#just my opinion and observations after a year and a bit here

[lup-ines]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS/NOTES (18+)

by lup-ines

1. Venus-Ascendant aspects are often known as THE beauty indicators in astrology, but in my opinion, I think Neptune-Ascendant deserves the title more. Neptune-ASC aspects are often found in the beauty icons of the world, and in comparison to Venus-ASC beauty, Neptune-ASC beauty gives more of an “other-worldly”, “she’s not from here” vibe (I will make a post about this).

2. Aquarius men and Virgo men are the same people, Aquarius men are just stranger.

3. When Mars transits over your 1st, 5th, or 8th, you tend to attract more sexual partners/attention.

4. Neptune in the 11th house people are may be blessed with friends that are artistic, loving, and caring but they often have a lot of friends that are secret haters.

5. Saturn in the 10th requires a lot of hard work before you actually get the flowers you deserve. Saturn in the 10th is the definition of the underdog. Often people with this placement find that they are constantly underestimated by those who work with them, but when they persevere wealth, fame, and admiration follow them. This can also mean get praise in the later part of your life (usually after your Saturn return).

For example, Queen Elizabeth II has Saturn in her 10th. At the time of her coronation, she was only 25 years old. This caused a lot of chatter due to many people thinking that she was too young and unfit to rule as a queen. As she got older, she slowly started to gain the respect and love from the people around her and had a VERY long career (Saturn in the 10th often indicates a stable/long career life depending on how it is aspected in your chart).

6. Fire signs moons/venuses (sometimes mars) have no concept of hiding their feelings for someone. When they like you, YOU WILL KNOW. If you’re confused, they probably don’t like you.

7. If you ever find yourself in bed with an aries mars or someone with mars in their 1st, pull their hair a little bit and watch what happens 😉

8. Leo placements have celebrity energy without even trying.

9. In 2024, Gemini risings and those with heavy gemini placements will see a boost in attention (good and bad depending on your chart) and popularity because of Jupiter moving into Gemini.

[gloomygumi]

quirks - satoru gojo x gn!reader

summary: part two︱you like to think you’re aware of all of satoru’s quirks, but shoko thinks you may have missed a few.

contents: fluff, newly realised feelings, highschool!gojo, he's honestly not even actually there for a lot of it, shoko and geto are tho, honestly a little bit of whipped gojo, probably ooc but definitely self indulgent

word count: 1.2k

a/n: how are we coping since 236 guys ????? wrote this feeling like i’d been widowed so i guess this counts as my coping mechanism 😭 hope you enjoy anyway, constructive criticism and any ideas or opinions you have are always welcome !!

in your past year of knowing satoru gojo, you’d made a note of his multiple quirks.

you noticed how when the group of second years went out to eat together at the weekends, he would whine about how good everyone else’s food looks until everyone at the table took pity (or annoyance, in suguru’s case) and spooned some of their meal onto his plate.

you noticed how when he was in class, listening to yaga drone on about the different types of curses, he would never let all of the legs of his chair rest on the ground. he was constantly swinging back and forth. it’s a miracle that he’s never fallen back, you think.

you even noticed how he somehow kept a momento from every single hangout and mission, each of them stored in a little wooden box he kept on his bedside table back in the dorms. in the past, you’d seen him slide seemingly worthless ticket stubs and receipts into his pockets, and when the curiosity finally got the better of you and you asked what he did with them, you only received a cheeky grin and a wink from your friend.

so, when shoko finally told you some of her own observations of his behaviours and habits during your lunch break one day, it’s safe to say it shocked you.

“i think it’s pretty obvious that he likes you.” she speaks casually, as if her words hadn’t caused you to choke on your own food. she passes you her bottle of water and pats your back. “you couldn’t tell?”

after gulping down half of her water, and spluttering a few times, you finally found your voice, letting out a strangled “he’s my friend - he does not like me like that!”

the look shoko gives you is one of ridicule, but before she can say anything else, you quickly continue.

“how’d you even come to that conclusion anyway, you’re not usually much of a gossip. that’s suguru’s job." you attempt to joke, but you feel the strained smile drop from your face as the boy you mentioned approaches the table and plops down beside your friend.

speak of the devil...

you see shoko's eyes light up, but before you can even attempt to cut her off again, she turns to suguru. "geto! back me up here, isn't it so obvious that gojo likes (y/n)?"

"mhm." he hums, barely even acknowledging the fact that his confirmation has sent you spiraling for the second time. "he's not exactly subtle about it."

"you guys are being ridiculous."

now it's suguru's turn to look at you like you've suddenly grown two heads. "you really didn't know?"

shoko lets out a laugh at his genuine confusion, and reaches into her bag to pull out a cigarette. you quickly hand her a lighter you keep on hand just for moments like this and she quietly thanks you before continuing. "have you never noticed how he's always touching you in some way?"

"that's just how he is!" you defend. "he's always hanging off of suguru too!"

the pair in front of you share a look, before geto continues. "what about how he never lets you walk closest to the road?"

you stop for a second, trying to pinpoint an occasion - just one - where he had only to come up empty handed. in fact, the more you think about it, the more sense it makes. you replay your moments walking back to the dorms after class with satoru, with his arm always casually wrapped around your shoulder. you remember how he always looked comfortable and at peace. you even remember how he would gently bump you closer into the sidewalk if you were walking with someone else, sticking his tongue out at you and ruffling your hair if you voiced a complaint at his behaviour.

your mouth dries up as you try to come up with another excuse to brush off your friends' observations, but you start to question yourself.

maybe they're right...?

you shake you head, as if trying to clear your head of these thought. "he does that for everyone, you guys are just reading too much into it."

between drags of her cigarette, shoko chuckles. "he's never done it for me." geto leans forward from his seat across from you and gently flicks in between your eyebrows. your hand immediately clamps down on the spot, and you groan at him. "what was that for!?"

he ignores your dramatics. "why are you so sure that we're lying?"

his genuine question makes you stop to think. it wasn't that you didn't like gojo, in fact, you hadn't dedicated much time to thinking about him in that way at all. your friends being so insistent on the fact that he liked you made you slowly start to realise that maybe you did share some affections for the ill mannered boy.

you continue to mull over as many interactions and memories that you have shared with satoru, slowly connecting the dots in your head. he always was more gentle with you, never polite but always kind. he regularly brought you souvenirs back from missions that you weren't assigned to and he always insisted on sitting next to you on the train home, offering you the window seat every single time.

almost as if they can hear your inner monologue being to spiral, shoko pipes up once more. "he gave you a different ring tone so he'd know every time you call."

you feel your heart stop for a second, unsure as to why this in particular made you finally believe their words, but before you even have the opportunity to dismiss them again (now in an attempt to convince yourself more than them) you feel the seat beside you sink with additional weight and a familiar arm flung around your shoulder. you barely even register the smug smile shoko is flashing you from across the table as you focus on attempting to cool your face.

"i can't believe you guys started eating without me!" satoru whines, leaning even more heavily into your side. he makes quick work of plucking a large chunk of meat out of your bento, sending you a sly grin as you look up at him in dismay. "what were you guys talkin' about?"

suguru meets your eyes, raising his eyebrows as he meets your glare, urging him to shut his mouth. "oh nothing." he hums, before completely changing the subject.

the conversation from moments prior is still fresh in your mind, and you're now very aware of the soft glances gojo keeps sending your way. you suddenly feel a lot more awkward in his presence, and you barely notice how you're fidgeting with your hands under the table and not participating in the conversation anymore.

that is until you feel warm hands grip your own, effectively halting their movement. "you okay?" you can barely hear satoru over the blood pumping in your ears, and you're unaware of the laughs shoko and geto are trying desperately to hold back whilst watching the scene as you try to speak.

you start to wish your friends had kept their observations to themselves.

[pantheresssy]

CONQUERING.

—┊⋆ summary: you were a little bit older, who was looking for it? if you have a daughter too, who would care? paige didn’t until she was face to face with a overprotective 7-years-old little you.

—┊⋆ cw: r is on 30s and paige 22s, you also have a daughter, no smut this time only fluff, p is so sweet and i brought this here with ur baby, her name’s kayla btw just thought about it after reading a kk fic.

this is something im experiencing to see if anyone would like and want more of this dynamic.

IF SOMEONE told Paige that she would be sitting on a couch nervously cleaning her hands on her pants, all because of a 7-years-old child, she would laugh. It seemed weird, someone with her height, a basketball player, be afraid of someone so little that could cause no harm — but she was your daughter, a little you. That should frighten the toughest of the fighters.

On court, she was relaxed as if she was on her bed, but there, she was sweating while looking at the stairs you went up. You told her that your daughter’s opinion had so many value for you, and that was one of the — many — things that frightened her. If she didn’t like Paige, everything could go down. And that was the last thing she wanted to happen.

“Mommy,” she heard and swallowed. Little footsteps came along with yours, and the pink boots was the first thing she saw. Up close, she was more you than yourself was. From the hair to the nose, it was like a printer had made that child, even her voice was like yours, soft spoken, but in a more infant way.

Paige’s eyes followed up the girl’s extended arm, her hand being held by yours. She found your gaze and you raised your eyebrows, a sign for her to calm down. The words she was saying stopped when you bent down by her side, your cheek against your daughter’s. “Kayla, that’s Paige. The friend I told you about.”

The blonde smiled, nervously. Kayla looked at her up and down, as if she was a grown adult, and that was the most cutest, yet the most scary, ㅤׁthing. “Hi,” she said after analyzing Paige meticulously.

“Hey.” You brought her closer and sat by Paige’s side, the girl on your lap. With her nervousness, you were sure she would pass out in the middle of your couch. “I’m Paige.”

Your daughter shocked her head, humming. “I know. Mommy told me you were a basketball player.”

“I am.”

Kayla made a pout, lowering her eyes to your hands joined in her belly, taking one of your fingers to play with it. “I like volleyball more.”

You ran your hand through her hair and bit your lip to hold your laugh. You knew she was only doing that to know how Paige would react, to know if she could really like her. It was an old trick she used to know if someone was cool enough. “Yeah. K loves volleyball.” it was an attempt to help, but it fell into deaf ears.

Paige sat on her side, facing you. Her blue eyes passed to you, then back to Kayla. “It’s great.” she cleared her throat and kept looking for words. “Will you want to play one day?”

Your daughter made a face, shaking her head no. “I want to make movies.” she took your nail and started to remove removing your nail polish with hers. “Like mommy.”

Paige frowned her eyebrows. “She found a thing that I did when I was a teen and thought that it was a movie.” you kissed her ear, making her laugh. “But it was just a silly video.”

Her eyebrows were raised in surprise, but you dismissed it shrugging. “Why do you play basketball?” Kayla asked.

“I like it since I was younger than you.” Kayla’s eyes shone and she blinked, trying to pretend she wasn’t interested. “I started to play when I was five.”

Your daughter frowned her eyebrows, and Paige almost laughed of how much she was like you doing that. “Your mom let you do it?”

“My dad did.”

You could see that she was getting more excited to know everything and started to make more questions, in which Paige responded happily. You were sitting quiet, only observing while she talked about how she always can get the basket right.

When you first told Kayla that you had a famous friend and that she wanted to meet her, she quickly went to your phone and searched for Paige’s name — with some wrong letters of her non writing hands. She saw pictures, videos, anything that pops up when you put ‘Paige Bueckers’ on google. You knew that her interested was bigger than she showed, but she wanted that Paige conquered her to know if she was cool enough to be your friend. It wasn’t a common thing, but you were just letting it happen this time.

The talk kept going and you saw the blonde relaxing little by little, Kayla getting more open to talk and leaving aside her play pretend.

Her being just like you was a blessing and a curse. As a child, you were always asking so many questions, and she was doing too. But she had something you didn’t had when you were younger: a better perspective. So when, in the middle of the talk about basketball, she raised her head on your chest, looking at you from below, you imagined that she would say anything but what you tried not to make so obvious.

“Mommy is she your girlfriend?”

Your eyes widened and your breath cached on your throat. Paige was getting whiter — she was going sick right in front of your eyes and in seconds. Kayla was still looking at you waiting for answers while you sent looks of concern to the woman by your side. “Baby …” you started. “We are-“

But then it died before you could finish. She took your words as a yes before you could actually say it. “She is!?” her feet shook and she jumped on your legs, her head hitting your chin, your teeth making a bad noise when the ones below met the top ones hard. You moaned and put your tongue on your gums, trying to find any injury. “I’m sorry.”

Kayla’s eyes quickly filled with tears and she hugged your neck, burring her face there. You rubbed her back comforting her when hiccups shook her small body. “It’s ok, baby.”

Paige swallowed hard and checked if you were okay, still stunned, and you reassured her that you were. Her hand copied yours on Kayla. With a shared look, you told her she could say it. “Your mother and I like each other very much, K.” she said. “Would you let me be her girlfriend?”

The little girl sniffed and said, stuffing: “You should ask mom, not me.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head even though Kayla couldn’t see it. “I already did and she said yes, but we wanted you to agree. What you think is important.”

“Yes.”

Her sadness vanished just like that and she quickly went back to talking, asking Paige how she started — and if things kept that way, she quickly would stop wanting do movies. When both got more excited, Kayla made Paige held her in her arms, making an improvised basket with a bucket she hung on the wall, raising her to hit there with the ball. After getting it right, she would celebrate loud, saying that she was better than the blonde. And Paige never dared to disagree.

Later, when Kayla fall sleep after talking so much and with a sigh of relief from you, Paige and you sat on the couch, your back against her front and your fingers crossed with hers. “She liked you. A lot.”

She kissed your head and smelled your hair. ‘I’m happy she does. I almost shit on my pants.”

You laughed loud, closing your mouth when you remembered Kayla. She didn’t wake up so easily, specially not after spend so much energy, but you rather not risk it. “She’s 7, Paige Bueckers.”

She shrugged. “It’s your daughter, she has a lot of you in her … I’d like to not risk anything.”

You turned around and kissed her, sighing as she put more pressure on you. “You won’t. You conquered her just like you did to me.” you held her cheeks on your hand.

“I know.”

[mikiib]

The aftermath of freakshow Caine ‘marrying’ Pomni out of possession of her- his ‘doll’. She uses it as a chance to try to escape, but after what feels like years… she’s loosing her strength.

The song: Poison (Hazbin Hotel)

The only time she even sees other players is either Ables ‘pet’ Bird- a twisted experiment from a newer player to ‘humiliate’ his brother, OR when she’s preparing for a show- most often dominating in the games after LOTS of practice from the RUTHLESS Caine.

Caines wife can’t be seen as weak- after all she represents him and the circus.

So she uses dancing to fight, using her speed, flexibility and quick thinking to win against the other players- but against Jax? It’s always a mixed bag of wins…

If you’re curious about stuff that likely WON’T be in the music video that I thought about, I’m sure I will be making a whole post that will connect to each little topic! But here’s a few off the top of my head:

Ragatha is the only one she goes easy on. If she can spare a win for her, she does.

Pomni still maintains some pleasures for herself- she’s learned to ‘code’ a bit. Of course only with permission from Caine- she enjoys making small little trinkets and morphs (usually giving them or leaving them for the other players around their tents)

Because of her basic understanding of coding she is considered maintenance for the players for tiny fixes like torn clothes, small injuries and in general upkeep. A flower Kinger was observing got stepped on from Gangles AI twin on purpose? She can fix that. But you loose an eye or tongue or something that was meant to be a punishment from Caine or Able? You’re on your own.

She has learned to ‘like’ most of the other players outside of Jax. He’s relentless in his cruelty, and only got worse after Kaufmo abstracted.

Every win she makes she’s given a reward for- whether she wants it or not… and if she looses? A sleepless night of punishment. In Pomnis opinion, some rewards can be just as terrible as punishments.

Rewards:

- bath + pampering

- alcohol

- simulated sun room with a garden

- interacting with the other players for a celebration

- a new outfit (sometimes with bonus abilities)

- lavish dinner dates

- ‘love’ bites

Punishments

- training

- physical and mental abuse

- being paired against an abstracted human

- locked in the mansion for days on end with no stimulation

- going up against Jax, Zooble, or Gangle.

- being displayed as a ‘bad’ doll to the other circus members

And other things for literally everything, buuuuut imma keep them to myself for now :)

@hootbon is the original creator of the Freakshow AU!

@sm-baby is the person I originally found the AU through and BOTH inspired me to try my hand at this animatic. (And maybe a few more to come!)

[golbrocklovely]

the rakish gentlemen // sam and colby

A/N: just a general statement across the board: i'm not going for historical accuracy here. i did a very small amount of research for this, most of which was based on the language and some of the societal norms but even then, it wasn't a thorough search. so if things are incorrect or not quite right… that's why. also this is heavily inspired by my new found love for bridgerton, so anything in the story that reminds you of that (show or book wise) - that's also why lol anyone that writes regency romances or stories, props to you bc the formal English alone made me want to off myself. just kidding… but not really. anyway, i hope you enjoy this one. it was fun to write once i got the hang out it. lmk what you think and i'll see you guys with another fic (hopefully) soon :)

prompt: being out in society was enough of a challenge, but overhearing two very sought after lords' snide remarks about you made you want to give up altogether. that is until you hatch a plan - make them beg for your hand in marriage, and then leave them high and dry. it should be simple enough. || AU!regency era sam and colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: formal english (lol), historical inaccuracy, lots of 'samuel' and 'cole' so if you don't like that don't read lol, snc are kind of dicks but they turn it around by the end somewhat, just a whisper of smut but not really, cliff hanger ending??, heavy on gender norms of the time period so be weary of that if that's something you don't like, bit of angst, everyone is of age/in their 20s

word count: 6347

~~~~~~~~

The weather in London during the middle of spring was the absolute best time of year, according to most in the Ton. To Miss Y/N Y/L/N, it was the most splendid of weather to promenade with one's closest confidant, and for her that was Miss Amelia Ruteledge. The two had been inseparable since childhood, living across the street from one another. And coming out in society together only strengthened their bond over the last two seasons.

"How eager are you for Lady Gillingham's masquerade ball this evening?" Amelia asked, coyly stealing a glance at Y/N.

"I can hardly wait. I am positively elated." Y/N replied dryly, her faux smile wide.

"Y/N, must you indulge in sarcasm?" She questioned.

"Yes, Amelia. I must," a quiet laugh fell from her lips. "It is hard for me to be excited for yet another ball, one where I will again be doomed to the corner of the room, watching as others dance."

"I had presumed you enjoyed observing." Amelia teased.

"It is not as fun anymore, ever since your courtship with Viscount Throne began." Y/N sighed, wiping away pretend tears from her cheeks, "Alas, my spinsterhood is in full bloom."

She shook her head, patting Y/N's arm sweetly, "Don't be ridiculous. You are nowhere near being a spinster."

"I'm two years out in society with little to show for it. One might believe I had contracted the plague, given how much the gentlemen of the Ton disregard me." Y/N rolled her eyes, her voice bitter.

"You mustn't say that. You are an absolute catch, by all accounts." Amelia argued, looking into Y/N's eyes.

She huffed. "Thank you. But your opinion apparently is the only one that is favorable towards me."

"That is simply not true," she protested back. "I believe many gentlemen in the Ton would admire you once they were acquainted. But I would not be surprised if your charm and wit intimidate them, thereby causing their reluctance."

A cheeky smile appeared on Y/N's face. "I couldn't have said that better myself." The ladies giggled, continuing down the walkway towards a small pond. Y/N glanced upwards, noting the eligible men coming their way. Grabbing Amelia's arm, she yanked her behind a tree close by, pressing her back tightly against the oak.

Amelia furrowed her brow, "What ails you?"

Y/N hushed her, looking over Amelia’s shoulder. "I don't wish to speak to anyone else presently. Particularly suitors."

"So you think hiding behind a tree is wise?" She blinked.

Y/N wanted to glare, but held back. "Guess I'm not as witty as you thought."

Amelia peaked behind the tree, their maids coming closer to them. She gestured for them to stop, not wanting the men Y/N was so flustered by to notice. The maids turned towards each other, giving a knowing look, and faced the pond instead.

"Did they leave yet?" Y/N whispered.

Amelia hummed. "No. They are still coming our way."

"Damn." She cursed, scrunching her face.

"Speak louder. I am sure your coarse tongue will make them leave hastily." She gaped.

Y/N held back more careless words, doing her best to remain calm. "I am certain that any gentleman has heard far worse words than a solitary curse from a lady's lips."

Amelia peaked again, her eyes widening. "Oh, you are correct about that. Did you see who was coming?"

"No. I just knew it was three gentlemen." Y/N dissented.

"It's Mr. Beaumont... with Lord Golbach and Lord Brock." Amelia choked out.

"Ah, even worse than I imagined." Y/N gulped.

Lord Samuel Golbach and Lord Cole Brock were some of the most sought after men in all of the Ton. Eager mamas and anxious daughters alike pined to be seen affectionately by the two Lords. They were not only rich, but handsome - a deadly combination. And with years of friendship under their belt, they were basically family to one another. Everyone out in society knew - to get in good graces with one, you had to be liked by the other.

But even with everyone wanting their attention, they were seldom to give it out. The rakish behavior displayed by the two was known throughout, which confused Y/N deeply. Why play cat and mouse if one knows it's not trying to be caught? Why pretend to be an eligible bachelor if there were no plans to seek a wife at all?

Y/N knew to stay away. She had no interest in them, moreover.

"Mr. Beaumont, I do believe you are one of the funniest men in all of London." Cole chuckled, clasping the man on the shoulder.

Edward bowed, "Such high praise coming from you, Lord Brock. You two are going to tonight's ball, yes?"

"Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world." Samuel grinned, glancing at Cole knowingly.

"I must ask, are there any ladies that have caught your eye this season?" Edward continued.

Samuel shook his head, "Unsurprisingly, no. Cole and I have very high standards. So high, in fact, it has been impossible to find anyone worthy of matching with." 

"How incredibly rude." Amelia murmured.

"I am confident there are several ladies in the Ton that would be worthy of becoming your wives. What about Miss Mullens?" Edward mentioned.

"Terrible dancer." Cole quipped.

He questioned, "How about Miss Walford?" 

Samuel frowned. "Her character is sorely lacking." 

"Miss Ramsbury?" He puzzled.

"Beautiful indeed, most obnoxious laugh I've ever heard however." Cole jeered.

"Miss Y/L/N! What about her? She seems well." Edward exclaimed.

A silence filled the air, Y/N only hearing the sound of her pounding heart within her breast. While she may not have harbored interest in either Lord, the notion of their thoughts about her caused her skin to tingle thrillingly. She had never heard a man speak of her in any way, romantic or otherwise. She was eager to know.

Both men snickered, an almost childish laugh cutting through. Samuel cleared his throat, "You must be joking, Beaumont. That lady, would be the last on our list to ever be courted by us. Remember, we have high standards."

"Not even worthy of considering, if I'm honest." Cole sniveled.

“I suppose those are the lower ranking ladies of the Ton.” Mr. Beaumont chortled.

Amelia moved to jump out from behind the tree, ready to give all three gentlemen a piece of her mind. Y/N grabbed her arm, yanking her close. She motioned for her to remain silent, listening once more to the Lords and Mr. Beaumont.

"It is getting late, good sirs. I must be arriving back home soon for late afternoon tea with the missus. Good day, Lord Golbach. Lord Brock. Best of luck on your endeavors." He bowed, the Lords following suit.

Y/N finally turned to all three gentlemen, still covered by the oak tree. She watched as the Lords went off in the opposite direction as Mr. Beaumont. She waited until they were far enough away, taking her first breath in for what felt like years.

"I cannot believe those men!" Amelia screeched lowly.

Y/N slid down the tree, resting her head back, exhausted. "It's incredible, really. Dare I say... humbling?"

"Calling them rakes is the nicest thing I can think of. They are-" She started.

Cutting her off, Y/N placed a hand up. "Save your words, Amelia. Heaven knows I'm thinking far worse than you."

She stared at the ground for a moment, replaying their words over and over in her head. It hurt to hear how cold they were towards her, someone they had never even had a single conversation with.

"Lord Golbach and Lord Brock don't know you, Y/N. And by the way they speak of strangers, they don't deserve to know you either. No wonder no one has won their affections. They have far too much for themselves." Amelia retorted. She fanned herself, feeling her skin growing hot with anger.

Y/N mumbled. "High standards, remember?"

"I have heard of the numerous rejections they’ve given to the ladies of the Ton. It's astonishing how sought after they remain." Amelia declared, utterly appalled.

Rejected. The word echoed in Y/N's head. No one knew that feeling quite like her, especially not the Lords. Who could ever reject them...

Abruptly, Y/N jumped to her feet with an incredulous smirk; an idea rushing to the forefront of her mind.

"Pray tell, what is that look for?" Amelia queried.

"I believe the Lords just need a dose of their own medicine." She sang snidely. 

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"What lady in all of the Ton has ever rejected them? Every girl and mama swoons at their feet; that's why they feel they can judge and dismiss anyone they want, regardless of how perfect a match the lady might be," Y/N stated. "So... what if that is turned on them?"

"How?" Amelia leaned back against the tree, studying her friend.

"Tonight's ball. It is a masquerade. Those two have never spoken to me, not once in all of the two years I've been out. Yet somehow, they've already declared I'm not worthy to be their wife just from mere appearances alone. Well, what if they aren't worthy enough to be my husband?" Y/N's eyes were wild, a mischievous glint sparkling within.

She gasped, "You're going to reject them?"

"I shall make them plead for my hand in marriage, only to desert them after all." She boasted.

"Do you think you can do that?" Amelia cocked her head to the side.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "I plan to beat them at their own game. I am sure they won’t know what to do with themselves when a woman is actually disinterested in them. Plus, anything else my charm and wit can make up for… hopefully."

"Are you sure your skills are up to the challenge? This could possibly ruin you if done incorrectly. A man won't take his pride being scorned." Amelia worried, holding Y/N's hand briefly. 

She gave Amelia's hand a gentle squeeze, "I have been watching for two seasons what works and what doesn't. I've always been too frightened to be myself, to be vulnerable. But I have nothing to lose tonight. I am not interested in them, and they do not even see me as a potential match. I have to do this, for my pride alone." 

Y/N strutted away, nodding to her maid to follow her. She stopped for a moment, turning back to Amelia. "After tonight, no more Miss Wallflower." 

~~~~

Luckily for Y/N, being friendly with the modiste had its perks. For one, she was able to have some alterations done to her gown long before the ball. She was used to wearing more muted colors; colors that faded her into the background of any dance. But now, staring in the looking glass at herself, her rose colored gown almost sparkled in the candlelight.

She knew this would be one of the more flashier gowns, even for a masquerade. Lady Gillingham's balls were always known as being a bit uptight; the masquerade was the only one where going against her rules was allowed. But most in the Ton dared to not break them even so.

Y/N felt a rush of nerves hit her. Would this be enough to cause the Lords to notice her? She hoped. If not, her whole plan would be foiled.

The carriage ride to the Gillingham estate felt like an eternity. Y/N fanned herself repeatedly; the cool night air doing nothing for her warm skin.

Amelia and Y/N wrote to one another to meet at the Gillingham lineage painting that adorned the entrance. Both ladies concurred that the face of Viscount Gillingham in the painting always looked like he was cocked eyed; something they both had jested about their first time out in society. They knew that was their spot to meet if they needed to step away from it all. But tonight, because of their masks, they wanted to be able to find a familiar face in the crowd if anything was to go awry.

Y/N pulled her cloak tightly to her bodice, making sure her dress was covered. She gazed around the foyer of the estate, the grand ceilings always making her feel so small. She could hear the ball had commenced, a fanciful melody being played by the orchestra echoed down the halls. She waited under the painting, glancing at all of the attendees coming through the doors. Which one would be Amelia and her Viscount?

Rounding the stairs, a golden dress shone in the corner of Y/N's vision. She turned, making note of the matching locks of hair.

Along with their meeting spot, Y/N and Amelia devised a query only they knew. Y/N studied the woman, finally speaking. "Excuse me, have you ever read Emma? It is one of my favorite novels."

"There is nothing like staying home, for real comfort." Amelia quoted, relief hitting her at the sound of her friend's voice.

Y/N sighed, "Oh thank Heavens it's you Amelia. I thought you might already be in the ballroom."

Amelia shook her head, "I informed you I would wait until your arrival to enter the ball."

Y/N gazed over Amelia's shoulder, looking for someone. "Where is your Viscount?"

She smiled, "He had affairs to tend to, and said he wouldn't be able to make it tonight. So I'm all yours."

"You don't have to stay with me all night. Just until my plan works on the Lords." The girls locked their arms with one another, slowly walking towards the ballroom.

"They've already arrived. I saw them come in moments before you." Amelia whispered low.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Well, let's make our grand entrance then."

As the ladies walked into the ballroom, Y/N noted that they were the last two to enter. She held her breath, staring over the railing of the beautiful marble stairs. She could feel all eyes turn to her and Amelia. Amelia trotted down the stairs, her gloved fingers holding the banister gently. Y/N waited until she was at the bottom, and began her descent. 

Now was the time to woo over the men of the Ton, she thought. She untied her cloak, letting it fall off her shoulders; leaving it on the stairs. Light gasps fell from around the room. She knew her alterations would cause a stir, but gasps? She was taken aback by such sounds.

Not only did she go gloveless to this event, but her slightly lowered neckline showed off her most precious of jewels in more ways than one. The modiste spoke of how most of the Ton was not breaking Gillingham's rules, disregarding the whole point of a masquerade. Y/N knew this was her time to shine. To become a rule breaker.

Lord Golbach and Lord Brock were rule breakers themselves. And even more so, heartbreakers. They were aware of this too. Samuel and Cole gave each other a quick glance, noting the breathtaking beauty dressed in rose coming down the stairs.

Eligible gentlemen from around the room scurried over to Amelia and Y/N, doing their best to introduce themselves quickly. Cole smoothed out his suit jacket, parted his way through the crowd and reached Y/N in no time.

Y/N was taken aback by all the men surrounding her, never having this much attention before. As she glanced up, her eyes immediately made contact with a pair of striking blue ones. The pleasing smile, the chestnut hair, the almost devilish gaze.... she knew it could only be one man.

"Miss Rose, lovely to make your acquaintance." Cole bowed, speaking over all of the men pining for her.

She scrunched her face, confused. "Do you believe that to be my name?"

He blinked, "No. I'm simply calling you that because of your gown."

"Oh..." Y/N cleared her throat awkwardly, returning to a more disinterested persona. "How clever."

"May I accompany you to the floor?" He asked, his voice as smooth as silk.

A man in the small crowd let out a scoff, "Good sir, I do believe I was-"

"I think I can speak for myself, your grace." She turned back to Cole, a playful smile on her lips, "I'm afraid you aren't the first to ask. But if you care to wait, I'll gladly dance with you second."

Lord Brock was surprised, but he chalked up this misunderstanding to her not knowing who he was. No one ever denied Cole a dance. Even those with cards completely filled out. He bowed graciously, moving out of the way so she could be guided onto the dancefloor by the other gentleman.

By his short stature, Cole could tell it was Viscount Davis. While he did have a lot of money, he was a tiresome presence to be around. And surely, Miss Rose would soon find that out herself.

And Y/N did, in record time. Being eye-level with a gentleman was not exactly something she was used to, but all it did was make her very aware of his eyes stealing glances at her bosom. The song ended rather quickly, the Heavens listening to her pleas. Before she could even curtsy at the gentleman, Cole was already next to her, waiting to join her in the next dance. She almost laughed at how eager he was; how easily her plan was playing out. They bowed to one another, and the music slowly began. His expert hands slid into hers, warm and welcoming. His close proximity made her aware suddenly just how handsome he really was. She could understand, for a moment, why so many ladies fawned over him. And her heart skipped a beat.

"Would you be alright with me breaking the rules this evening?" Cole chimed in suddenly.

Y/N cocked her head, "That depends on what you intend to break."

"I would like to tell you my name, and perhaps you will tell me yours?" He wagered. 

"Perhaps..." She trailed off, detached.

"I'm Lord Brock. And if you glance over your shoulder now, the man by the refreshments table is Lord Samuel Golbach." He motioned with his head behind her.

Y/N did peak, noting the eyes of Samuel following her and Cole around the room. "Hmm. Interesting."

"May you wish to tell me yours now?" Cole smiled.

"No, I do not." Y/N shook her head plainly.

"I am surprised. But maybe I shouldn't be," Cole spun her, pulling her back into him. "It appears that you resemble me in many respects."

"And what respects are those?" She questioned.

"If I may presume, you seem inclined to forge your own path. You do not heed merely because it was asked of you." He remarked honestly.

Y/N felt her heart skip again, damning her feelings internally as she kept up her charade. "And you have been able to deduce all of this from the mere twenty minutes I've been in this ballroom?"

Cole smirked confidently, "What can I say? I possess the ability to read others well, particularly charming young ladies."

She held back the urge to roll her eyes at his response. While she wanted to beat him at his own game, she didn't want to be rude. "And how well has that worked out for you, my Lord? Since apparently you and Samuel can't seem to find a match."

Hearing Sam's name fall from her lips was shocking, but that alone made him like her more. She was feisty, and he enjoyed that quality in a woman. "Having standards set high has caused some issues, yes. But maybe I will find the one tonight."

"Have you already encountered someone that has peaked your interest?" She inquired. 

"I would say so. It shouldn't come as a shock since you're the only one I've danced with tonight. And the only one I plan to." He brought his face closer to hers, flashing a charming smile.

"How delightful," Y/N mimicked his look. "I cannot say I feel the same, unfortunately."

His face dropped instantly, "I beg your pardon?"

Y/N wanted to relish in this moment for forever, but the music was slowly coming to an end. "Oh, my apologies, my Lord. I thought we were speaking candidly." 

"You... you don't enjoy my company?" Cole stammered. Stammered.

"Well, you are an accomplished dancer and pleasing to the eye and yet... I am unable to see you worthy as a potential suitor." She curtsied dramatically as their dance finished, her mischievous eyes sparkling from the flames of the candles. "My deepest gratitude, my Lord, for being my second dance. If you'll excuse me, I must go see my other suitors, however."

Y/N turned away, swaying her hips sensually as she walked over to Amelia. Her skin felt like it was on fire from where Cole had been touching her. Even though she hated admitting it, something about Cole was mesmerizing. Intoxicating, even. If she hadn't heard what he said this afternoon, she could see a world in which she would fall for him.

But she couldn't focus on that now. She couldn't believe she had actually done it. She successfully rejected one of the Lords.

Amelia gaped, staring at Y/N. "I'm in awe of you, truly. You are a goddess amongst men."

"I feel like I'm going to faint." Y/N grabbed Amelia's arm, keeping her back turned towards the dancefloor. 

"Really?" Amelia pushed her glass to Y/N, who nodded a 'thank you'.

"Sort of." Y/N downed her lemonade, the refreshing citrus drink calming her nerves only slightly. "Is he still looking over here?"

"If by 'looking' you mean casting daggers, then indeed, that is the case. And," she giggled nervously, "try not to faint when I tell you this, but Lord Golbach is making his approach."

Y/N swallowed hard. "You jest."

Amelia gave a weary smile, "No, but I must make my getaway."

She backed away quickly from Y/N, who called out, "Wait, Ame-!"

"Miss Rose, how wonderful to finally meet." Samuel interjected suddenly.

Y/N took a deep breath, spinning on her heel to face him. "Lord Golbach."

He raised a brow at her, "You know who I am."

"How could I mistake a face like yours for any other?" She replied with a sneer tone.

Sam sucked his teeth, her biting tongue captivating him immensely. Ladies hardly ever truly said how they were feeling around him, and it was refreshing to hear such honesty. "I would entertain that notion if Cole had not informed me of disclosing my identity to you."

Her smile dropped, "I would still be able to pick you out in any crowd, my Lord. I would just have to look for the trail of broken hearts and I would instantly find the two of you."

"My reputation makes me sound harsh." He deadpanned.

She held back the urge to roll her eyes, "I think you and Cole are, in fact, harsh. Reputation or not."

A playful grin rose on Sam's face as he reached out his hand towards Y/N. "Dance with me, Miss Rose."

"And if I say no?" She responded defiantly. 

"I will leave you be," he answered. "But what fun you will miss, declining a dance from a gentleman whom you have already passed judgment upon."

She was surprised by Sam's charisma, his almost flirty nature. She politely took his hand, allowing him to guide her onto the dancefloor. Bowing, she steadied herself.. She was not used to this attention, especially from such desirable gentlemen. She knew deep down she shouldn't like teasing the Lords, but part of her enjoyed knowing they found her coveted.

He gazed down at her, inspecting her. "Your gown is quite suitable. You must come from a high ranking family."

"Thank you," she replied plainly. "And yes, some would say that. It helps that I am acquainted with the modiste in town, as well."

"Really? Not many are like you in that way. I've always found it odd how the higher ranking families in the Ton look down upon the working class." Sam admitted.

Y/N nodded, "Truly. It is such a pity. They are no different than us, the only major thing is that we were born into wealth."

"We are all human, after all." He concurred.

"Respecting our fellow man and cherishing the relationships we have and can make should be number one priority. It's a shame how many in the Ton don't see that." She remarked.

Samuel raised his eyebrows, spinning the young lady in time with the music. "You are one of the only women to think so. Many I have courted never spoke of such qualities."

She could feel her skin grow warmer with annoyance, "Interestingly, my beliefs stem from other women I've had the pleasure of knowing. How often do you ask any? Or do you merely go off of appearances and assumptions alone?"

His face dropped, a bitter smile resting on his mouth. "You and I must be similar in that regard."

"Possibly, yes. However, you are the one with a reputation of casting aside women you don't deem fit enough to be courted." Y/N argued, glaring.

He scoffed, "My apologies for having-"

She interjected, "High standards. Yes, I know."

The dance slowly began to end, her grip falling limp in Sam's hold. An anger unlike Y/N had ever felt was bubbling inside of her. Her grace and dignity almost flying out the window when she looked up at Sam, who seemed perplexed by her words. "I thank you for proving my assertions correct."

"And what exactly where they?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Your character is sorely lacking, and I will never want to court or be married to a man like that." Y/N spun on her heel, pure fire filling her veins. She ought to not have become so agitated, but she was unable to restrain herself. While both men played innocent and kind to her face, she knew of how mean they spoke of her mere hours ago. The sole reason they were like this was because of their ignorance of her identity. She had been taught her whole life to be respectful, to both men and women, no matter what ranking they were. And to see such blatant disrespect come from such a high caliber of men in the Ton infuriated her to no end.

This is who was supposed to be the aspiring husbands in the marriage mart? Being a spinster did not sound too bad after all.

Y/N wanted to find Amelia, but decided against staying in the ballroom. She ventured off to the entrance, standing at the portrait. She paced for a moment, trying to calm her nerves. She heard footsteps coming from the ballroom, expecting Amelia to be following her. But two men walked through, Samuel and Cole.

Her eyes widened as she watched them search for her. She rushed up the stairs, finding the closest room and hiding inside of it. It was a study, most likely Viscount Gillingham's. She closed the door swiftly, praying they hadn't seen her do so. She scanned the room, her eyes landing on the window. Fresh air sounded absolutely wonderful to her. She walked over to the window, attempting to open it.

The door swung open, Sam and Cole staring at her quizzically. "What do you plan to do? Shimmy down the garden wall?"

She huffed, turning to the gentlemen. "Do you take pride in stalking ladies or is that just an extracurricular for you both?"

"You have a surprisingly mean spirit for a lady. You must have suitors lining the street waiting for your hand." Cole sassed, stepping into the room.

"Well, as long as you both aren't in line, I shall have decent prospects." Y/N sniveled.

Samuel ranted, "Pray, what precisely is your objection to us? You do not resemble any woman we've previously courted. Why do you harbor resentment?"

"I do not have to have been courted by you to dislike you, Lord Golbach. Perhaps I find your inability to care for a woman's heart atrocious and that alone sparked my malicious feelings." She rebutted, her hands firmly on her hips.

"Did we hurt a sister of yours? Perhaps a friend." Cole responded, almost in jest.

She shook her head heatedly. "No. No. As humorously as that would be, you hurt mine without ever courting me. So congratulations are in order for that feat."

Both of the gentlemen's faces dropped, annoyed. "How?"

"I overheard you, today, at the park. Along with your friend Beaumont. You all had such a delightful time picking apart different women, none of which measured up to your standards for one reason or another." She spat.

Cole shook his head, almost trying to reset his vision. "A-And what is wrong with having standards?"

"There is nothing wrong with that," Y/N grunted. "The problem lies in how you go about finding those standards. Let's not play foolish here: you both know how sought after you are. And you also know that you most likely won't be finding a match anytime soon. So why be out in society?"

Sam’s eyes rolled for a moment. "Are we not permitted to partake in revelry?"

"You can, but not at the expense of women's hearts or reputations!" Her voice boomed off the walls of the study. The room fell silent, the men watching her with wide eyes. 

She continued passionately. "Do you know how completely ignorant it is to badmouth a woman to one of your fellow gentlemen? It is already hard enough as a lady to find a suitable husband when you have every other lady fighting for said affections. But to have fellow men berate and downgrade you as if you are a second-prized poodle is humiliating. Because if you two think that way about me, how else do the other men of the Ton feel? How am I supposed to navigate a labyrinth I had no realization I was in?"

Both men were stunned into silence, but finally Cole spoke. "We should be wiser with our words, yes. But it's not exactly easy for us, either."

"Oh please." She murmured, exhausted.

He moved towards her, shaking his head. "We are told to act a certain way, to be men. The rakish behavior we have to put on is all but a front. At least for him and I. It is exhausting wanting to be open and vulnerable and honest when no one reciprocates those feelings back. So it's easier to put up walls and guard yourself and pretend to be something you're not. But in the end it all hurts the same."

"But you're a man. And not just any one, a prominent one. You could..." Y/N exhaled. "Change what is expected."

"It is not that simple. And it's already a lonely road for those that do not follow what is to be asked of you." Cole paused, swallowing. "I often wonder if a love match is something I will ever find, or if I'm doomed to face a marriage with a woman that is a complete stranger to me for the rest of my days."

She frowned, "Find someone to love, then."

Cole bit his lip harshly, holding back his hurt, "I wish I could. I wish my family would allow that. There are certain expectations I've been destined to meet since birth that I wish I could shake. But it's not as simple as it sounds."

Y/N looked towards Sam, "And what about you?"

"I... I don't know how to express myself. At all," he muttered, stoic and awkward. "This life of mine is not even remotely fulfilling. And I am afraid I am wasting it being someone I never wished to be."

For a moment, Y/N's heart ached for both gentlemen. She stared at them, and they were no longer men, but boys. And for the first time in years, when she expressed exactly how she felt without fear of rejection, she felt like a girl again. The brutal honesty of being a child with no expectations placed.

"I apologize for being so… careless." Her demeanor softened,  "Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed so harshly.." 

"No. Your honesty is refreshing. I don't think anyone has called us out in years." Samuel commented.

Cole smirked, "Or ever, really."

She giggled, and genuinely smiled, for the first time all night. They smiled back, their grins earnest. 

"You have the sweetest of laughs. Almost like honey." Samuel complimented.

She bowed her head, doing her best to hide her blush. "T-That is very kind of you to say, my Lord."

Cole chimed in, the men sharing a look. "May I ask you a question, Miss Rose?"

Y/N nodded, watching them as they drew closer to her.

"Would it be alright if I call upon you tomorrow?" He asked.

Samuel added, "I too, would wish to do that, as well."

Her eyes widened, "I beg your pardon?"

"You are merely unlike any lady I have ever encountered. Unlike any we have met before. And I am certain that both of us would cherish the opportunity to become better acquainted with you." Cole explained genuinely.

"Even after I've insulted you to your face?" She sassed.

"Even more so, yes." Samuel's eyes glimmered mischievously.

Y/N questioned, "Are you sure that would be wise?"

"I would say it's about as wise as you being in a room, alone, with the two of us. Unchaperoned." Cole's voice deepened, causing Y/N's eyes to flutter.

Y/N suddenly became very aware of how close the Lords were to her. Her lips parted, wanting to gasp, but she was rendered speechless. She glanced between the two of them, watching as the space between them and her came to an almost close. Her back was up against the window sill, and she could feel the heat of Sam and Cole's bodies rolling off onto hers.

She closed her eyes tightly, savoring the moment. This was her first time truly feeling stirred by the presence of a man. Multiple men.

"But you are gentlemen." She choked out.

His eyes darkened. "Of course. We would never do anything untoward an honorable young lady, like yourself."

"All you have to do is say so, and we'll stop." Sam uttered huskily. 

Cole spun Y/N to face him, her mouth falling open in surprise. He stared at her devilishly, his eyes taking in every part of her slowly. A breath blew across the back of Y/N's neck, startling her. She glanced over her shoulder through hooded eyes to see Sam, closing the space between her and him. His mouth danced up her neck, stopping right under her ear.

"Do you want us to stop?" Cole whispered softly.

Y/N shuddered a breath, his hands cupping her waist as he stepped closer to her. His mouth was on the other side of her neck, peppering light kisses up and down her throat. Y/N closed her eyes, her chest heaving as her breath fought to catch up. Y/N had had one kiss before in her entire life, right before coming out into society. And she had heard whispers of what... intimacy, between a man and woman was like.

But this was a whole new world for her.

Heat pooled low in her stomach as the men traced their lips over her skin, breathing her in. Sam's hands rested lightly on her lower back, tracing up and down her corset lining. Cole's hands rubbed up and down her bare arms, goosebumps rising in their wake.

Their bodies were firm up against hers. It was almost like a waltz the way the Lords' movements guided her. She was entranced by it all, following their every direction. Then, suddenly it hit her.

She won. And not only did she win, but the clock was very close to midnight. And it was time to leave.

Y/N took a deep breath, something she felt she hadn't done in ages, and slithered her way out from between each man.

"Well, gentlemen, this has been a lovely evening. But I must be getting home." Y/N stated calmly.

Both men were stunned into silence, again, by her. "Wh... What?"

"Did I say something surprising?" She gazed innocently at them, then headed towards the door.

Samuel and Cole stared at her in awe, an almost amused smile resting on their lips. She truly was incomparable.

As she opened the door to the study, Samuel called out, "You must tell us who you are, at the very least."

She paused, her hand resting on the handle. She had considered making her getaway, not letting them know who she was. But part of her wondered what their faces would look like once they knew it was her, Y/N, that left them this way. Hot and bothered.

She untied her mask slowly, holding it delicately in her hands. She turned back to the Lords, gazing at them both.

"Goodnight, Lord Golbach and Lord Brock. I hope you have a splendid evening." She bowed, and rushed out, taking the stairs quickly.

Sam and Cole stood in silence for a while, reliving the moments they had just shared with Y/N. Neither one could wrap their minds about what took place, or that it was Y/N - of all people - that had caused these feelings to occur. Feelings that both men had not experienced in a very long time, if ever.

Sam stuck his hand out to Cole, raising an eyebrow at him. "May the best man win."

Cole smirked, grasping his friend's hand tightly. "Indeed."

The gentlemen knew only one of them would win Y/N's heart. And now it was time to see who could ever conquer such a feat.

[shadow4-1]

Your hubby let u sleep with his friends ??? okkk girll i see you living the life we all want too (share ur secrets😣)

Oops I forgot I said that. Well...yes it's true. I've slept with a handful of my husband's friends (all of it was talked about beforehand, planned out, etc.)

Both my husband and I are bisexual. All of his friends he's had for years - since they were babies pretty much. They're all exceptionally close and they've experimented a lot together before I ever even came into the picture.

Besides my husband, none of them have girlfriends or wives (they're all in their late 20s now). I used to think it was a red flag but now I just realize they're all just tied to each other and fulfil their emotional needs that way. In fact, two of them are identical twins. They were suspicious when they met me at first (but after I witnessed a couple of them kissing my husband, let's just say they quickly came to realize I was definitely the girl for him).

(This picture is almost 10 years old. That's my husband in the blue jacket with half his friend group. We went out to a club, so all of us were piss drunk in the back of that taxi.)

Now, I'm not going to generalize Scottish men/people. I'm just going to give ya'll a rundown on what I've learned/observed over my multiple trips to Scotland. I've noticed that they tend to -

- Be chivalrous. Not a single guy I met (husband or otherwise) was rude or didn't use his manners the whole time I was there. And if they were amongst friends they had no issue with calling each other out for their bad behavior. Now that, that was nice to see. (So, yes, Soap's definitely has his manners and knows how to follow decorum well.)

- Be loud. Almost every man I met was boisterous and bright. Even the quiet ones (once I got them to talk) were animated. The culture over there is different than America (where I'm from), everyone seems to know everyone. So no one is seemingly scared of "strangers", they're usually pretty curious. (So, yes, Soap's talkative and interesting personality checks out.)

- Fight. Now, this one is because I spent a lot of time in bars. Again, unlike America, it's different. They don't carry guns (maybe a knife but even that's not the norm). Usually it's just a lot of posturing, yelling, and intimidation. But, if they actually decide to swing, usually the crowd will break it up and/or throw them outside. Fighting over there is kind of seen as a necessary evil. (So, yes, when they say Soap is a bit of a hot head and hops into fights I can definitely confirm it.)

- Welcome with open arms. I'm a plus size POC and most of the people you'll find in Scotland are Caucasian. You'd think there'd be some friction between me and the locals, but no. Not once was I ever treated unfairly by anyone. In fact, people loved to chat with me. I spent a lot of my time talking with strangers. (So, yes, Soap not batting an eye at Ghost and his ridiculous get up is on brand. He cares much more about getting to know the person underneath.)

I could go on. Maybe one day I'll be able to live my retirement years in Scotland. It's beautiful and green and walkable. Also they have Irn Bru, Jammie Dodgers, and my absolute favorite - Bairns Sausage Rolls. I'd immigrate just for those haha!

So yeah, I know a think or two, and Soap is a pretty great Scottish representation in my opinion. My husband is indifferent to him but maybe it's because he seems the similarities haha. If you want to hear more about my trysts I have no problem sharing! I've seen a lot and done alot in my short time here on Earth and trust me when I say I'm not stopping anytime soon! 😂

[ninjatrashpanda]

The Other Shoe (Waiting for it to drop)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round 2! Today's prompt is "Coming Out Scenes!"

Read it on AO3 here.

“I, uh, I think it’s time to face the music,” Buck whispered, tugging on Tommy’s sleeve. His eyes wandered over to his parents, who had watched him and Tommy like hawks throughout the entire reception, though Buck had a hard time predicting what they were thinking. On one hand, therapy had been going well, and while The Buckleys would probably never be the big happy family Buck had wished for as a kid, Mom and Dad were trying. They had been nothing but supportive about him being Connor and Kameron’s sperm donor last year, and Buck would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a pang of appreciation when they had stood up for him against Chimney’s father and stepmother.

On the other hand, well, these were his parents, and old fears die hard. While they had apologized for how they had treated him and Maddie and become better, there was a little voice at the back of his head that told him they’d just be disappointed again. The fact that his mother hadn’t managed to get rid of the bewildered look on her face since he had dragged Tommy into Chimney’s hospital room didn’t help.

“Should I be scared?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Buck chuckled, though it sounded more like a nervous exhale. He stole another glance at his parents, then shifted his gaze to the floor, kicking at an imaginary speck of dust. “Nah,” he said, though he admittedly wasn’t even able to convince himself of that. “Not scared. Just... prepared.”

Tommy followed Buck’s gaze across the room, where Buck’s parents stood stiffly by a wall, half-empty champagne flutes clutched tightly in their hands. Buck knew they had been mingling just a few minutes ago, but he still couldn’t help but feel that they looked, well, out of place. While they were nothing but polite, they didn’t really mesh with anyone else, and always seemed a little awkward.

“They don’t seem like they bite,” Tommy observed, in that casual, dry tone Buck had grown to appreciate over the past few weeks. In an instant, a part of his anxiety evaporated and bubbled to the surface in a barely held back snort.

“Not literally, no.” Buck ran a hand through his hair with a shake of his head, the slight smile Tommy had brought to his face staying on his face. “It’s just... history, you know? They’re trying, and I get that, I do. But sometimes it’s like...” He trailed off with a shrug, struggling to find the right words. “It’s like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tommy nodded, his hand reaching out to squeeze Buck’s. Buck had told him the basics, how Maddie had practically raised him, how their parents had been neglectful and controlling. He vaguely knew about Daniel, too, though Buck hadn’t delved into the whole Savior Baby thing yet. The subject was…touchy, to say the least, and while he knew he had to breach it at some point, he wanted Tommy to have as neutral an opinion on his parents as possible. They were putting in the effort, so Buck figured they deserved that much.

“Well,” Tommy said, squeezing Buck’s hand again, a bit firmer this time, “if things get weird, you’ve got me for backup. Just say the word, and I’ll distract them with my fake mouth static.”

Buck couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, which surprised even himself. Tommy had a knack for diffusing tension, and Buck was grateful for it. It was one of the reasons he had gravitated toward him in the first place. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand, drawing strength from the contact, before letting go and straightening up.

“Good idea. You’re renowned for your fake mouth static after all.”

“Damn right I am.”

They stood there for a moment, neither quite willing to take the first step towards the inevitable conversation. The reception was starting to wind down, (because the nurses were kicking people out now) so at least if this developed into a scene, not too many people would end up seeing. Chimney, now recovering well after the whole viral encephalitis debacle, was in high spirits, chatting animatedly with Hen and Karen. Maddie was close by his side, smiling brighter than he had ever seen, seemingly refusing to let go of her new husband’s arm.

The love between them gave Buck a tiny surge of courage. If Maddie and Chimney could find happiness after everything they had been through, then maybe things could work out with his and Maddie’s parents too.

“Alright,” Buck said, straightening his posture, bracing himself for impact. “Let’s do this.”

They crossed the room together, Tommy a step behind Buck, offering silent support. Buck’s parents straightened as he approached, their faces neutral masks. They clearly didn’t know how to react, and Buck could hardly blame them for that.

“Hi,” Buck said, forcing a smile. “You probably have a few questions.”

His mother’s eyes softened, but there was still a glimmer of uncertainty in them. His father cleared his throat, his grip on the champagne flute tightening just slightly. The atmosphere was stiff, and the air felt thick enough to cut it with a knife.

“Hi, Buck,” his mother replied, her voice wavering just a bit. Buck was actually (positively) surprised that she used his nickname, though he had to admit it sounded almost foreign in her voice. “Yes, we, uh…” She glanced at his father, who nodded, urging her to continue. “We do have some questions, but—”

“We don’t want to push,” his father interjected, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re just… trying to understand.”

Buck nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. They weren’t throwing accusations and bad faith arguments around, so that was a good start. Still, Buck knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet. He hadn’t spoken about the big B yet, after all.

“Yeah,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he hadn’t quite outgrown. “I figured. And, uh, it’s okay to ask. I know this is… a lot.”

He could see the moment his mother tried to put on a brave face, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We were surprised, that’s all,” she said. “When you came into the room with…”

She trailed off, her eyes moving over Buck’s shoulder to where he knew Tommy stood just a foot or two behind him. He took a deep breath. This was it. No going back. He had thought about it for weeks at this point, had said it out loud to himself in the mirror, but not to anybody else, not even Maddie or Tommy.

“Tommy.” He turned slightly, reaching out his hand out to Tommy, who took it into his own with a smile as he stepped up. “Mom, Dad, this is Tommy Kinard. He’s my date. He, uh… he’s the reason I figured out that I’m bisexual.”

The words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Buck could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the sound of his blood rushing through his ears almost deafening. He knew this moment was pivotal (one of the most important in his life, probably) and the weight of it pressed down on him like the world on Atlas’ shoulders.

His parents exchanged glances, and Buck could see an onslaught of emotions flitting across their faces: surprise, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of something that could be hope. His mother’s fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne flute, and his father took a small step closer to her.

Tommy, for his part, stayed by Buck’s side, his presence a quiet but powerful anchor. He gave Buck’s hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent promise that he was here, and that he wouldn’t leave. Buck was grateful for that; it reminded him that no matter what was going to happen, he wasn’t alone.

His mother was the first to speak. “Bisexual,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. Her brow furrowed slightly, but there was no trace of anger or disappointment in her tone. Instead, she seemed...curious. “I…well, I didn’t expect that.”

Buck could see his father’s jaw tighten momentarily before he let out a slow breath. “Buck,” he began, his voice careful, deliberate. “This is…this is a lot to take in. But I want you to know that we’re listening. We’re trying to understand.”

Buck nodded. This wasn’t a rejection, not outright. But it wasn’t exactly acceptance either, not yet, at least. Still, it was something, and in this moment, something was better than nothing.

“I know it’s a lot,” Buck said, his voice quieter now. “And I don’t expect you to get it all at once. I only figured it out a few weeks ago, too. I just wanted you to know, because…because it’s who I am. And Tommy… he’s important to me.”

His mother’s eyes softened at that, and Buck could see her shifting, recalibrating her thoughts, trying to process this new piece of information about her son. “Tommy,” she said, as if tasting the name for the first time. She looked at him then, really looked at him, and there was something in her gaze that was almost…gentle. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, his usual confidence replaced by an almost shy nervousness. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Buckley. And Mr. Buckley,” he added, nodding respectfully toward Buck’s father.

Buck’s father gave a small nod in return, though his expression remained unreadable. “Tommy,” he repeated, his voice a bit more measured. “You’re… Buck’s boyfriend?”

Buck sucked in a sharp breath. Obviously that question would come up. He should’ve been prepared for it, but he wasn’t. He and Tommy hadn’t even really had that conversation. He’d certainly like for Tommy to be his boyfriend, he just wasn’t sure if Tommy was at that point yet. It had only been a few weeks after all. They had been on four dates, one of which was a complete disaster, and another that hadn’t even been a date at first, but an apology for the date that had been a complete disaster.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, his tone steady. “I’m his boyfriend. And I know this might be surprising, but Evan…he means a lot to me. I care about him.”

Buck’s breath hitched in his throat. He hadn’t expected Tommy to say it outright. He had expected a lighthearted “Not yet” or “We’re seeing each other.” That he’d gone right ahead… Buck’s heart swelled just a little bit. He squeezed Tommy’s hand a little tighter, grateful beyond words. Tommy’s answer made Buck just a little braver.

Finally, his mother spoke again. “I…I see,” she said, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. She looked at Buck, her eyes searching his, as if trying to reconcile the son she knew with these new things she was learning about him. “And you… you’re happy?”

Buck felt a lump rise in his throat. It was such a simple question, but it carried so much baggage. She wasn’t asking if he was happy with Tommy. She was asking if he was happy with himself, something that would’ve been absolutely unthinkable just three years ago.

“I am,” Buck replied, his voice growing more assured. “I’m happy, Mom. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

His mother’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she nodded slowly, as if coming to a decision within herself. She reached out then, tentatively, her hand hovering in the air for a moment before she placed it on Buck’s arm. “That’s all we want, Buck,” she whispered, her voice wavering a little. “We just want you to be happy.”

His father, who had been silent for most of the exchange, cleared his throat again. “It’s…a lot to adjust to,” he admitted, his voice gruff but not unkind. “But if this is who you are, and if this man makes you happy, then…well, we’ll do our best to understand.”

Buck felt a surge of relief wash over him, so powerful that it nearly knocked him off his feet. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was something. Something good. It was yet another step toward healing their relationship, and for that, he was grateful.

“Thank you,” Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for not, like, freaking out.”

His father gave a small nod, and his mother’s hand tightened on his arm, a silent reassurance that they were, in fact, trying. Tommy smiled and wrapped his arm around Buck’s shoulders, Buck leaning into his side almost automatically, enjoying the warmth of their connection.

His mother glanced over at Tommy, her expression softening further. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner before we fly back to Hershey, Tommy,” she said, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “We’d like to get to know you better.”

Tommy’s eyes widened at the invitation, and Buck didn’t blame him. It was already unusual that Tommy had met his parents this early, but getting invited to family dinner? That was big. “I’d love to, Mrs. Buckley. Thank you.”

Buck’s father gave a curt nod, not quite ready to add anything further, but his stance had relaxed just a little. There was still a long way to go, a lot of conversations to be had, but in that moment, Buck knew they were moving in the right direction.

As the reception continued to wind down, Buck stood there with Tommy by his side, his parents before him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a cautious sense of optimism. The journey ahead would be challenging, there was no doubt about that, but they were all still here, still trying, and that was more than Buck could have hoped for when he first approached them.

As they exchanged a few more words, lighter now, less fraught with tension, Buck realized that this was what he had been waiting for all along. Not just acceptance, but the willingness to grow, to move forward together. And maybe that was enough to help the wounds of the past heal.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! I have read through all of your harry metas and I love them!!! And it made me wonder whether you had any personal head-cannons regarding him? Like any unpopular ones that are not mentioned in the books or discussed by the fandom. I found only a precious few posts regarding this matter, so yeah I would like to know yours if u do have any.

Hi, thank you so much! 💕

Honestly, I'm pretty sure I just sprinkled Harry headcanons throughout my various posts but I'll try to comprise a list of some of my headcanons that popped into my head here. As such, these are all my random headcanons about Harry, some have more reasoning behind them than others. So, here are some of them in no particular order:

1. I think Harry is gay (could be demi but I don't think he's interested in women and he is interested in men. Personally, I headcanon him as gay).

I have a whole post about it here, but I don't know how common of an opinion it is since I see mostly bi Harry and not gay ones.

2. I see some fanon Harry's portrayed as very small, but I don't think he is. In my head, he's about 5'11 (by book 7) and in canon, he can lift Mundungus by the throat with one hand so... I think he's pretty fit actually. (Though he's very thin due to malnourishment). He's just always compared to Ron, who is like, ridiculously tall. I also think he was short for his age up until and including book 4. Between books 4 and 5 is when he had his first real growth spurt.

3. I think he was born Master of Death and that a lot of his miraculous survivals are because of that.

4. Harry has ADHD. It's my way to explain his tendency to be very observant of some things and not others, his crazy good selective memory, and his tendency to fail when he starts overthinking. Idk, I have ADHD and I'm getting these vibes from him (or projecting, who knows).

5. In my head, the epilogue isn't canon, so Harry breaks the curse on the DADA position, like, 5 years after the war, and starts teaching it. Until then, McGonagall just made sure to hire teachers only with one year contracts.

6. I headcanon the Potter family had more estate than just the cottage in Godric's Hollow and Harry finds out about them at some point after the war. I mean, they are reasonably rich, have a Wizengamot seat, and had more family members until very recently. They have to have more houses.

7. I think Harry and Kreature actually become friends after the books. I think they could've during the books too, Harry finds Kreature's sense of humor funny even as back as OotP:

“. . . Smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she’s no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my Mistress’s house, oh my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they’ve let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do. . . .” “Hello, Kreacher,” said Fred very loudly, closing the door with a snap. The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and then gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise. “Kreacher did not see Young Master,” he said, turning around and bowing to Fred. Still facing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, “Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is.” “Sorry?” said George. “Didn’t catch that last bit.” “Kreacher said nothing,” said the elf, with a second bow to George, adding in a clear undertone, “and there’s its twin, unnatural little beasts they are.” Harry didn’t know whether to laugh or not.

(OotP, 107-108)

I just see a lot of sassy potential in their dynamic.

8. Before he was hit with the killing curse, he and Lily had the same eye color, a deep, bright green. After Halloween 1981, Harry's eyes are always the shade of the killing curse, which is similar to before, just slightly lighter and brighter. It's barely noticeable unless in certain lighting, but Sirius was sure he was hallucinating from exhaustion on a few nights in Grimmauld Place where he looked at Harry, and his eyes shined just a little off, a little too brightly, the wrong color for just a moment.

9. He had at least 1 too sexy dream about Tom Riddle, and he never told and never will tell anyone if it's up to him. He tries to pretend it didn't happen tbh.

10. Same as number 9 about Sirius, honestly...

11. His animagus form would be a Raven. (Although I can see a few other forms as possible as well)

12. Sometimes, when I draw Harry, I add a little white streak of hair from his scar because I think it looks cool. Also, white hair and death connotation, so, yeah. I'd like to think that the white tuft became larger after he died and came back in the forest.

13. I usually imagine his scar going down through his eyebrow to around his right eye, basically I like it when Harry is very obviously and clearly marked by the killing curse. Unfortunately, canon contradicts this by him being able to cover the scar with his hair, and Snatchers in Deathly Hollows believed him to not be Harry Potter when he made shit up, so the scar probably isn't that noticeable. I'd like to think it is larger with very few lines going below his forehead, and just very very pale and almost invisible when Tom isn't angry over something.

14. He's short-sighted. Aka, his glasses are for looking at things far away, and if he wants to read, he can do so without the glasses, assuming he's holding the page close enough to his face. Actually, contrary to fanon opinion, I think Harry can see without his glasses, it's just really hazy, but if you stand close enough he would recognize you without his glasses. His sight isn't that bad.

15. I think throughout the series, his wardrobe slowly becomes more wizardy (and it could be really cool to implement something like that in the TV show). Basically, in year 1, he's always wearing his school robes over Dudley's muggle clothes, but through the years, he ends up buying random wizard clothing artifacts. So, in later years, he occasionally wore jeans under his robes, but sometimes he wore wizarding shirts. Sometimes, in books like 4 or 5, he could wear muggle sneakers with a casual wizarding robe on the weekend. Like, idk, I like the idea of this gradual change in his wardrobe and by book 7 when they are actively on the run from the ministry he's finally really looking the part of a wizard, but he isn't part of their society because of the war. Like, I just like this arc to his fashion that I made up in my head.

16. The one thing I might agree with the epilogue on in my headcanoned future, is that Harry declines going back for 8th year. Except in my head, he doesn't immediately go to Auror training, instead, he tries to take some time to figure his life out after everything, realizes he wants to go back to Hogwarts and that he doesn't know how to just sit down after 17 years of running on adrenalin and he ends up returning to the optional 8th year like 3 months late.

17. Harry's patronus is never going to change. He isn't going to allow that piece of his father to die, so I don't think it would change.

18. Like what I mentioned above about his eyes being just slightly off from Lily's eye color, I think his resemblance to James is like that too (and the books support me on this). In SWM Harry mentions how James has a longer nose than him and a different eye shape, and I think if you looked closely at James and Harry side by side, you'll see more and more of these differences. They look the same when you don't think about it, but once you look, they don't look like carbon copies of each other at all. I think Harry has James' eyebrows and jaw structure though.

19. For some reason, I headcanon Harry was born on the evening. Like, around 7 or 8. I really don't know why.

20. Harry doesn't know it, but he is attractive. I mean, I'm not sure I mentioned it, but girls in books 5 and 6 start looking at him, and sure, he is the Boy-Who-Lived, but if he wasn't attractive there wouldn't be that many attempts to dose him with love potion. Also, he is the son of James and Lily, so the potential there is high.

21. I'd like to think he keeps the ability to speak Parseltongue even after Voldemort dies and the Horcrux is gone. I like to think the Horcrux wasn't the only reason he could speak it. Like, in my headcanon, Lily is a descendant from a Gaunt family squib line and that's why Voldy's soul triggered the Parseltongue gene that was already there. So, in my version of the books in my head, Harry could still speak it even after book 7.

Like, these are the ones I could think of off the top of my head.

[cloveroctobers]

Hello, I was wondering if you could write angst with Luca from the bear where Luca spends more time at the cafe than he does at home. And him and reader possible get into an argument about it? It can end however you see fit. - ✨

SITUATIONS — LUCA [Summer Requests]

A/N: angst you want? Say no more! I tweaked it just a bit so it ties in with s3, and it’s shorter than what I typically write but I hope you still like! ✨

WARNINGS: language & uncertainties in a relationship.

𓇼࿔*𝜗𝜚°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𓇼࿔*𝜗𝜚°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𓇼࿔*𝜗𝜚°❀⋆

“Do I need to be worried?” You spit out, feeling your heart hammer in your chest as you stand a great distance from the bonfire.

No matter how far you and Luca walked off, it was evident to your friends, old friends of his, and new friends that your conversation was anything but good.

You were beyond frustrated with Luca and that was rare. The both of you did pretty well at voicing exactly what may be going on with each other but ever since you chose to continue to follow him back to the states, back to Chicago, you gradually saw the change in your boyfriend of five years. It’s only been a week into month two. Some called you crazy for picking up your life yet again to be right beside Luca but love will make you do things others might not understand.

“What are you on about?” Luca’s brows curve in awards in confusion.

Folding your arms in defense you swallow, “Luca, you showed up almost two hours late here with her, with Sydney. I called you repeatedly after looking at the spaces nearly all day and it took your sister to show up to the new spot, to tell you to respond to me; that’s only because she lives on that side of town.”

Luca took a three month leave from Brimstone’s Gate and since your slowly growing e-commerce pottery business: Whimsy Glazes was mostly online, you were able to pick up and go as well, although the rental space you paid for in Copenhagen carried all of your supplies and equipment, you considered opening up a physical business once Luca voiced after a month being in Chicago, that he would contemplate moving to the states for a change and to be closer to his sister.

Again it felt like you were making the sacrifices to be here with him and not once did he ask you but it was started to feel like a given. Like you were expected to just follow and maybe that was your first mistake once you left New Zealand behind. That’s where the two of you met for the first time, you’ve been settled out there since after you graduated university but Luca showed you another piece of the world once he came into yours.

New Zealand was for you what Copenhagen was for him and now he wanted a change but did that also include a different path from you as well? You never had doubts about your relationship even making it this far and not to say that it was a spotless relationship but this situation was talking to your gut more than ever now.

Luca deeply inhales as he responds, “I truly apologize for that love. Time got the best of us and I’m bad with keeping my phone on silent…that sound’s like excuses I know and I’ll do better.”

Digging your fingers into your forearms you state, “see that’s the thing…I had a feeling you would say this to me but you’ve been at Shapiro’s spot constantly.”

Luca loved to give Chef Shapiro shit since he tended to be snarky, always observant along with being opinionated and pushy—or persistent according to him. Once his found his own space, got it inspected, made the changes, and started planning out the interiors, Shapiro was quick on looking for employees. He even considered Luca but it seemed like the now buzzed haired blond (for the season—his words, something else he recently changed as well) was also holding out much like Sydney.

So you heard.

Ultimately she made her decision.

“I alternate,” Luca interrupts, “between the bear and Smudges—I mean—The Blue-Chandelier Bistro—sheesh that’s still a fucking mouthfull isn’t it?” He attempts to lighten the tension but you’re not backing down which makes him sigh, “Babe, I’ve never given you a reason to be worried about us have I?”

Shaking your head you look away from his stare out into the darkest of the navy ocean, “No but it’s been five years and the way you’re around her reminds me of how you first approached me: Slightly awkward but talkative, curious, a glimmer in the left eye of yours.”

Luca’s shaking his head, reaching to grab your chin so that your focus is back on his, “No, don’t do that. I love you, only you. I feel like you’re looking for something that isn’t there. Syd and I are mates and I thought you two got on well too.”

“I like Sydney.”

That was not a lie. She was thoughtful, passionate, funny even, and you related to her on experiencing not being heard in spaces especially in art school. It’s what drove you to have your own business and be your own boss. You genuinely wanted to see her succeed and you wouldn’t be pointing the fingers at her. Call it insecurity or the purple devil (like you often did) but somewhere beneath it all the signs felt like they were becoming more clear.

“She brilliant.” Luca comments in admiration and you slowly nod your head, “I give credit where credit is due and over this short span of time, we’ve connected.”

“And spent a lot of time together.” You add, “Which you’re supposed to do with your kind of field, I get it. There’s a group chat that I’m not part of with you, Sydney, and Marcus and I just feel excluded majority of the time. I start to think: Is it because I’m not a chef so I wouldn’t get it?”

It couldn’t be because you still hung out with other chefs with and without Luca and although you understand that it was healthy to have separate moments from your partner…the pull was becoming evident and you weren’t sure how Luca didn’t see that.

Luca says, “No. I didn’t think you wanted to be in the chat honestly. I’m completely fine not being in yours with your friends.”

“Because you hate them but there’s not a single friend that you have that I hate. I tend to like who you have around because I trust your judgement.”

Luca scoffs, “but you don’t trust me when it comes to Sydney? Which I don’t appreciate by the way. I wouldn’t do that to you, to us. Not when we’ve been together for almost six years.”

Sometimes saying the amount of time spent together feels like a safety net, to remind yourselves that it’s been a good minute, that the love should still be there and it is. However it would be foolish to say that ever since the days flew by in Chicago that the changes were beginning to feel real. Luca had the opportunity to rebuild the gap in his relationship with his sister, consider a life here, view what the cooking atmosphere would be like in the Windy City permanently as he ran down the list of restaurants to tour, taste test, and cook in.

Life was a bit slower in Copenhagen and now this was starting to feel like a consequence and it shouldn’t be, not when you love someone this much.

“…if there’s something there, you need to tell me—

“But there’s not!” Luca finds himself yelling and that’s something he never wanted to do in a relationship. That was his rule, to talk things out and not to shout in order to be heard.

It was what reminded himself of his parents. The arguments would be so loud and long that he would knock on his older sister’s door to hide in there for the night. She would turn the tv up so loud and their night would turn into a whole slumber party of watching movies and playing games until their eyes called them to sleep. He always ended up crashing first while his sister, Georgina would sneak out to grab snacks because she knew Luca would wake up hungry once the house has gone quiet. They were once siblings that provided comfort while dealing with the loss of their parent’s union.

Luca rubs at his jaw in vexation, beginning to pace while your heart continues to pound inside of its cage. He clears his throat as he turns back to you, “I’m sorry for raising my voice and I’m sorry for making you think that there’s anybody else. I know being here means that we both have to find our footing again but I don’t have doubts.”

“That we’ll make it?” You quiz, wondering how the man you loved could be clueless.

Luca frowns, “We don’t need to make it, we just carry on like we always do.”

“I don’t think that’s working for me though, Lu. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” You sigh, “there’s things going on for the both of us separately but what is there together?”

Luca goes silent at this. He wasn’t sure at first what you meant by this but as he starts to think, you only share moments at night in that cold stale hotel bed together and by then you’re both too tired to carry full on conversations. New information was only shared in passing before you’re both out the door again. There should be more than this like it once was but this can’t continue on if it feels like things are at a standstill.

“Then we’ll do whatever we need to do to get back where we should be.” Luca decides with determination in his eyes, “neither of us are quitters right? Don’t tell me you’ve given up?”

Your throat felt heavy with tears as you managed to get out, “…I’m scared Luca.”

“Good,” Luca exhales with a laugh as he pulls you into his arms, “that means you still give a shit about me and that’s a bit of a relief, I won’t lie.”

You sink into his arms, echoing his laughter you lock your arms behind his back squeezing your head against his chest, “I don’t think I can ever stop even if you don’t decide to stay.”

Luca feels his heart ache at your words because he didn’t believe that this was an end of an era for you two but now that it’s been brought to his attention, he realizes this situation is just as deep as you were experiencing it and he was willing to fight for it with you.

Saying goodbye didn’t sit right with Luca, since he tried to stay in long relationships and figured out what relationships entailed his time, energy, and heart. You were always worth it to him and he never wanted to imagine what life would be like without you.

So he kissed the top of your head mumbling, “I’m not going anywhere.”

That was a promise Luca intended to keep and you chose to believe him…unsure if this would be a mistake on your part underneath it all.

𓇼࿔*𝜗𝜚°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𓇼࿔*𝜗𝜚°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𓇼࿔*𝜗𝜚°❀⋆

Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

[venerawrites]

Hello! I'm in love with your work ❤️ I was wondering if you could do a scenario where Gaara's girlfriend/fiancée gets hurt on a mission protecting Kankuro?

author's note: You have the patience of a saint and I am so thankful not only for this amazing idea, but also for your continuing support! I think this became a lit bit more angsty than intended, but I still hope you enjoy! <3

There were many moments in Gaara's life when he felt dislike toward his siblings. Most of them took place in their younger years, during which he was isolated by his father and grew to see them as nothing more than strangers, who just so happened to be related to him by blood.

The turning point in their relationship was his encounter with Naruto. Building bonds at such a late stage was not an easy task - especially since he could tell both Temari and Kankuro were still somewhat scared of him - but he was just as motivated to do it, as he was to prove himself to everyone in Suna. So while it did take some time, he started to get to know his siblings more and get closer to them.

He loved his sister, he truly did. She was smart, strong, and independent and the young Kazekage couldn't be prouder of her. She was the wisest of the three, always there to listen and provide her opinion when he needed it the most. He could trust her with anything that was laying heavy on his heart or mind, and she never judged or criticized him.

The bond he shared with Kankuro, however, was completely different. Gaara considered him as his best friend and right hand, and while he did not admit it out loud, he was closer to him rather than Temari. In his head, he justified it based on the fact that they were both male and that he didn't really have that much time to build a close relationship with Temari, as soon after the war she moved to live in Konoha and live with the Nara.

Since Kankuro was the only one left in Suna, it was only natural for them to grow even closer. Despite their differing views on many topics, sometimes including what is best for the village, the red-haired shinobi trusted him with his life. This was the reason why he was always assigned as your partner when you had to do missions outside Suna - he knew that no matter what, his brother would do anything to protect you.

Or at least he thought he knew.

As he observed your bruised from in front of him, his eyes narrowed once they landed on your arm sling. Your mouth kept moving, but your explanation fell deaf on his ears - all he cared about was the fact you stood before him with a broken arm and numerous cuts and bruises.

"-so we were greatly outnumbered! So my arm was broken in two places, but luckily the nurse said it will be only 12 weeks till-"

"Where is Kankuro right now?", this was the first time he spoke since you started giving him detailed account of what went wrong on the mission and the roughness in his voice did take you by surprise.

Furrowing your brows, you tilted your head to the side, a flicker of annoyance flashing in your eyes. You specifically told your fiancé that his brother was dealing with all the paperwork downstairs, which is why you have decided to come here and attend the debriefing meeting by yourself.

"He is in the office downstairs, doing the-"

Interrupting you once again, Gaara knocked loudly on his desk, his subtle signal that he needs the attention of the guards outside. The door opened and one of them peeked his head inside, bowing slightly as a sign of respect to the village leader.

"Bring Kankuro up here", the Kazekage said, while placing his elbows on the flat surface in front of him, "Now."

The masked guard nodded his head and closed the door without another word. You stood frozen in your place, silently watching him and trying to understand what was up with him. His expression remained stoic, while his shoulders were slightly up, a sign of how tense he was. He couldn't even bring himself to look at you, as his pale eyes remained fixed on the wall behind you.

"What is this about?", your voice was laced with irritation as you rested your free hand on your waist. He briefly glanced at you, before letting out a heavy sigh and closing his eyelids.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Faking ignorance was definitely not his strong suit and your gritted your teeth in annoyance at his behaviour. Gaara was a fairly mature man - sure, he did had his childish moments sometimes, but given that he did not had a normal childhood, you excused his odd behaviour in the rare moments it occurred. In fact, most of the time it was easy for you to understand what was wrong without him even telling you, as he has never been that good at hiding his emotions.

As you studied him now, however, you were completely lost. The mission was success and while you and Kankuro did get ambushed by eight ninjas at once, you managed to get away relatively uninjured.

Well, if you excluded your broken arm.

"Is that because of my injury?", you felt suddenly enlightened at what the problem may be and given the way his jaw clenched, you knew you hit the jackpot. Gaara has always been fiercely overprotective of you, not only because you were his fiancée, thus making you the target of many rogue ninjas, but also because you were the one person he could not afford to lose.

Before he can reply, there was a faint knock on the door, followed by your partner's low "Enter". The door opened and Kankuro stepped into the room, his lips curving into a small smile once his eyes landed on you. The moment he turned his head to his brother, his whole face fell and he cleared his throat, before bowing his head.

"Kazekage-sama", he greeted in a small voice, almost ashamed. Gaara did not return the greeting, instead moved one of his arms to motion to one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. Understanding his silent request, Kankuro slowly dragged his feet to it, buying himself time to come up with good explanation of what went wrong.

The puppet master may be a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. The boiling rage behind his brother's eyes was easily recognisable for him, even if his younger sibling was trying to mask it behind a cold and stiff expression.

"What did I tell you before you left?", the Kazekage asked, while leaning forward. Kankuro gulped at the question, focusing his attention to his fidgeting fingers in his lap, while you moved closer to the two males, eager to finally get some clarity.

Did they make some kind of secret deal without you knowing?

"Answer!", Gaara barked, his patience running thin and both you and Kankuro jumped at the unusual loudness of his voice. The Kazekage, who was always so calm and collected, never raised his tone like this.

The painted man cleared his throat, before lifting his gaze and trying to offer a diplomatic response:

"Well, technically you said a lot of stuff..."

The red-headed shinobi scrunched his nose and his lips twisted into a scowl, obviously unhappy with the answer he was given. Sensing there is a storm brewing, you sat on the other available chair next to the puppet master, while your attention kept jumping between the two men. At this point you felt like a third wheel to their discussion, even though it was obvious that you were somehow connected to the topic.

"Is anyone going to tell me what is going on?"

They both ignored you, instead continuing to stare at each other, one with clear distaste, the other one - with shame. One long minute passed, during which you felt all three of you will suffocate because of the rising tension.

"Your future brother-in-law is incompetent and useless fool", Gaara finally broke the silence, moving his focus toward you, "is what is going on."

Without the chance to even assimilate what he just told you, your head whipped to the side once Kankuro slammed his hands on the desk, his face twisted in a mix of frustration and guilt. He glared draggers at his brother, yet the slight tremble of his bottom lip hinted that he was more afraid rather than angry.

“It’s not my fault! I have only one head, you know?! I can’t have my attention and sight at everything! She jumped behind my back and I didn’t even notice her before it was too late!”

Your lover shook his head, a disgusted scoff leaving his lips.

“Thank Kami you don’t have more than one head! You don’t even use this one, I can’t imagine what it would be if you had more”, the mockery in his tone soon left and was replaced by annoyance, “I told you to keep your eye on my fiancée and keep her safe! At. Any. Cost! And here she is, covered in bruises and injuries, with a broken arm!”

Hearing his words, your jaw fell. Now it was your turn to look at him with disgust. Did he think you were that weak and unskilled, he had to ask his brother to supervise you?

“Wait”, you closed your eyes , trying to gather all your thoughts together, “You ask him to keep his eye on me?”

The note of disbelief in your voice finally caught the attention of both males and they exchanged a look, before turning toward you. Gaara's face softened and he cleared his throat, but the moment he opened his mouth to answer, Kankuro beat him to it.

"You bet he was - "Don't let her out of your sight!"; "Don't let her fight unless absolutely necessary!"; "Make sure to escort her everywhere she goes", the puppet master recited the list of orders given to him by his brother. With each sentence, your breathing became more and more rigid, while your lover burned holes at the other man's head.

Did he take you for some kind of helpless damsel in distress that needs constant protection? Of course, as the partner of the Kazekage you knew it would be hard to separate your personal life from your work, but you always tried your best to keep things between you professional on the workplace. Learning he has been giving directions to Kankuro behind your back, when he specifically promised you that he would treat you as any other sand shinobi, did feel like a low blow.

"I can't believe you!", you scoffed, turning your attention back to Gaara, "You promised me you won't interfere in my missions!"

"It's not like that", your lover sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was worried about you, was that a crime? The world out there was dangerous, especially since he had enemies everywhere and the fact you did not seem to appreciate this frustrated him to no end. Why can't you just understand?

"Should I leave?", Kankuro looked between you awkwardly, his hands already gripping the edge of the stool so he can lift himself. Deep down he knew that maybe he did say more than he was supposed to. So far he always kept the arrangements he had with his brother private, but as he felt almost cornered by you and him, it wall just... slipped out.

The Kazekage nodded his head, but not before mouthing "I am not done with you" to his sibling. Once the door closed and you were left alone in the room, his focus landed back on your fuming form.

"My love-"

"You promised!", you interrupted before he can butter you up and make you question the reasonableness of your anger, "Do you doubt my skills as a shinobi? Do you not trust I can handle myself?"

He winced at the tone of your voice and he briefly glanced at your arm sling, before looking back into your eyes. Taking a deep breath, he stood from his chair and walked around his desk, so he can sit at the place previously occupied by Kankuro next to you. While his hands itched to reach out to you and just take you in a hug, he held himself back, choosing to rest his palms on his knees instead.

"Love, you are one of the most skilled and powerful sand shinobi", he started, carefully choosing each word, "I know you can handle both yourself and your team! But I am worried about you - you are the fiancée of the Kazekage, the dangers are-"

You shook your head interrupting him once again mid-sentence. Pressing your tongue against your cheek, you tried to control the urge to just stand up and leave. He had shared his worries with you before and while you understood his point of view, you felt like he didn't even try to get yours.

"Do you know how embarrassing this is? No wonder everyone in the team treats me strangely", you huffed, "I am your fiancée, but I also your subordinate and you are my leader and employer. You can't just... interfere with my work like this!"

Leaning back against the chair, you buried your head in your hand and waited for the long excuse which you knew was coming. It was not the first time you have discussed this and you also suspected it won't be the last.

"You are right. I shouldn't have done that", he said after a minute of silence, "I am sorry."

Here it goes-wait! ... Did he really said he was sorry?

Lifting your head almost cautiously you eyed him with a mix of suspicion and surprise, not expecting for him to apologize. While he was often good at self-reflection, it was no secret that apologizing was not really Gaara's thing- in the rare occasions when he was wrong, he always found a way to justify his decisions and actions, because the truth is, he did always have good intentions.

"Are you really?", the question came out sharper than you intended and once you saw him flinch back, you reached for his hand, your anger disappearing almost immediately. You rubbed small circles on his skin with your thumb, while you decided to be honest with how you felt.

"Look, I am just... Other ninjas are already thinking that I do get special treatment because we are together. And when you specifically ask them to act as my protectors, even if it is just your brother, it doesn't really help my case. I can take care of myself."

Gaara's pale eyes fell down to your broken arm before lifting to your face again, one invisible brow raising. You clicked your tongue while rolling your eyes at him.

"Hey, don't give me that look! I saved my teammate as any shinobi would do!"

He looked at you for a few seconds, before finally letting out a sigh and he brought your hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on top. His lips lingered there for a few seconds, before he pulled away, resting his chin on your intertwined fingers.

"I hate seeing you hurt", he finally admitted, "But you are right, I just... I can't help but think the worst every time you go away. I can't lose you! I really can't!"

"And you won't!", you squeezed his hand lovingly, your voice falling down to a whisper, "But I need you to trust me. Okay?"

The corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile and he leaned forward, placing his forehead to yours. If there was one thing you both hated doing, it was fighting. You felt his arms sneaking around your shoulders, carefully pulling you closer to him so he avoids hurting you. Before you can fully relax in his embrace, however, you lifted your head, searching his eyes:

"And no more scolding for Kankuro."

His body tensed and his expression twisted in disatisdaction.

"But-"

"No", you gave him one of 'your looks' and he watched you with a blank expression for a while, before he let out a huff and slowly nodded his head.

"Fine."

Little did you know, that while there was no scolding, their "talk" did take a long, long time afterwards... and maybe Kankuro was forced to give a few secret additional promises.

cc artwork: Ankush Sharma

[celestie0]

notes on kickoff ch.7

hellooo if you're here thank you for taking the interest! i just had some creative notes i wanted to get off my chest with the release of ch.7 lol i felt compelled to do so with this one i'm basically journaling here. you can read this after reading ch7 here!

I. on gojo's feelings

as for why didn't gojo just tell reader how he felt at the end of the chapter, and instead only says what he does. i think i rewrote this ending like five different times, he was never supposed to tell her at this point based on my story planning, but i did explore the idea of a dramatic confession here regardless, and it didn't fit for lots of different reasons for one, i think he's finally able to put himself in reader's shoes. it's true he's pretty dense and obviously has commitment issues/valid fears that keep him from opening up, but that still doesn't mean he hasn't hurt reader in a lot of different ways already. he realizes, whether intentionally or not, he's led her on and to do a complete turnaround within a few hours while she's already trying to process rejection as she is clearly withdrawn from him i believed would've been selfish on his part, and could possibly cause even more hurt over the fact that he could come off ingenuine. gojo is finally emotionally aware of her enough to recognize it, but he's not a perfect person so it still slips through that he's distraught at the thought of never seeing her again. in general i'm of the opinion that if someone asks for space, you respect that unless they say otherwise of note, just because he realizes that he has these feelings, doesn't necessary change his fears, as no single moment can undo years of trauma, so i think that's why he bites his tongue too. i'm not keen on making this a "woman fixes man" story but i moreso want to embrace the sentiment that you don't need to resolve every single bad thing that's ever happened to you in order to embrace love or happiness.

II. on gojo's commitment issues

i know it was brought up in the first gojo pov that he has issues committing to just one woman, but i wanted this chapter to reveal that it's really just his fear of opening up to people due to the still raw loss he feels of losing someone he loved. i aim with his pov to be more of a stream of his own consciousness rather than from an omniscient observer, which may explain the ambiguity. he's not sure if he's able to open up to a person in a way he knows is normal and healthy, so he settles on shallow connections instead. just wanted to clear this up, and say that it won't be any sort of plot point in which he struggles to be sincere or faithful when he seriously wants to commit to someone as he has no issues with that if he truly wants to be with them (unlike the whore he's been so far in the series lmao)

III. on strawberry vanilla soda

btw i've never had this flavor of soda i'm not even sure where i came up w it loool or if it even exists. i was kind of toying with the idea of gojo seeing reader's message on the can during the match, and that would maybe help him get more focused on the field (sooo sports romance cliche but i still love it haha) but i settled on him seeing it afterwards to kinda parallel the clumsiness he's had with reader so far. for some reason, the universe just doesn't want him to get his timing right with her lol

IV. on angst/conflict

i know ch7 was a bit differentttt less gojo x reader and more just gojo lmfao, it was also a bit angsty. it definitely won't stay angsty throughout the remaining chapters. this was just gojo's lore drop chapter LOL. there will still obviously be angst here and there, but i've got a lot of fun, cute, tense, silly, passionate, messy scenes still planned similar to ch5&6 because i prefer writing those kinds of scenes haha. ultimately this story was always meant to be a full-circle romance, so ch7 was to lay some of the emotional groundwork that gets brought up as the story builds to its climax

that's all i have to saayyy if you actually read this whole thing i love you?? lol. ch7 really emotionally resonated with me as i wrote it, both as someone who understands how gojo feels but also as someone who understands how reader feels, and if it resonated with you too then that makes me very happy and that's ultimately every writer's dream haha. was very cathartic to share these thoughts. i hope to see you in the next oneeee <3 have a wonderful rest of your day!

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Honey - Teaching You How to Play Darts

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

I apologize for not posting this in a timely manner, this ask was scheduled to be posted after the Kalim ask and I was having a lot of trouble with that one. Anyway, I decided to make this one into a oneshot instead of having it be Headcannons. Thank you for requesting something for Nanbaka, it's one of my favorite animes/mangas at the moment. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯

"Huh? Darts..?"

[Name] asks, tilting his head to the side and making his somewhat long hair sway with the motion.

It was during lunch that Honey, along with Trois, had appeared in front of the eating h/c-ette and suggested playing a game of darts. The purple-pink-haired inmate nodded proudly, taking a seat next to his boyfriend.

"Yes, Darts! You remember the prize for winning inmates at the New Year's tournament?—"

He asked, leaning an arm on the table and receiving a soft nod from [Name].

"—Well, that number eleven from building thirteen had a game room be built there as his prize. They have a few dart boards in there, so I wanted to ask Supervisor Kiji to let us go so I could teach you how to play!"

[Name] raised a brow and set his chopsticks down on the edges of his bowl, pausing to finish his meal in favor of answering his handsome boyfriend. He rested his head on the palm of his hand and closed his eyes shut for a moment, shielding them from the cafeteria's overhead lights.

"Hm. Thirteen's supervisor is okay with sharp objects like darts being in the hands of inmates? Is that even allowed? It sounds irresponsible..."

The h/c-ette mutters, picking up his cup and taking a sip of his tea while reopening his eyes and sending a half-lidded side glance to the man seated next to him.

Honey chuckles and puts an arm around the taller's shoulder, pulling him in close. He leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of his lips; ignoring Trois' catcalling in the background.

"That's true~... but you'll go, yes? For me?"

He hums as he rests his head on the e/c-eyed man's shoulder; bringing his other hand up to play with a few locks of hair.

[Name] lets out a huff from his nose as he narrows his eyes for a second before sighing and gently laying his head on top of Honey's.

"Hm... fine."

He mutters quietly, pressing a kiss on his boyfriend's forehead.

"This is the game room? Isn't this a bit... excessive?"

[Name] mutters from his position behind Kiji, Trois, and Honey; a comical sweatdrop slowly going down his head as he observes the room that the four of them had just entered.

The game room was very spacious and welcoming; a large lounge area with wide sofas was occupied by an inmate who seemed to be reading what looked like tonight's dinner menu and another who was taking the plastic off of a couple of card games. Off to the side was a sit-in bar that presumably served nonalcoholic drinks, this is still a prison after all. A few arcade games, one of which being played by a bandaged inmate with green hair, lined the wall, and a nice billiards table stood in the middle of the room.

And, of course, a few dart booths were there, just as Honey had said, sitting just opposite the lounging area.

It was far too grand to be here in a prison in [Name]'s opinion, but this is Nanba we're talking about here. The entire prison island glimmered like a freshly polished diamond, there's not much that seems out of place when it comes to that.

"They're over here, ignore those three and let's get to throwing some darts!"

Honey cheers; breaking h/c-ette from his observation as he takes them by the hand and drags them over to the unoccupied dart booths.

Stopping in front of them, the purple-pink-haired man releases [Name]'s hand and turns to the booth, and squats down, opening the large cabinet doors at the bottom and taking out the needed box of darts and board. He then stands, closing the cabinet and handing the taller the box before fixing the board into place.

"Alright. Now, I want you to show me how you throw; I need to know how good you are first."

The handsome man directed, gently taking the box from the taller's hands and sliding it open to reveal the darts inside.

[Name] sighed quietly, hoping his lover couldn't hear it as he hesitantly pinched a dart between his fingers and nervously took aim at the board. He threw a few glances at Honey, each time receiving an encouraging nod back before he finally threw it;—

Pomph

—it was way off. Sticking out of the printed three and ever so slowly slipping out before it clattered onto the hard wooden lip that sat atop the cabinet.

Honey chuckles from beside the h/c-ette; taking out another and holding it beside his face, just about eye level before handing it off to the taller and gesturing for him to try again.

[Name] huffs as he replicates his boyfriend's movements and prepares to throw the dart once again before you're stopped by Honey as he sets the box to the side and makes his way behind him.

"Move this leg forward just a bit and when you throw, don't let your wrist go limp."

The shorter directs from behind, resting his hands on the e/c eyed's waist after he corrects their posture.

"Hm."

[Name] hummus as he glances back at his lover with lightly warmed cheeks before turning his focus back to the board.

Following the earlier example and directions he was given, the h/c-ette aims the board, holding the dart at eye level before throwing it forward.—

Pomph

—Ending up just three inches shy of the bullseye in the middle.

"Good job, Baby! I knew you could do it!"

Honey cheers from his new place in front of [Name] before he wraps his arms around their waist and stands on his toes to place a loving kiss on their lips.

The taller looks away with burning cheeks before their moment is interrupted by the loud exclamations of the surrounding inmates and two supervisors that they seemed to have forgotten about. Well, barring Trois of course, he only gave the two a thumbs up and a smirk before turning back to the billiards table.

They turned the rest out; though they could faintly hear the loud questions from building thirteen's cell thirteen and the screams of building thirteen's supervisor towards their own.

What a day.

🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯•♡•🎯

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

@banzaitaka

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

Chapter IV

Xaden had the same thoughts in Battle Brief because his question was kind of based on mine. The fact that we were thinking the same way gives me a boost of confidence. Not that I would rely on his opinion but since he is the wingleader (and that for a reason) it kinda makes me happy.

“You two are seriously something else. You knew everything in history and in Battle Brief you were badass, especially you Arya.” Rhiannon says with an exciting glint in her brown eyes.

Clad in our sparring clothes (a short sleeved black shirt with tight trousers) we’re currently standing next to the sparring mat where Aurelie and Ridoc are fighting each other. Today is just assessment, that means we figure out where everyone’s skills lay, or if some even have skills.

Sawyer found his way next to me, Violet and Rhiannon on my other side. I quietly observe the match but it`s obvious that both of them already had their fair share of training in the past.

Violet and Rhiannon talk about helping each other out, Vi with academics, Rhiannon with sparring. Sawyer joins the conversation. “I could give tips to survive combat training.” Right, he already has some experience.

A tooth goes flying. Ew. “Enough!” Professor Emetterio shouts.

“What about you, Arya?” Rhiannon asks curious, her eyes not leaving the match in front of us but it's Violet who answers her. “She is good in everything. No, not just good. Magnificent.” I scoff as Emetterio calls out the next match. “Hardly. I may have some training, but there are always fighters who are more dangerous than I am” I say to Violet. A certain cadet from First Wing for example.

A tall, bulky guy from our wing, but second year from another squad stands on the mat. Since we have an uneven number of cadets in the squads someone will have to step into that match with him.

A sickening crack echoes through the hall as Jack Barlowe snaps the neck of his squad mate. Sweet “-Malek” Violet whispers horrified. He seriously is crazy, more than that. I don’t even want to know what goes on in that head, but what I know is, that he is dangerous. We really have to watch out, especially if he’s after Violet.

Emetterio scolds him but Barlowe obviously doesn`t give a flying fuck about what the professor has to say.

Emetterio turns back around and his eyes find mine. Shit. “Melgren, your turn.”

“That will be good. Don`t hurt him too much, Arya” Violet says with a exiciting grin while the others wish me good luck.

I walk over and step onto the mat. “Must be my lucky day to be the first one here to have a chance beating you up, Melgren. Are we allowed to break bones beside the neck?”

Is he- is he dumb?! Even though it's just assessment and Emetterio wants to see what we can do, it is not forbidden to break some bones. We just shouldn`t overdo it, that`s what the challenges are for. Best example of what we shouldn’t do is Barlowes match, if you can even call it a match. Was pretty one sided if you ask me.

Emetterio must think the same because he scoffs and but looks unimpressed at him. He explained the rules of assessment two times before.

I decide to rile him up a bit. “Why? You want to make an appointment with Nolon beforehand for you? You know, just in case.” The right corner of my mouth lifts up. A murmur goes through the crowd and a few laughter can be heard.

Pissed, he turns my way and takes his position and god help me – that must be the worst starting stance I have ever seen. “Don’t worry. I`ll make it short” I tease him further.

That gives him the rest and he storms towards me like an angry bull. I dodge a few of his punches which he clearly doesn`t like and only makes him madder. He may be tall and muscular, but he lacks agility. His movements are uncoordinated, he moves with pure strength, not with logic.

Okay, enough of that. Time to show what I can do.

He takes a step forward; I dodge his fist and punch him square in the face onto his nose. A sickening crunch can be heard, and with the way his nose is deformed, it is definitely broken, but I don`t care. I smack my fist into his jaw, hard, and he falls over, unconscious. HUH?!

Well fuck, that was not the plan. Did I really punch that hard? I stand over his unconscious figure, eyes wide open, mouth dropped in disbelief.

My stunned face finds Emetterios with a similar expression and notice how most of the other cadets stopped what they were doing. Violet looks proud (she saw me sparring more than just once), Rhiannon, Sawyer and the rest of our squad are wide eyed, speechless. “What the fuck?” Someone shouts.

“Well … I think he yields.” I say with a confused smirk on my face.

Emetterio scoffs but I can see the proud glint in his eyes. “Damn Melgren, that was certainly a new record but next time, please let them stay awake.” he says.

I step down from the mat and walk over to my squad. Aetos is the first one to greet me. “That was really good, Arya. I have to give you that, you seem to be an excellent fighter.” A compliment, from Dain Aetos? My face must show the confusion and amusement because he just rolls his eyes but doesn`t say anything else.

Ridoc gives me a fist bump. “That was incredible” Sawyer says, still in awe. “The way you were assessing him and kept your focus on the way he moved. You studied him during the fight and never lost control,” he adds. It was something my father taught me personally when he had the time (which wasn`t often) to fight with me.

“And the way it only took you two punches to knock him unconscious” Rhiannon grins. “Yeah, that was certainly not the plan. But you just have to know where you have to punch” I explain. “I can teach you, if you want.” All four of them nod their head furiously at my offer. Laughing I turn around and find Emetterios gaze fixed on Violet, Imogen Cardulo, a pink haired second year with the relic adorning her arm, next to him. Uh oh.

“Sorrengail, your turn.” Shit.

[jusalle]

★ Lionel Messi Imagine ☆

☆ Jealousy ★

You and your boyfriend of 4 years were at dinner. Your boyfriend Lionel Messi was invited to a dinner with many other professional football players. It was a friendly dinner.

As you and Leo went, Leo was excited for you to meet some of his friends that he works with, you were excited to but nervous at the same time.

Leo took notice of the small detail.

" Mi amor, no te preocupes, te amarán. " Leo said softly was a soft smile.

(My love, don't worry, they'll love you)

As the two of you got to the restaurant, it was beautiful in your opinion.

The two of you walked in, there were people already greeting Leo. Before you got to your tables, it was handshakes after handshakes, your hand was already tired.

" My hand is already tired Leo" you laughed as Leo laughed along.

" Meu Amor, trust me when I say, there's going to be plenty more greetings" Leo said as he laughed.

After awhile of you and Leo talking with people you notice a commotion of people at the entrance and so did Leo.

As you took a closer look, you realized who it was.

Cristiano Ronaldo?

You were shocked that he was also going to be here. You knew about the rivalry Leo had with Cristiano on field but off the field, you knew it was friendly.

After the commotion lessened, you noticed Cristiano walking towards you and Leo.

" Leo, nice to see you again" Cristiano said with a smile.

From there, Leo and Cristiano talked but Leo stopped speaking and noticed you havnt said a word, it wasn't no surprised cause you weren't a very social person.

" Cristiano, meet my girlfriend Y/n" Leo said with a sweet smile as Leo observed your features.

" What a pleasure to meet you Miss Y/n" Cristiano said as he grabbed your hand and kissed it.

Leo noticed that, at first he didn't take it personally, so he let it slide.

After the introduction, all three of you sit at a table with acouple other people.

As time went on, you made conversations with Cristiano for a bit as he mostly talked with Leo but then Cristiano suddenly turned his attention to you.

It definitely was odd to you, but you didn't want to be mean.

After awhile, you noticed Leo seemed off and you didn't like it.

As for Leo, he simply couldn't take it anymore. Cristiano kept saying flirty comments and doing little gestures to make you smile.

" Mi amor, I'm going to talk to Enzo, I'll be back" Leo said with a smile and he nodded towards you and Cristiano as he walked off.

You could tell the smile was off, that smile could fool anyone but not you, somthing was off but you didn't know what.

As Leo walked to his good friend Enzo Fernandez, Enzo was grinning at Leo.

" Better go get your girl, before he steals her away" Enzo playfully laughed.

Leo just glared at Enzo as he whispers a quiet 'Pendejo' under his breathe

(Idiot)

Leo and Enzo began to talk. The whole time, Leo had his gaze on you but especially Cristiano.

Leo didn't like how Cristiano kept doing flirty things and you were alright with it. He simply was jealous, Leo is never a jealous person but when it comes to you, it's different.

Then Leo started to hear people talking. They were talking about you and Cristiano.

"Isn't she with Lionel Messi?"

" He just might steal her away"

"If she picks Cristiano, I won't be suprised he's better than Lionel"

Those were some things he's heard but eventually he couldn't take it anymore.

Enzo heard what the people were talking about. By then Enzo knew what Leo was going to do.

" Good luck, Leo, ve a buscar a tu Novia" Enzo said as he chuckled at Leo as Leo said his goodbyes.

( Go get your girl )

Leo walked up to the table where you and Cristiano were sitting, he sat down and whispered into your ear.

"Mi amor, tenemos que irnos ahora. No me gusta la forma en que te está mirando." Leo said sternly but it wasn't directed toward you.

(My love, we have to go now. I dont like the way hes staring at you.)

At that moment, it clicked for you, the reason he was asking off because,Leo was jealous. You felt bad for making him feel that way.

'Pobrecito Leo' you thought in your head.

(Poor Leo)

Then you got pulled out of your thoughts when you heard Leo speaking to Cristiano.

" It was lovely to see you here but me and Y/n have to go now" Leo said as you and him stand up.

Leo grabs you hand and guides you to the exit.

He pulls to the car and tells you to get inside.

As the two of you got in the car, Leo began to talk.

" He kept looking at you Mi amor, your mine Amor. I just couldn't stand how He was looking at you and‐"

" Meu Amor look at me" You said and he kept on rambling on, not looking at you.

You look at Leo as you grab both sides of his face and made him look at you as you gave him a gentle kiss.

You pull away from the kiss and you look into Leo's brown eyes.

"I'm yours, you know I'm yours" you said to Leo softly.

Leo relaxes at you words and gave you a gentle kiss.

" Tu camino hacia el bien para mí, mi amor, gracias por entender." Leo said as he whispered into your ear.

( Your to good for me, my love, thank you for understanding)

"Te amo mi amor" Leo said as he kissed your forehead

You simply gave him a sweet smile

"Te amo mi amor" You said softly

( I love you to my love)

••••

Hello my lovlies! This one was a request and I thought it was cute so I decided to make it. I hope yall enjoy this one💙

[roo-bastmoon]

Homage vs. Copying

So I'm not feeling super great these days, but I still dip into Jikook spaces for a quick hit of lovely serotonin and to check up on my friends. Alas, I see some folks raging in the tags that JK is stealing Jimin's original concepts because he's too stupid or lazy to come up with his own... I'm not having flashbacks to BTS' plagiarism scandal, I'm not. I have thoughts--and lots of photo examples--about this topic, under the cut. Let's get into it--and keep it civil, too.

First off--let's just establish that folks have the right to use the Jikook tag to both celebrate and critique Jikook and the fandom around Jikook. People get to write about what they want on their blogs. They get to rant, so long as no one is using hate speech and slurs. (The minute I see that shit, I quietly report.)

Clearly, folks who are angry at Jungkook (or Jimin) come into the Jikook tag because they want attention from Jikookers, and the best use of my time and energy is to self-police and block them. That way I am not infringing on their right to scream into the wind all they like, but I also don't have to hear the noise.

Second off, unless JK called any of us up and said: "Hey, guess what? After 10 years of evidence to the contrary, suddenly I'm incapable of original thought, so I just take advantage of Jiminie-hyung, whom I keep calling out and hyping up and praising and asking to spend time with and traveling with and whose style I also match in my personal life!" maaaaybe we give the benefit of the doubt, and at least entertain the possibility that Jungkook is expressing visual alignment with Jimin because he can't just openly claim him in other ways?

Like, I'm not saying that IS what's going on, because Jungkook doesn't call me up and tell me his thoughts, either. It's fine; I'm not mad. He doesn't even text Jin back. I am just saying we should maybe sit with the idea for a bit and really marinate on what that might mean for a queer couple.

(Or we could just take in things without pronouncing any opinions yet--ya know, until we get more data around Jungkook's choices and how Jimin feels about it.)

It's fine not to assume the similarities are romantic gestures; but it's also fine not to assume the worst--that JK is siphoning off Jimin like a leech. Jungkook was consulted by the Seven stylist and he got to be creative director for his Vogue shoot; he also had some say in his music videos and performance stages. He is making choices deliberately, and it makes no sense to me that he would choose to openly copy a bandmate out of laziness. He has a professional reputation to consider.

Rather, I think this is one of the few places where he has artistic license to tether a thread between him and Jimin. I think he's paying homage.

(Side note: In film and photography, an homage is an imitation of another work. At first glance, it may seem like an homage is a rip-off or a lesser copy, but it actually pays tribute to and honors the source work. Homage is a great way to use other filmmakers' styles and content to crystallize your unique voice as a filmmaker.)

So that's my currently theory about what's going on.

Yet, honestly? None of us really know WHY there's so much similarity in their looks these days. The similarities are now stacking up so much as to be undeniable, though.

Personally, I'm leaning to this being a celebration of the fact that Jikook have always shared similar tastes; it's one of the many ways they click. Jikook know that. The stylists know that. So yeah, when JK gets a chance to observe and emulate (and expound upon) Jimin's style, he does. Because Jimin is one of the coolest people in the world to him. So he shows this in his own creative work and in his own personal wardrobe.

Here's why I hold that opinion at the moment:

Could this all be the stylists choosing to recycle looks or throw bread crumbs to Jikookers? I guess.

Could this be Jungkook just borrowing from Jimin as a shortcut? I'm not sharing his brainwaves, so I can't tell you there's zero possibility.

But what seems more likely is that of all the artists in the world, Jimin is the one Jungkook has always kept his eyes on. Out of love and respect, not malice and opportunism.

Like with the 1108 and 13 numbers that THEY keep inserting into their own communications, these similarities in style is also an emerging pattern.

If you feel protective of Jimin, I understand why you'd be wary of so much similarity. But consider what we know of both Jimin and Jungkook over the past 10 years...

While neither of these human beings are perfect (and they will continue to make mistakes), they clearly love each other. And you don't steal from the people you love. But you do honor how amazing they are whenever you get the chance.

So maybe let's just hear JK out on this?

Okay, that's all the energy I have for this topic. I got deadlines and health tests to power through over the next few weeks. If you comment with your own ideas, that's cool--but please keep it respectful of Jikook and each other. I don't want to banhammer anyone but I will.

Love, Roo

PS Even if I'm not around much, you can be sure I'll buy and stream 3D, and I encourage you guys to give it a chance too! <3

[a-forbidden-detective]

When I first read new chapter, I was glad that Toto's character has a development and now not afraid to look at corpses like Ron. Plus I thought he become smarter.

However, once I re-read the chapter, I realized something. Toto hasn't grown at all as a character.

His observation skills for important details have really improved, no doubt about it. But the ability to solve riddles and deduction haven't improved at all. Toto couldn’t do it and still can’t do it. After running around with Ron for over a year, I expected to see at least some kind of thought process.

And that's Toto's problem as a character in the story. He's just... boring.

No matter how much I love Toto, (he is the best in my heart) as a character he is NOT interesting to watch. He is not growing, he is as he was in the beginning “for everything good and fluffy. I value every human life” he remained that way. And it's not a bad thing i think, but compared to others it's boring.

Maybe I'm wrong but tell me how Toto has changed throughout history? And no, there’s no mention of self-confidence here because he still has self-destructive tendencies.

Now let's take others.Ron has obviously changed a lot and that's a good thing. Kawasemi changed and stopped being so strict. Chiori stopped being so a rabid fan of detective. Even Spitz and Amamiya changed somehow. I can't say anything about Toto.

No matter how paradoxical it may sound, the only thing that makes Toto stand out from the rest is his lack of personality and mysteries around him. He literally feels like a piece of cardboard but not as living person.

Most of his actions are literally told but not shown. It's like Toto himself was left out of the picture.

So yea , I think Toto is the character who suffers most at the hands of the author in manga

Heya! Thank you for waiting.

I thought about this long and hard. Like you, I love Toto, seeing that I am a Watsonian first of all. And at times, biased.

It is not easy to give you answers, bc I might change my opinion in the coming days. But for now, I can say that your concerns are valid, that Toto as a character remains somehow stagnant. On the other hand, if you change him, just a little bit, like he has reached Ron’s level in deduction we would lose him as a stand-in for the audience. Seeing that the titular character isn’t Toto, his role is more like Jiminy Cricket. He gives advices, scolds Ron, he can’t arse finding out the solution bc he isn’t the genius character. This is Ron’s place.

Once Akira changes him to something like equal to Ron then in the grand scheme of her storytelling, his role as the receiver of wonderful deduction would be gone.

And in all honesty, it is a bit mind-boggling how will Akira direct Toto’s characterisation in a new direction without involving him as someone who is part of the antagonists or giving us hints of his familial background, if she considers him as a deuteragonist of the story. Bc so far, like any Watson-esque character, he’s become a character in the background, it is the downside of having a genius and eccentric friend.

True, it is frustrating sometimes, and he’s maybe boring bc of it. In truth we applaud him when he shows signs of improvement. But I don’t think he’ll reach Kawasemi’s excellence nor Ron’s genius bc he’s none of these things. Kawasemi changed emotionally and has become a disciple of Toto.

And yet, and yet, Akira seems to be content in status quo.

He is changing but gradually. Maybe, the moment Ron will receive his license is the moment we’ll see Toto can hold his own. Cross my fingers.

PS: that’s why i am counting on the anime crew hoping that they can remedy some issues on Toto’s characterisation, which they did during the first season.