny?”

Imani’s breath caught. She turned to look at her daughter, who was now staring up at her with wide eyes.

“Yes, baby… we’ll see her soon. I know she misses you so much” Imani said softly, finishing Danielle’s hair and slipping her into her little spring jacket.

That’s when her phone rang. “Ma” lit up the screen.

She picked up with a smile. “Hey, Ma. I’m getting ready for the meeting right now—can I call you back in a bit?”

There was silence on the other end. Not the usual pause before a joke or a light comment. Just a stillness that made the hair on Imani’s arms stand up.

“Mani” Inez finally said. Her voice was low. Heavy. “Can you sit down somewhere fuh a minute? I gotta tell you somethin’.”

Imani’s heart dropped into her stomach.

She placed Danielle gently back on the bed and sat down beside her.

“Ma… what happened? You okay? Kaya okay?” she asked, tone calm but eyes wide with panic. She had learned how to stay level-headed in crisis. It was instinct by now.

“I’m okay. Kaya’s okay. But… Kennedy” Her mother exhaled through the phone. “Baby… Kennedy passed this morning.”

Imani blinked. “What?”

“She got pneumonia while she was in Africa and… she didn’t tell nobody. Not even her family. She didn’t wanna worry anyone.”

The silence that followed was loud.

Imani looked at Danielle. Her baby girl was quiet, looking at her with a strange sort of knowing.

“Okay…” Imani said, numb. “I’ll call you back later, Ma. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. We here for you, okay? Don’t shut down on us.”

But she already had.

The thing about Imani was that grief never hit her all at once. It was slow. Creeping. She didn’t scream or fall apart. When her grandmother died, she didn’t cry until three months later while folding laundry. When her favorite high school teacher passed, it took her a month to even feel it. It wasn’t that she didn’t care—her heart just protected itself in strange ways.

She sat still, staring into space. Danielle reached out to touch her hand, but Imani didn’t move.

Her phone rang again. It was Aaron, her publicist.

She answered on autopilot.

“Hey Mani! You ready? Today’s the day. How far are you?” he asked excitedly.

She swallowed. Cleared her throat.

“Hey, Aaron… um… we’re gonna have to postpone. There’s been a… a death. I just need—”

“You don’t have to explain a thing” he said gently. “We got you. I’ll take care of everything. Call me when you’re ready, okay?”

“Okay… thank you.”

She hung up and looked at herself in the mirror again. Her eyes looked different now. Empty. Raw.

She opened Instagram. Her fans would need to know. And she couldn’t pretend she was okay.

⸻

“Due to an unexpected personal loss, all events, meetings, and book-related updates are on pause for the time being. Thank you for your patience and grace. Hug your people tightly today. Love always, Imani🖤.”

~~~~~

Imani lay on the bed with Danielle on her chest, breathing slow and quiet. There were no thoughts, no sharp emotions. Just stillness. Like her body had gone numb to protect itself.

Another thing about Imani—she was good at hiding. Hiding her pain, her worry, her heartbreak. She could bottle it all up neatly, like a poem sealed in an envelope with no address. Not until she felt safe enough to open it, to feel it.

But today… today she had to move. She sat up slowly, careful not to wake Danielle, and laid her gently on the bed. She stared at her daughter’s little face for a long time, almost as if it grounded her. Then she turned, numb and automatic, to get dressed.

She pulled on a sleek black outfit—clean lines, tailored, quiet luxury. Fitting for a woman in mourning who still needed to look like herself. Her hair was done, but her eyes were hollow. Danielle wore a soft navy-blue fleece set with gold stars stitched into the cuffs. She dressed her gently, kissed her curls, and held her close.

In the foyer, she found Sofia zipping up the diaper bag, preparing to head home. Her friend looked up and paused. “Imani…” she said softly, her Spanish accent laced with concern. She looked at her—into her—and the moment stretched. Imani could’ve burst into tears from that look alone. But she didn’t. She just blinked.

“It’s okay. I know” Sofia whispered. “And I’m here.”

Imani nodded, tight-lipped, with a tired smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She slipped on her shoes, gathered Danielle into her arms, and walked out to the waiting SUV where Peaches, her driver, was already holding the door open.

“How’s it goin’, Ms. Taylor?” Peaches asked, his southern American accent thick, as she slid in, laying Danielle in her lap.

“Been better. Been worse” she replied, voice even.

That wasn’t the truth—but Imani never let people know too much.

“I do wish it’d get warm already” she added after a pause, brushing Danielle’s curls back gently. “I miss the sun”

Peaches looked at her through the rearview mirror. “Things’ll bloom soon” he said quietly. “The sun’ll come out again. It’s about time you get to see the beautiful world again.”

Imani’s breath caught.

“The sun will come out again”

Kennedy used to say that to her all the time, especially when Imani was being dramatic about something or spiraling after a rejection letter or a heartbreak. It was her way of saying, you’ll get through this. It’s not over.

Imani had always been the rock—stable, reliable, grounding. But Kennedy… Kennedy was the wind that pushed the rock off a steep hill. She showed the rock it could move. That there were other things to see if it would just let go.

And now the wind was gone.

~~~~~

When they arrived at the stadium, Danielle woke up with a little gasp and a wiggle, her eyes wide at the sight of the roaring crowd. She squealed and clapped like she understood every moment of the game. When the camera panned over to the players’ families in the second half, it landed on them—Imani and Danielle—and the crowd let out a warm, echoing cheer.

Danielle, ever the show-stealer, waved her chubby baby hand with a gummy grin. The stadium sighed in unison with an “awww.”

Imani looked down at the pitch and caught Jules smiling up at them, but her heart cracked under the weight of it. He had no idea.

Except—he did.

He saw her the second she arrived, noticed the eerie stillness in her face, the forced softness in her shoulders. When he returned to the locker room for halftime, he checked his phone.

One missed call from Inez.

One message:

“Kennedy passed. Please take care of Mani, Jules. Love you.”

And now, on top of everything, they were losing. Badly. 4-0. Their bodies were exhausted, legs like bricks, hearts deflated.

When the whistle blew, Jules barely looked up. He didn’t care about the final score. Not right now. He only cared about her.

After the match, he climbed into the back of the SUV. Danielle chirped a sleepy “Papa” but Imani stayed quiet, her body language still wrapped in sorrow.

He didn’t say anything. Just leaned over and kissed her cheek. Then he pulled Imani into his arms, wrapping her tightly against him. His hand rested on her lower back, his other on her thigh. He held her like he knew—because he did. His hug said: I see you. I’m here. I promise.

She rested her head on his shoulder and let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

They both felt defeated—in different ways. Her heart was broken. His was aching for her. Neither of them spoke as they entered the house later that night, just moving in quiet rhythm. They gave Danielle her bottle, bathed her in silence, and put her to sleep. Her little chest rising and falling between them, unaware of the grief wrapped around her parents.

Once she was asleep, something shifted.

Imani walked past him in the hallway and Jules reached for her. She stopped. Looked up at him.

And then they crashed into each other like waves meeting land.

They didn’t speak.

They couldn’t.

She pulled him into their bedroom, mouths already desperate, arms already pulling, tugging. He kissed her like he needed to remember what it felt like to be alive. She kissed him like she needed to disappear inside someone else just to breathe.

They got intimate.

No.

They made love.

No.

They fucked.

Hard and deep.

Begging and shaking.

Gripping and grabbing.

Rough and needy.

Wet and loud.

Like they hated each other.

But they didn’t. No.

They were soulmates.

The water to the earth.

The bullet to the gun.

The love of each other’s lives.

And they knew it.

Imani’s nails dug into his back as he moaned her name in that French lilt, broken and low. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her open like a prayer. She cried into his shoulder, sobs escaping as he moved inside her—not from the pain, but from the grief, the surrender.

Jules kissed every tear from her cheek, whispering, “Je suis là…, mon cœur… I got you, always…”

Her body trembled beneath him, unraveling like a storm, her sobs blending with moans. His name left her lips in shattered syllables.

And still, they moved together.

Fast. Slow. Fast again.

Rough. Sweet. Desperate.

Their rhythm not just physical, but spiritual. Like their souls were meeting again for the first time in a long time.

And when they finally collapsed together—sweaty, breathless, spent—he held her tighter than ever. Her face pressed against his chest, his arms cocooning her body.

“I miss her” she whispered against his skin. “I miss her so bad it hurts.”

“I know” he murmured. “I know, bebe. I’m here.”

The room was quiet. Safe. Sacred.

Imani closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel all of it.

The grief.

The love.

The ache.

The relief of not having to hold it alone.

[8-rae-rae-8]

May I please request,,,, a itty ghost hurt/comfort (heavy on comfort) w cg soap? The demons got to me today and I can’t stop thinking about baby si just being inconsolable until soap comes and picks him up and gently rocks him-

-💖

YES U MAY

1.4k words

It was a bad day. A bad emotion day, as the 141 fondly called it. There were small disagreements that turned to full on arguments simply because Ghost metaphorically woke up on the wrong side of the bed. As far as the rest of them could see, he just needed to de-stress, they couldn’t see the darker eye bags underneath the eyeblack and mask. He needed what he refused to ask for; gentle love, care and rest. But mostly less stress. Johnny was right there, waiting for him to slip so he could catch him with open arms.

All day was spent mostly walking on eggshells until Simon crashed. 

Crashed. Not slipped. 

The man crashed in bed. Curled up into as tight of a ball as he could manage, and he slept. The nightmares clawed his brain till he tossed and turned loud enough to alert others. It was Soap who rushed in the second he was aware of the worrying sounds of the beds movement and the shuffling from behind the closed door. 

Upon entering, it was clear just how distressed Ghost was in his sleep. His mask damp at the neck and forehead with sweat. Small whimpers fell from his lips, grumbles low in his chest added to the trembling of his shoulders. His eyeblack smudging away after each movement of his head that pulled his mask with it. A pillow was held tightly to his chest. 

In an instant, as if he sensed Johnny’s presence, Simon jolted off of the pillows. Tears welled in his eyes, his eyes jumping from spots around the room until he saw Soap near the door. The sobs then fully came out, reaching out and grasping at air. 

“Buu-uh-bba!!” He cried, the tears mixing with sweat and eyeblack that eventually soaked the eye of his mask. Simon grabbed at the air near Soap, cries only growing louder.

Johnny looked frazzled at the sudden cry and change in position, then again, he knew just how bad Simon’s dreams could mess with him. He could only imagine the hell that was happening in his head. He stepped forward and quickly scooped Simon into his arms. Even as tall and heavy as Ghost was, Soap couldn’t ever say no. He even went to the lengths to buff himself up enough to hold the little one and still be comfortable. 

“Bubba’s here, Bubba’s got ye.” Soap softly settled Simon in his arms, all gentle love. Kisses were placed on Simon’s masked face as Johnny rocked him slowly. 

Inconsolable for minutes at a time, Johnny barely managed to get his mask off and a pacifier in his mouth before he rushed to grab the rest of Simon’s regressing gear. A diaper was a must. Especially after a nap with nightmares. Holding Simon was certainly a task while the little one cried and cried.

Laying him down was even more of a nightmare. 

Simon practically screeched as he was laid down, nonsense babbles of jumbled words came from him the second he was placed down. Lots of ‘up’s, and ‘bubba’s. 

The little one didn’t quite see that he needed to be padded up in times like this. But Johnny worked fast, even with Simon kicking his weak, tired, legs. He was padded up in just a few minutes then Simon was back in his arms. Just a hoodie on to cover him, his hoodies being on the baggy side helped with that. Soap rocked with Simon in his arms, slow and stable movement.

“I know.. Bubba’s got ye now. It’s all okay..” Soap placed soft kisses along Simon’s face, wiping away the tears though it smudged the eyeblack. 

Simon’s cheek mushed against Soap’s palm the moment he was close enough to get that contact. His cries became a bit more muted as the contact persisted. Johnny’s hand stroked away each tear that fell down his cheek.

“Yeah.. Bubba’s here.” Johnny whispered softly. “You’re so brave, M'eudail.. So brave facin’ those nightmares all on yer own, hm?” He praised as he kissed his nose.

A weak giggle was given to the kiss, teary and glassy eyes peering up at Johnny. The darkness in the corners of his eyes began to fade, brushing away all those monsters from his perception.

“Yeah! Bubba’s so proud of ye, ‘m so so proud.” The carer grinned down at Simon. “My wee lad.” He cooed.

Simon tearily looked up at him, tears steadily dripped down his cheeks till a stop. He babbled quietly up at Soap, putting his fingers in his mouth to chew on. The tears stained his cheeks with smudged eyeblack. He blinked up at him.

“Ah,” Johnny tsked as he chuckled, “No chewin’ on yer fingers, Si.” He removed the little one’s hand from his mouth, leaning over to the side table of the bed to grab Simon one of his pacifiers from the drawer. Seeing Simon calm down so quick just from being rocked by him warmed his heart.

The pacifier was gently popped into his mouth, and Johnny slowly began to sit down with him on the side of the bed. It only took a second for Simon to start fussing at that. The pacifier bobbed in his mouth as he began to wiggle in his lap. 

“Ye just wanna be rocked, is tha’ it, cutie?” Johnny fondly shook his head. He grunted as he stood up with Simon, rocking him slowly once again. 

It worked quickly, Ghost quieted down and rested his head down on Soap’s chest. Just over his heart like always, listening to the steady beat like it was a lullaby. 

“Yeah… ye just wanna rock with me, hm?” He kissed his head gently. He could clean Simon’s face later, he just needed the boy to be comfortable before he added any tasks to their day. 

“Bubba…” Simon babbled behind his pacifier, blinking up at him. One of his hands rested gently on Soap’s chest as he played with the fabric by rolling it between his fingers.

“What’s up, lad?” Johnny softly bounced him to get him in a more comfortable position for the both of them. He smiled down at Simon, giving a gentle hum of encouragement. 

Simon didn’t quite respond, huffing a little and nuzzling up to him instead. He grabbed a fistful of Johnny’s shirt to hold tightly. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Mo ghraidh.” Soap kissed his head. He never stopped rocking him, swaying happily with Simon in his arms as he occasionally took a few steps to keep up with movement. 

“Bubba p’omise..?” Simon murmured, hardly intelligible behind the pacifier.

“Bubba promises.” Johnny assured him. A sweet grin spread across his face as he watched Simon melt against him at that. “I’ve got ye, love, rest those eyes.” He rubbed his back in slow motions.

He couldn’t quite say no to that. Simon closed his eyes, despite fighting it the whole time. He kept his head firmly pressed against Johnny’s chest, listening for both the rumble of his voice and his heartbeat.

When his eyes shut, there wasn’t anything scary waiting to grasp him from the safety of his carer’s arms. Instead, he found warmth and safety in the void of nothingness. No hands dared to pull him under the water, nothing shouted to him, nothing clawed at him. It was all safe instead. Soap’s soft murmuring of sweet words and assurances kept him afloat, he even got a few kisses.

Sleep was far away. That wasn’t the intention. He removed the stressful excess stimuli that kept his head running a mile a minute and simply trusted that Johnny would keep him safe. To watch out for him. And he always did, always had his six.

“I love you, Si.” He heard Soap whisper to him while gently pressing their foreheads together. 

Simon felt his gentle breaths against his face, relaxing further at the close proximity. Rather than forcing the words out, he babbled happy, but sleepy, nonsense in response. Of course with a goofy little smile as well, he couldn’t help it.

“There’s a smile..” Johnny purred, pulling back a little before planting a kiss to his nose. 

The little one babbled quietly before he simply hummed. He comfortably settled, deep breaths filling his lungs again. 

As always, Soap caught him when he fell. Picked him up when he broke. Ran to him when he was distressed and fixed him right up. Made the world right again.

This will probably be uploaded to ao3 later today !!