#literally you are amazing ney

[ectopal]

I'm still losing my mind about part 1 but I am so in love with part 2 it's unreal!!! Thank you for putting so much love into this, it's SO gorgeous and I literally can't go into enough depth about all of the reasons it's so fantastic!!!

but that sure as hell won't stop me from trying!!!!!

First, the reminder that Val's watching!!! Love the choice to point out that while she's not in this scene, Valerie is still here, still waiting for her perfect moment to strike. I love the subtle approach to this, I think it really shows a mastery of the craft and how creative you are. The glitchy effect around the edges of the panel were an excellent choice, btw!!! You said that the layout was difficult, but you pulled it off so flawlessly and it reads SO well.

I love Skulker's posture in the third panel, giving off huge 'I fucked up vibes' and I'm in love with how scared/worried he looks! Choosing to include the over Vlad's shoulder angle to make Plasmius look huge and Skulker really small was such a good choice; the angle/perspective really drives home how big this mistake was :D

Also one of my favorite Vlad's to date:

so menacing, so pointy <3 I love this man so much and you make him look so cool and dangerous. (I also love the zoom in to Skulker's shoulder and back as he's trying to avoid disaster, an EXTREMELY cool way to show he's backing up and I LOVE it)

AND I JUST NOTICED the teleportation lines in the fourth panel, I'm SCREAMING what a fantastic decision to show the 'here one second, gone the next' aspect of Vlad's movement.

And then to follow it up with THIS???

Amazing, perfect, so cool, what an awesome use of space (also something you're really good at, I love when you pull back and show scale/distance. You did it at the end of part 1 to show how far away they were from each other and I LOVED it)

I love Vlad's straight legs/untense posture. It shows how easy he's lifting Skulker and emphasizes that he's the bigger fish in the pond. The cape's movement behind him as it settles from the teleportation also looks very good.

Hey wait a second

I just noticed that their text boxes are different colors!!! I love that Vlad's is darker than Skulker's, that was a fun choice. And speaking of the text boxes, I love how they unravel a bit when the ghosts are mad but trying to hold it together vs. when they're actively yelling and they get spiky to show how upset/loud the characters are being.

I love these three panels. The juxtaposition of Vlad and skulker on either side, separated by Vlad's hand squeezing down on Skulker's neck is SO good. I LOVE that Vlad's face is shadowed and only the glow of his eyes comes through. It's also cool how still Vlad looks compared to Skulker; the line of movement from Skulker's eye helps show how panicked Skulker is in the situation compared to Vlad.

And then we get my favorite Vlad to date:

I love him. He looks SO FUCKING MAD and I really think it captures how badly Skulker fucked up. This man is fucking DONE. When I was writing, I decided that BOTH of them knew that if the next thing Skulker said wasn't an apology, Plasmius would have destroyed him right then and there. They way you drew him here captures that beautifully, and I'm blown away at how much justice you did this scene.

I'm sure as I keep looking I'm going to see more, because your art is the kind that is so well thought out and executed that I don't think it's possible to catch everything with the first (or tenth in my case) pass.

I can't say it enough, but THANK YOU for making this. I am so touched that you did this and I love everything about it <3 <3 <3

[PART ONE] - PART TWO (you are here!)

“Sorry,” Skulker bites out as soon as Plasmius loosens his grip. “I only meant, once I find it, it’s going to take a while before he’s back to normal.” - (Our Pupils Grope for the Shape of What We Know, CH 3.)

second part of the comic, original fic by @ectopal here on tumblr and ao3!

OKAY SO LET’S CHAT!! welcome to cap’n ney’s art context corner!

the layout for each page was something that really gave me a headache, and tbh i would probably have no idea how to assess if they make any sense. but my favorite page, by FAR, is in part one where vlad is yelling at skulker (“i gave you a job…”) etc. the idea was depending on how angry someone was, they’d break through the panelling more and more.

this. took. forever.

well not forever, only like. four days. but that’s because this had such a fucking grip on my brain that i genuinely dedicated almost all my spare time to it. i did a couple other doodles (that you probably saw yesterday) but man. i haven’t drawn this much in one sitting in a while.

this whole thing gave me so much more respect for the new graphic novel that’s coming out btw, because holy shit this was draining. i can’t imagine doing literally almost 200 pages.

thank you so much again to ectopal for sharing your fantastic works with us. and thank you to all of you for indulging my nonsense o7

i’d say i’m sorry for the spam, but really this will probably happen again someday. can’t help it if fics blow my mind :’D

[ofmiceandwomen]

Today I decided it will be a good day to talk about a private RP project I’m a part of in one secret TMA server which I share with @the-symphony-of-lydia-brown, @envisionedeternity and @thistlesandstories from our irl friend group and @mersilisk as the guest star and amazing antagonist.

I don’t post much and especially not for The Magnus Archives but I admit the podcast is very important to me. My favourite thing about it is the Regency Harem™️ and the historical episodes. Intertwining the lore with the actual historical events and characters is just amazing.

My irl friends know that I have certain level of interest in military history, and therefore I decided to make a use of it and suggested a plot line for a private RP - a short prequel story for Robert Smirke and young Jonah Magnus meeting. Also, we wanted a Slaughter story because there’s way too little of those in the podcast.

And the background is… The Napoleonic Wars. My beloved @thistlesandstories is a reenactor from that era and therefore they got very excited about the project. The excitement grew contagious and turned @the-symphony-of-lydia-brown into a proper horror DM.

The plot line so far:

Europe, 1811. Napoléon Bonaparte decided to be the problem. Given his notable military accomplishments, the Slaughter just couldn’t leave him unnoticed. After all, the concept of the Total War is born. One day, the Slaughter had came to the young Napoléon and offered him that he would become the greatest warrior of all time. The First Consul of France has agreed.

The Slaughter is rising, therefore it is convinced that the time has come to attempt a ritual. But for a war ritual you sorta need to have two sides, right. There are plenty of “other sides” - and there is one talented general, very dedicated to defending his country. Honourable and skilled man - Viscount Arthur Wellesley, soon to be the Duke of Wellington. Wellington was not having a great time in the Portuguese campaign as his forces were being pushed out by the French, when the Slaughter called to him - offering a victory in exchange for his service. Wellington considered, out of loyalty, he agreed with the nightmarish pact.

The situation improved as now the British and Portuguese army set up an attrition trap with the French falling in. Then guess what - the Slaughter calls again. (The attrition war is usually not exactly Slaughter aligned thing. The soldiers die of starvation, freezing, sickness, which is inherently a corruption thing - The Slaughter wants the bloodbath). Now, the Slaughter has called for a French man again - Marshal Michel Ney, said the Bravest of the Brave, known for his extremely risky approach to the war. An ideal candidate, so it seems . When the French finally retreated and Ney successfully bought their exhausted troops some time by his rearguard actions, the Piper showed up to him, offering him the victory. However, the French marshal has none of that shit and literally tells the War itself to shut the f**k up. Obviously, the Slaughter hates him now.

But now it’s May 1811. Now, time for some historical liberties, yay! Ney lost his command after he disrespected his commanding officer, and his wife convinced him to take a break - therefore they ended up chilling in a little German spa town with their children. The resort happens to be the favourite place of one of the Würtemberger aristocrat Albrecht von Closen. This young man decided it would be nice to invite his British friend Jonah Magnus.

Jonah is very young, he just turned 18, he inherited notable amount of money from his deceased uncle and he has many admirers for his intellect and general charms. However, even now, Jonah is more of a cold academic, a silent observer, with little interest in changing the world. He only wants to know and to understand. And he is just as cold to his companion, sir Barnabas Bennet, who is not really financially stable, but somehow he managed to incite himself to go with Jonah. Barnabas is like a pure opposite of Jonah - hot headed, adventurous and painfully irresponsible.

The last guest to arrive is… nobody else than Viscount Wellesley himself. He has earned a short period of leave and he just picked the same recreational spot as his enemy, Ney. It’s not a coincidence however, the Slaughter is still feeling petty and it wants to ruin Ney for his insolence. The future victor of Waterloo seems to be a good tool for ruining the Marshal’s involuntary holiday.

Oh well. He might not be the last to arrive. There is one more man, who will go down the TMA history - a certain gifted character in his early thirties, working hard on something barely connected to the architecture. Maybe it has something to do with his paranormal obsession. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome sir Robert Smirke!

So yes. The scene is all set. So far it goes very well. Except… it is not.

The disasters are here!

Jonah Magnus seems more interested in Wellesley than in his travel mate Barnabas. Out of desperation, Barnabas decides to finally confess his feelings for Jonah. It went well in his head. He approached the armchair in the lounge, seeing those rich copper curls. He took a deep breath and finally kissed him… Only to realise that Jonah Magnus is not the only one to sport this hairstyle. Red-haired marshal Ney is not amused and his first instinct was hitting the perpetrator right in the face and showering him with list of French profanities.

Albrecht von Closen has really bad feeling about Arthur Wellesley. He is himself a very sensitive and observant man and he disapproves of Jonah’s interest in the famous British commander. It is not the first gut feeling of this kind Albrecht had and he is not exactly sure what to do with that. He meets an unlikely ally - very angry Marshal Ney who is certainly not happy about Wellesley’s presence either.

Robert Smirke found what he was looking for- the presumed Slaughter avatar, aka the Napoleon’s bravest Marshal (please consider that Smirke is a Brit and therefore the idea of future Duke of Wellington as the avatar of the Slaughter is just unimaginable to him). The architect is not exactly a good candidate for a spy and therefore he gets noticed by Ney’s children who decide to take the situation in their hands and reveal the man who keeps stalking their father.

This happened so far. But the plot shall go on because… Enter The Stranger!

The Stranger is still obviously pissed after the Slaughter’s agents ruined their ritual in 1787. So it wants a revenge. And the ideal idea of their revenge is taking the Slaughter avatars one by one and turning them into waxworks. And obviously, their victim is the Napoleons’s marshal Ney.

Jonah Magnus is getting bored of relaxing and he is ready to meet a new friend: the famous Robert Smirke. The man, who will unknowingly bring the Apocalypse two centuries later.

The reasons for posting this is the following:

It’s 255th birthday of Michel Ney! He was originally meant to be a background character, but he sort of stole the show. I might or might not be responsible since I’m the one playing the gingers.

Also, this post might or might not work as a peer pressure for @the-symphony-of-lydia-brown to turn it into a fic 👀

The special acknowledgment goes to @thistlesandstories because we have discovered that somehow we really enjoy fighting with each other after six years of being together. The prequel for Ney and Wellington in Portugal was the best part of this year’s Christmas. I’m still crying for the French officer taken by the Piper though I also love the amount of research it goes into this activity. We ended up with new books on Ney and Wellington.

Credits:

Albrecht von Closen, Aloys Ney: @the-symphony-of-lydia-brown

Robert Smirke: @envisionedeternity

Arthur Wellesley, Barnabas Bennett, Eugène Ney: @thistlesandstories

The Stranger Danger, Léon Ney: @mersilisk

Jonah Magnus, Michel Ney: Me, because I’m all the gingers

[hisprettiestregret]

Neymar jr x F reader x someone else???

Jealousy/Teasing/Augst/Fluff/Nickname kink and many more.

PART ||

gif not mine🤍

After the accident you immediately realize that you’re still in touch with neymar you quickly pull away and apologize about lily’s action with pink checks Neymar would laugh “It’s okay y/n it doesn’t matter.” You look at Neymar unsure “ I promise” says while looking at you locking eyes with you… “So uh can I get your phone number?” Neymar ask “no not yet you can text me in insta just search my name and you’ll find me just follow me and I’ll follow you back.” You say quickly leaving him behind your heart beats are quite loud and quick you took a deep breath looking at the clock It’s 12:02AM how time flies!

You called Arabella and lily so you can tell them what happened and you want to go home they agreed Arabella was already coming to pick you and lily up.

Once you and lily got in the car you hit lily by the atm “Ow what was that for!!” Lily said rubbing her arm “you know exactly what was that for.” You say angrily “What happened?” Arabella asked kinda  curious “LILY PUSHED ME TO BUMB TO NEYMAR JR” you yell “wait wait wait the neymar jr that man who everyone simps for him in the TikTok comments??” You nod “Lily why” Arabella looks at her in  disappointment “YES RIGH-“ before you continue you hear Arabella say “WHY DID YOU PUSH HER WITHOUT ME???” Arabella laughs as she high fives lily

Ugh, these two you giggle “but seriously he looks so beautiful and handsome in real life..” you say leaning back head backward you can hear oos around you hell even the driver owed! Your checks immediately turned red quickly covering your face you told them everything

Once you got home you removed the makeup and took off your jewelry wearing your silk pajamas and closed the door and lights you lay on your bed closing your eyes slowly until the thought of Neymar came to mind did he follow you did he?? You open your phone and open insta and Neymar followed you!

He DMed you starting with "Hello Y/N!” You follow him back and respond to him with a hi he immediately responds to you and a wave of texts and messages starts you had fun with Neymar he made you laugh he even asked if you can call him and yes you did you two talked for hours flies you look at the time it was 5 am! You have been talking to Neymar for 4 hours almost 5 hours! You tell Neymar that you have to sleep and you will call him once you wake up

Once you woke up you stretched your arms and got up you text ney A̶ good morning text he didn’t answer at first but you left your phone on your bed and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and comb your hair once you finally finished you go to bed to see if ney responded he did! He responded with a good morning you two kept talking and texting for hours...

Hours turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to years at this point you really caught feelings for him you two met more than once and hanged out it was amazing you and Neymar had an upcoming event and for the sake of destiny you both were invited to that event

THE DAY OF THE EVENT

You quickly got ready and there is already a damn group of people in the same room 4 doing your hair 3 doing your makeup and 4 doing your nails and toenails it was so messy like literally, that event was so important to you because you will meet so many famous people footballers and more after you finished you quickly wear your heels because you were running late

Once you got in the limo you sighed you opened your phone camera to see how you look like you look so stunning and breath taking you make sure how you look like you immediately text Neymar telling him you’re going to a "makeup event" and how nervous you are.Ney sends a voicemail with the lines of “Ayy it’s alright Y/N just take deep breaths you will be okay I promise” Neymar words kinda did calm you down. “Ms Y/N we have reached your destination.” The diver say’s immediately one of your security opens the door for you once you got out you see cameras flash before your eyes and you can hear the crowd screaming your name and you hear alot of wows and many more

You stood and smiled at the paparazzi as they took photos of you. You quickly move inside to the red carpet and you see a tall man standing and smiling at the camera you hear someone yells "KYLIAN MBAPPE!!!” So that’s his name huh... you turn to look at him he was already looking he start talking to you and mbappe made you laugh and blush.

You can feel someone glaring hard at you and mbappe. You look at mbappe and he’s looking at you with the same feeling you two started moving and then you see from the distance NEYMAR JR?? You didn’t expect him he starts moving towards you and mbappe. Kylian only noticed him when he started walking towards you and him he quickly said goodbye and left. Neymar with a mad smile grabs you by the hand and takes you to one of the hidden corners. The Brazilian corners you as his hand made its way to your waist you can feel the shivers down your spine you can see how incensed his muscles and shoulders are. You put your hand on top of his hand rubbing your thumb against his hand he takes his hand yours as he looks at you dead in the eye “Ney..?” You look at him as if you’re the prey and he is the hunter "Y/N don’t you ever come near that man ever again.” He says with an angry voice his hand on the wall against you. You can feel the redness on your face The Brazilian would take his other free hand as he put his fingers down your chin and his thump above you can feel yourself drifting away and snap out of it Y/N! You caught yourself but it was already too late you find yourself with your hands wrapped against Neymar's neck the man's hands were warm.. they were wrapped around your waist tight “Y/N I fear other men would take you away from me..” the man would sigh in a shaken voice "Neymar jr…" you look at him and he can’t even bring himself to look at you in the eyes “look at me silly..”

The man would look at you “Nobody will ever take me away from you because..” you look at him with a small grin “because..?” The Brazilian looks at you. You gently would lean towards him as you pressed your lips against his.. you caught him off guard but slowly he would kiss you back you’d pull back “Y/N…” Neymar would look at you holding a smile "Because I am yours Neymar jr and only yours..” you say Neymar would pull you back for another kiss but this one was more  passionate.. and lustful.. the man would pull back once again “you like that don’t you?” You nod desperately you were leaning against him to kiss but he pulled back “Nah uh... Beg.” Ney would smirk knowingly at what he’s doing “please Neymar…” you beg desperately"Good girl.” The man would kiss you.

(I will post the next part tomorrow anyways goodnight!l



[liverpool-enjoyer]

footballers as pokemon types

OOOOH THIS IS PERFECT FOR MY POKEMON LOVING ASS. requested by @imjusthereforideasagain !! thank you sm for requesting <3

leo: psychic and normal type!! not implying its the reason for his skills, rather the way he hyperfixates on football reminds me a some psychic types. mans is using calm mind 24/7. also normal type, cause i feel like he rlly is Some Guy. hes OBJECTIVELY the goat n has more God given talent in a strand of hair than i do in my entire body, but hes also a dude you bump into at publix while in line for a pub sub.

ney: electric type!!! now if you play/watch pokemon you know pretty much everyone who trains a certain type kinda has a similar personality. ney definitely gives electric type. hes always "!!!" what can i say his personality is jus,,, electric ;))

jordan: hendos a fire type!! as captain he has to inspire his team n be their guiding light in a way,,, n also use will o wisp to burn em when they get outta hand.

virgil: ice and steel type!!! ice cause hes as calm (and cool) as you like. however ice is literally the WORST type in the game defensively, n that aint virgil at all. hes the goat of defenders, an abolute wall. a STEEL wall you could say. like literally there are eighteen types in the game n steel resists ELEVEN of em. i realize this leaves him quad weak to fighting n fire but IGNORE THAT.

luis: the mans a dark type. i love this lil blorbo but the man can play DIRTY. n the dark type is all abt using underhanded tactics to win (its actually called the evil type in the original translation lmao), with literally every move having some secondary effect. and how can i forget: bite is a dark type move (for some reason).

andy: a water type!!! like water takes the shape of its container, man can ADAPT. waters also the most abundant type in the game and has been paired with literally every other type. jus like how andy is friends w every one of his teammates!!

trent: grass type!! now what does trent do (well,,, besides defend). he ASSISTS. he DELIVERS. grass is an AMAZING supportive type, w moves like stun spore, grassy terrain, n how could i forget LEECH SEED??? not to mention cotton guard which literally raises your defense by THREE stages instead a two which is more than any other defense boosting move in the game.

sergio: he is a fighting type. what,,, what more do you want me to say. jus ask mo salah (sorry luv). hes kinda like if you skill swapped gallade to give it the contraty ability n used close combat, where instead of a defense DROP it jus,,, gets better every time.

milly: a rock type!!! hes become quite formidable over the years, n this is way overthinking but it could also parallel how rock type gym leaders tend to be the first you face in the game as theyre meant to show new trainers the ropes, jus like how milly does w the younger players of lfc!! also PLS gimme credit for holding back n not going w the "milly is boring" joke n making him a normal type. cause i did think abt it.

klopp: ok papas a GHOST TYPE. fun fact this is my favorite type in the game n the best in my opinion. anyway. klopp is so intelligent he feels like an old soul, passing on old ass wisdom. he works subtly, like how gengar sneaks around in the shadows before you actually see it. this MIIIIIGHT be (most definitely is) based off @liverpoolfanfiction 's AMAZING supernatural au now that i think abt it.

alisson: a fairy n steel type!!! he is jus,,, THE sweetest, how could i not slap the fairy typing on him. hes the kinda guy who knows his friends are upset based on lil tiny cues, like how the hatterene line detects strong emotions. n hes a steel type for the same reason virgil is. the most defensive type in the game!! resists more than half the fuckin types!! no ones getting through our keeper!!!

[neyxmessi]

Love your thoughts on neymessi relationship and I would love to know more on Neymar side ( I think he can be subtle in a different way ) but anyways the more you can say the better lol

Neymar has literally been infatuated with Leo since forever. I think the tweets back in 2011 capture that really well lol 😭😭 (what a fanboy).

But even when he encountered Leo for the first time in 2010x idk there was a certain look in his eyes. Amazement. Adoration. Idolization. And then even more clearly during that Santos game. He was literally just staring in awe of him as they gave him the Golden Ball and Xavi was trying to push Ney along the stage LOLLLL.

As with Leo, I feel like every subtlety with Neymar is in the eyes. I mean of course, it’s impossible to not see Neymar’s beaming smile whenever he’s around Leo. But it’s really the eyes you need to look at when he’s just around him. Idk the look of love is hard describe. It’s something you just see. And literally it’s always in Neymar’s eyes when Leo is around. I have two vivid memories in my head where Neymar was simply just staring at Leo when he wasn’t looking and he just had that look (until he’d quickly look away when Leo turned back to him LMAO).

There’s also something so special about Leo to Ney. Idk I’ve never heard anyone speak about Leo the way Neymar has about him. His eyes light up whenever someone mentions Leo’s name (literally in the 2019 interview where he cried about Leo his eyebrows slightly raised at the mention of his name. Ohhhh the heartbreak).

In Neymar’s farewell Barcelona post, HE LITERALLY SINGLED OUT LEO. he like solemnly sighed when he said “Leo Messi” and then proceeded to list all the qualities about Leo he would miss when he left. Like he really broke my heart with that. He mentioned Suarez too, but not for nearly as long and idk a different sentiment behind it. You’ll have to watch to discern it lol.

I mean other subtleties would include rare clips during free kicks where Neymar will lightly tap on Leo’s leg before he goes to shoot. Or there have been countless times where Neymar will try and give Leo a comforting high five or something after he’d miss a goal or something. Like agh they make me go insane for real. EL DIA DE DESPUES I MISS YOU FOR THOSE BTS MOMENTS 💔💔 psg “inside” is nothing in comparison.

After goals, especially like back then (14/15 era was peak neymessi) he would always look to Leo after he scored a goal, and would always try to have a special celebration between both of them. There are also several instances where teammates congratulate him and he doesn’t smile until Leo shows up, or he pushes people out of the way just so he can hug Leo. (<— once again kinda obvious but also not?? Idk different moments you really need to pay attention to see the differences lol. Luckily I’m a crazy psychoanalyst who over-observes every interaction they have).

Also Neymar always looks over to see if he’s made Leo laugh. Even in the training session today. Like when he made a joke or something he immediately looked over to Leo to see if he was laughing too. LIKE NEYMARRRRR YOURE KILLING ME.

Omg I’m rambling sm but literally this is my whole neymessi brain pouring out lol.

Also I have so many other videos/photos I still have to post of these subtle moments. Maybe I’ll over-explain my vision when I post them to really point out the subtleties to you guys. Idk. Once again sorry I sound lowkey crazy rn.

Anyways this literally isn’t even everything (but it’s a LOT. Sorry if it’s hard to follow. Once again I’m literally just typing all the thoughts that come to my head and there is no looking over this lol. Apologizes for any coherency problems <333)

[sunofmoon]

top 5 favourite footballers? :)

uhhh u don't have an easier question anon? 😭😭😭 i am a very indecisive person, i mean my top 1 and 2 is something that will probably never change, but definitely someone will be left out and my conscience will weigh but come on:

1. leo messi

duh, this is a bit obvious, right?? i am madly, unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. and this is not only bc of the player he is (in my humble opinion, above Leo only Pelé), but for the kind, humble, wonderful human being that he is. "I'd rather be a good person than the best in the world", this tells me a lot about his values and is one of the thousand reasons why i admire him sm.

2. neymar jr

first of all, i have to say that i have a love-hate relationship with this idiot. there are days that he makes me want to tear my hair out or just kick his skinny ass bc of some situations (or bc of your endless stupidity), but he's my boy. ney's soccer is beautiful since always, the way he plays the ball made me fall in love with this sport that stresses me sm, he has something different, you know? he literally stands out when he is on the field, so it is impossible not to like what he does with a ball at his feet. BESIDES THAT HE IS BRAZILIAN AND SO AM I 🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷

3. vini jr.

you probably won't see me talking sm about him here on the blog (a mistake i must urgently correct), except that i love VINI VERY MUCH. i particularly don't like rm, but please look at what a great player he is. vini deserves to be recognized for the great work he does, he deserves the whole world if you ask me!!!!!! ah, and my love is also brazilian 🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷

4. thiago silva

one more brazilian? YESSSSSSS!!!!! i confess that i haven't followed him much lately (i don't know what happens but i can never watch a chelsea game), however i have seen enough of him in the nt to say how much i think he is an amazing defender and how much i love watching him play. it hurts my heart to know that thiago didn't get a wc, in my opinion he rlly deserved it.

5. kylian mbappé

my relationship with kyky is also a bit complicated and i can't explain why, but i like watching him play and i like how decisive he is. he is a player that brings me many different emotions, but at the moment i find myself a little in love with him.

i have many other players i like anon, most of them are brazilian but i love them ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[kithtaehyung]

NEI R U KIDDINGGGG thank you so much for taking the time to read and share your thoughts on this piece! it means the world arghhhh more response under the cut!

I literally just woke up and decided to read this like the morning newspaper and DAMN it didn’t DISAPPOINT.

I felt like i was reading and visualizing an ENTIRE action movie (very much thinking of 90s Hong Kong Cinema films) with the way everything was described throughout those fights and escape scenes. I wish I could show you the visual movie that my brain created reading this.

LETS GOOO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WKR?? come on i am crying just knowing you thought of it like that wow... that's fucking amazing! i wish you could show the visual movie, too, the heck? it sounds like a damn good one.

Also the DIALOGUE! Yoongi/Agust is a man of a few words, but his small and smug actions speaks THOUSANDS of words. And you got that nailed DOWN! 

ugh i love this version of yoongi because he doesn't even need to say much to let us know what he wants. or thinks. or doesn't want? lmao

I love that you’re turning this into an actual series, because I see so much potential in how you will work towards building their relationship (we can see she does not “trust” AGUST but he definitely has a soft spot for her whether he admits it or not) as well as how you develop his character in your take of the “Haegeum” base universe.

it was a hard decision to make into a series (because what am i supposed to do with all these limes????) but i think it was the right choice in the end. this way, we get a whole universe to work with and lots of slow burn. we love slow burn in this house!! these two are gonna be quite the interesting pair to write, as well.

I didn’t expect the kiss to happen so sudden and it was enough to leave me craving for MORE. WHO is this man known as AGUST and what power does he really have? We will find out in the future. 

EHEHE the kiss came out of nowhere to all of us including reader! too bad it was only a distraction........ and who the hell is this guy anyway? what millions of secrets is he not telling us? we sure will find out in due time!

(P.S. I loved how reader is basically ATLA cabbage man but with tangerines instead)

YOU GET ME HAHAHA this poor girl is just trying to sell her fruit in peace!!! thank you so much for all this, nei. i thoroughly enjoyed the commentary :DD

minted (explicit) | myg

title: minted (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , suspense , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: again, this wasn't on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: this series may not be for everyone, language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, tension, slow burn, choking, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, slight e2l, fight sequences, multiple future explicit scenes, yoongi deserves his own warning, chains but who is ever ever shocked, graphic depictions of violence drop date: august 5th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.4k aiyaaa✌ mood playlist: here

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Ever since you could remember, gang activity in your town has run unchecked. 

Anything goes. Rough fights out of nowhere, car chases busting streets, or even random delinquents snatching food on the run, dust kicking up onto stock they left behind. 

And out of all the districts, yours is begrudgingly the second worst. 

Why? You still aren’t completely sure. But you do know that the darkest is reserved for the underbelly that only slithers in rumors. A place in which you will never find yourself. 

But you do wonder what must happen there to warrant the winning title because each day here is a battle to keep yourself afloat. 

All you do is sell fruit. Why are you fighting for your life every week? Why can’t you exchange goods for money in peace? If you could compare it to the movies you grew up watching on an outdated television, it’s a grungy reflection of the wild west.

But through all the shit you’ve chosen to endure, at least one person is always kind enough to buy his wares and go.

And today is no different.

You still don’t know his name. But you yearn to. Because his hair is the color of magic and rebellion, and his tattoos really set off that bright mop of locks. 

If those lethal, piercing eyes weren’t enough.

When he lifts three long digits, it takes all your strength to nod and get his purchase together. This is the part that never changes, either.

Just like always. One, three, or five fingers for tangerines. Never two, never four, and never any other fruits. 

It’s charming, in a way. As if he’s more particular than most about what he wants—a trait elusive to many.

Like clockwork, you would hand his order over in thin plastic, and he would walk away to hitch a ride on a passing cart. Just like he does right now with a lazy gait, white tee billowing from his jeans. 

Another day. Another exchange.

In the wavy heat of summer, you sigh. Wondering if anything is ever going to change, and if you would ever get to know more about your most frequent, most mysterious patron.

After a while, you do try talking to him. 

Those looks of confusion slowly turn into little hums or grunts, then into single words that keep you going for days. Even though you rarely hear it, his voice is just as attractive as he is. 

One day, you offer him a plantain, handing it over and telling him it’s on the house. 

“Thanks,” he says amongst the clinks and conversations of the street, pocketing the food away. 

When he does, you see a flash of black metal, and you already know what he’s carrying. You’re used to seeing all sorts of those around nowadays. In this district, you’d be shocked if he didn’t have an arsenal on his person while traveling through.

Besides. Even you have a couple collecting dust in your own flat, handed down by extended family but never used.

“If you ever need anything other than tangerines,” you start with a point to his pants, “Please buy those instead.” 

He’s unmoving. Blinks are all you get so you have no choice but to explain,

“I’m so tired of eating them with everything.” 

When he huffs in amusement, your heart flutters thrice. There’s no reason for a sheen of sweat and sticky mint locks to be so deadly. 

“Then eat something else,” is all the stranger advises before walking off. 

Well.

Even though you don’t have much of a choice, the guy does have a point. You wouldn’t be shocked in the slightest if his aim’s just as straightforward as his wit.

Once one exchange lasts longer than a sentence, the two of you start little conversations during his visits. Which prove more fatal than normal since he’d rest his tattoos on the top shelf of your cart. 

From what you can make out, there are creatures stretching in beautiful teal and vivid orange, and even striking white on his other arm. They ripple so well with his veins, a canvas that sways and hypnotizes with every drum of his fingers. 

You know what they symbolize, though it’s unique to have all of them together. 

Taboo, even. 

But you can’t hold back your admiration because of the sheer beauty. What would they feel like if you just… 

“You always stare this long?”

Shit. “Oh, sorry. I just… I rarely see anyone’s ink up close.”

To your dismay, he takes his arm back. “I don’t have a lot of time today, princess.”

“Right, sorry. Hold on,” you respond, cringing hard at blurting two apologies in a ten second span. 

Meanwhile, your way too handsome regular cocks a brow, clearly comfortable making you squirm as you hand over his bag. 

Effortless. In your chaotic life, It’s almost intoxicating feeling someone this resolute in their whole demeanor. If only you could be so commanding and assured one day. 

But here you stand instead, pretending to count fruit you one hundred percent know the stock of already. “Your art is really nice, by the way,” you admit to your inventory. “All the high-powers. I like what you picked.”

“Didn’t choose these.”

Ah. Way to assume things. 

Raising your head, you make to apologize a third time.

But he’s already retreating with his tangerines, hand stuffed in a pocket and beautiful waves a little less vibrant than you recall. 

“What.” 

“I worry sometimes.” 

His gaze lifts. “About me?” 

“Yeah.” 

You don’t know why you choose to say that of all things. But it’s honest. You always wonder about him and think about the weapon in his jeans. Does he use it? Does he ever need to? 

Maybe you should pick up a hobby or two.

Fingers resting dangerously close, he asks with a tilt of his head, “What would you do, doll? If something happened to someone like me.” 

Someone like him? What does that mean? 

Great. Now you have even more to wonder about, as if he knew that was your exact predicament.

You stare, roaming along his arms before meeting his eyes—almost. “Find someone else to buy my tangerines.” 

Huffing, his brows tick up with his mouth. “I respect that.” His attention doesn’t leave your face as he slowly takes his purchase. “See ya.” 

“Bye,” you whisper back, watching him go. More thoughts and concerns bouncing around your mind in the sticky heat of midday. 

These little nicknames he’s using also aren’t helping your issue in the slightest. 

It starts when you hear shouting from a block down.

“Here they come!”

“Bunch of idiots this time.”

“What do you mean this time?”

Rough raiders this early? They should know it’s almost time for Dragon’s sweep. Bold.

After you hear the telltale yells, clanks, and bangs, your section of the street braces for impact. 

And it swoops in like a whirlwind, ruffians tearing through, pillaging and stealing and swiping goods into thick woven baskets. 

Baskets? The usual suspects always carry leather bags. You assume because of their sturdiness and inconspicuous nature, but what do you really know.

Here it goes again. 

As your fruit is taken right from your cart, you sink to your toes, mourning the regular loss of your menu.

No use fighting. Like every other time, you all let it happen because there’s no point in trying to protect anything that isn’t valuable. Perishables and small homemade goods aren’t worth getting gutted over. Truly, the worst losses you suffer are when—

Your cart shifts violently before thieves topple it over, cracking one of your wheels and splitting the wooden boards in three places.

Springing to your feet, you douse the perpetrators in anger, “What the hell!”

“Oh, this was yours?” Someone chides while his cronies run past. “Thanks for the oranges, love!”

“They’re tangerines!” you correct at his retreating back, kicking your cart before yelping at your bad decision. “Damn it…”

Back to your knees you go. Head drooping, arms encircling, and disappointment pooling around like a shadow.

More shouts and feet in the road rampage through. Then it gets quieter. And quieter. 

Then it’s done.

After silence swells in the wake of chaos, groans start making their way down the street. 

“What’d they get from you this time,” you ask your neighbor, a charming old man selling anything from bowls to wide, round frying pans. 

Looking over his little wreckage, he blinks hard. “They got my woks. Nothing as bad as yours. You okay?” 

Walking over to help clean his mess up first, you bend down with a sigh, “I’ll be alright. But it still sucks.. My poor tangerines..” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Not much to do about it now,” you resign, all your energy taken from you, too. 

A little bit of time passes as you complete your usual round of help, though this raid was worse than others. As they all give their thanks, you keep thinking about how to make the whole situation better. Moreso for them than you because you’ve always been one of the least vulnerable ones on the block.

“You should find another place to sell, dear.” 

In disagreement, you slip into a saddened smile. “I can’t leave you guys,” you explain to the lady you’re holding pails for. “Who will help clean everything up?” 

“Don’t underestimate your elders now.” 

“Fair,” you respond through a chuckle, handing her one of the metal buckets. “If only better protection was an option around here.”

“You know the rules,” another shop owner drones through lingering spices, “Dragon won’t protect us if it isn’t in their own interests.” 

Unfortunately, he’s right. Every single raid that hasn’t coincided with a gang sweep goes overlooked. Even the city police don't bother coming down your street anymore, which is another issue in itself.

If only Tiger or Crane had been the high-powers in place instead. 

At least they seem to be more fair.

After you finish helping, you finally venture back to your own cart, realizing that the trek is a lot further than you thought. 

Did you really walk so far this time? The damage was dealt for much more than a block at this point. 

Not like you need to sprint back, though. What’s left to steal? Everything you got swept into those woven containers.

Still so odd…

But not as odd as the sight that greets you on your return. 

Because instead of seeing your wreckage of a cart tilted and abysmal, it’s upright and being mended.

By none other than your favorite set of hands.  

What the hell? What’s he doing here? You quite literally have nothing to give so there’s no reason for him to spare a second at your broken stand. 

Fast-walking, you hastily try to halt his help, “Oh, shit, you don’t have to—” 

“Course I don’t.” 

That shuts you up. In your split second of silence, you note with agony that his hair is messily tied in a minted bun. Are his sleeves bunched at his biceps, too? Great. What were you even telling him again? 

Ah, yes. You were telling this mystery of a man that he doesn’t have to literally put your stand back together. “Seriously, I got it.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” 

“But it’s my cart, I don’t need your—”

With one look over his shoulder, your mouth snaps shut. And suddenly can’t move to argue again. 

What the hell is up with today? 

Forget all that. What’s he doing? At least you’re familiar with all the shop owners and vendors on your block, though you can’t say you wouldn’t do the same thing for someone you don’t know. But this guy has always been so standoffish and barely approachable. So how is he lending both hands to help you right now? 

Whatever. If he’s gonna be as stubborn as this heat, you can be, too. 

Scanning the area for scattered tools, you find a sun-warmed hammer and get to work, fixing one end of the cart while he works on the other. When you feel his gaze on your working shoulder, it takes massive strength to ignore him—even if you wanna know what his issue is and why he smells really, really good this afternoon.

Looks like you need more nails for this board to fit. When your eyes find a couple on the ground, you clinch a second piece between your teeth while hammering in the first. 

Sounds stop at your side, but you wait until you pluck the metal nail from your mouth and stamp it in to look over.

Oh. He’s eyeing the hammer. Not you. Obviously. 

You wordlessly hand it over, arm slicked with exertion. Because after the day you’ve had, you don’t feel like everything needs a spoken sentence attached. 

It takes the guy a bit to take it from you, but when he does, he holds your stare. “Thanks.” 

You simply nod, eyes sticking to him as he works on the tattier side wait it looks almost new. Better than it has in a very long time. Did he really get that much done in the time you were gone? There’s been great care taken during his repair if that’s the case.  

Hmm. You finally learn something about your favorite customer. Maybe he’s just been a mechanic or carpenter this whole time? 

Contemplative, you get up on sore legs to walk to your cooler—something thankfully missed by the rough raiders. Digging through the clinkage, you retrieve a local beer you recently procured from the restaurant across the street. 

It’s not much. Absolute bottom shelf. But it’s all you got other than a few pieces of oni-coin, so he’s gonna have to deal with it.

When you offer the glass, your regular eyes it for a moment. More than enough time for you to get a good look at his striking floral top.

Well. Mechanic and carpenter are out of the question because that one piece of clothing looks more expensive than your entire apartment building.

Who even is this guy? Now you feel destitute handing him something so cheap.

Just when you think he’s gonna refuse, he takes the beer and smoothly shucks it open, suddenly making you wonder how a bracelet can do that and why it was so attractive.

God. You need to walk straight to the nearest inlet stream and dunk your head right in.

“Thank you,” you whisper, gulping at his full swigs. “You really didn’t have to do all this.” 

“Got some time to kill,” he shrugs. Standing, the man takes another sip, peering along the street with sunlit eyes. With the bottle near his mouth, he murmurs, “You really need to set up somewhere else, doll. This street’s turning into a hot spot.” 

Squinting up at the long lines of clothes and curtains floating in the breeze, you sigh at the building nearest. “I live close,” you sulk. “And this is the easiest place to get to.” 

Those are excuses. Just tell him the real reason you won’t venture out and plop yourself somewhere more profitable. Well, maybe not all of the reasons, but the main one. 

Leaning back on your cart, you stare at the loose dirt, swiping some with your shoes. “Maybe I’m just used to it at this point.” 

He won’t respond. Or he’ll respond in his own way, which is mostly silence. 

But a bright strand falls over his face before he hums, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Many people have warned you at this point. It’s basically your stubborn and spiteful nature that’s making you stay in the first place. Why would you move when you chose to be here? Why leave a place you actively choose to call home? 

Fighting spirit quelled, you nod right to your stand as you count what’s salvageable. “I know, but I like it here.” When he lifts an unbelieving brow, you look away. “It’s true. But trust me, if there was a way to just make it all stop, I’d take it.” 

He takes another swig, both of you looking into the street and watching things slowly get back to normal pace. Adults and kids alike are back to wandering around, buying what’s left and offering condolences. 

“I’m not fixing another cart,” your patron turned repairman grunts, motioning to your wheel as he steps back. “So don’t fuck this one up.” 

Huh? It wasn’t your fault! All the accidents and chaos that blow through aren’t something you can control oh he’s grinning. Why is he grinning? Why do you feel hot all over? 

His teeth shine in daylight. “I’m messing with you.” 

Ah. 

This version of him is not good for you at all.

When he starts to walk away, you blurt out a quick, “Wait!” 

Shit! Why did you do that? What are you possibly supposed to say right now? All you wanted was to see him a little longer… And while staring at his backside would be more than enough, you kinda wanted to actually talk. 

What do you do? He stopped; he’s waiting. 

And he looks impatient as hell. 

Snapping into action, you round your cart and trot over, offering your name as if you didn’t just give up where you lived. 

Then—without thinking—you ask for his with the most curious, innocent, “What’s yours?” 

Silence has never been so booming.

In the dusty swirls of your street, you wait with a back that’s getting sweatier and colder with each passing second. 

Was that not okay to ask? Did you fuck up with a single question? 

Perfect. You just blew your one good thing about being out here. Wincing, you crush your words so hard you think your teeth will break into dust, drifting off into the very breeze wafting his striking locks. 

After a condescending puff, he only smirks.

Then he takes one step. And another. And another.

The air around you melts, weighing on your shoulders while lighting them aflame all at once. It’s a feeling you can’t describe to anyone else, because they would just need to stand next to this man to believe it. 

Checking to see if the street is clear, your best customer leans over. Slowly. Purposefully. “Yoongi,” he offers with a voice so handsome you’ll think about it for days. “But don’t fucking tell anyone.” 

Oh. 

Why did… you kinda like that? 

Blinking, you swallow. “I won’t.” 

This is when he’s supposed to just leave. He’d walk away, bag swinging with his strides. But ever keeping you on your sore toes, the man just chuckles low before rasping out the most devilish sentence in existence, 

“Always took you for a good girl.”

Then he backs away, turning on his heel and leaving you a statue in the street.

Yoongi. 

For a hardened soul, his name is so… 

Tender. 

For the next sixty days, you don’t get ransacked once. 

But there’s also been no sight of Yoongi. 

As the weeks trudge by, you can’t decide which outcome is worse.

The skies are magnificent today. But obviously at a molten price.

“Thank you for trying,” you say to a lovely wares owner before venturing back out into simmering streets. Exhaling, you wipe sweat from your brow, squinting before choosing to walk left or right. 

Left seems promising. 

You’ve been searching for hours now, perusing through shops, checking out vendors both nice and catty. But after a whole day’s search, you still haven’t found what you’re looking for. 

It’s nothing urgent or pressing. But you would at least like to be prepared. 

Since your initial mission is a bust, hopefully your next one makes up for it before you melt right into gravel and dirt.

Find a meal.

Walking along the busy roads, you pass a few options and keep them in mind, making sure to greet a fellow tangerine cart vendor with a smile. Hopefully they do well today.

A couple steps further, a giant cooler catches your eye. Seafood of all types lie inside along cubes of ice, and you weigh the pros and cons of smelling like fish just to have a cool head.

But before you can make any choices, the smell of spices and hearty soup softly pull your feet inside the restaurant nearby. 

What’s here? Noodles? You’re always down for that. Apparently even in scorching weather.

After ordering, you take your seat at a random middle table in a chair facing the entrance. 

Always facing the entrance.

Damn. You really need to accomplish what you set out to do. But sunset is fast approaching these days, and you aren’t anywhere close to home. All you have time for now is eating and heading out. 

The service here is quick, at least. You’re already thanking the owner for sliding a bowl in front of your sweaty form. 

With a head full of thoughts, you stare into nothing, stirring your noodles and waiting for the heat to die down. 

Maybe you should’ve just walked a shorter distance and checked the shops you originally wanted to browse. If things went to plan, you could’ve been back by now, freshly showered and curling up on a worn down bed. 

But instead, your feet are sore, your head is anything but washed, and you have to trek home empty-handed—on the first day off you’ve had in months. 

Defeated, you sigh, going back to your bowl and watching sliced vegetables swirl in aromatic broth. 

At least the food in this area seems good. And the fading decor really adds to the… 

Ambiance. 

Wait. 

Dragons. A lot of them. 

You can’t pull your eyes away from the crew walking in, bringing heat from the sweltering sun in their eyes and donning their telltale, striking teal. 

But you can only kid yourself for so long because the one that truly has your gaze tethered is the man in front. The one you haven’t seen in weeks. The one looking right back at you with a visage so shadowed you feel like moving tables to let him pass. 

…Yoongi? 

His jacket. The colors.

He’s in Dragon?

Suddenly his hair makes terrifying sense.

As his guys stalk through, you swallow hard, not expecting to see him and having no earthly idea what to do with this harrowing information. There are so many thoughts overlapping each other that they all amalgamate into one huge batch of sludge. 

Aren’t you smack dab in Crane territory? There’ve been white suits peppering the streets everywhere. 

So what the hell is Dragon doing here?

From the slight confusion pinching his forehead, you know Yoongi didn’t expect to see you, either. Which makes it even weirder when he slowly takes your chopsticks right from your fingers. 

Hold on, what—

“What are you—”

A lone, long digit over lips is the only response you get, silencing you immediately before you whip your head around to watch him rush past. 

All of them waste no time tearing up the stairs, a myriad of blues blending with gritty paint and smoke. 

And just like that, your reunion is over. 

Home. You need to go home. Leave, leave, leave, because something is bound to be going down upstai—

A thud faintly shoots out into the staircase, and you spin around again in your chair, eyes snapping to the ceiling. 

Shit. 

Even though you’re on high alert, you realize with a quick sweep that no one else is noticing. Or moving. Or even paying attention to anything else but their own company. 

Does no one else care about the commotion? Do hits happen in this area that often? 

Mind running, you can’t decide what to do. Because even though Yoongi’s guys have plenty of weapons, he clearly had nothing since he needed to borrow your damn eating utensils.

Another crash rains dust on conversations around your shoulders, causing you to look up one last time. 

Go home, go home, go home. In what universe would Yoongi himself ever need your help here? 

With one more look at your noodles, you curl your lips before biting a side. 

Already yelling at yourself for choosing to book it towards the back staircase. 

Shit shit shit this is so stupid. This is probably the worst decision you’re gonna make in your life.

But your gut is churning thinking about Yoongi. Even a seasoned swordsman needs expertise to wield mere chopsticks and win. 

Fuck, if you succeeded in your search today, you probably could’ve been a little more useful. 

Swiping your own set of red from a nearby cup, you hightail it up, slowing as you round a corner and immediately hear multiple clangs and scuffles beyond the last turn.

Stop. You can go back. You can still turn around and go home.

An inhale.

Your feet propel you up and into a dark hall. As you slowly slide along the wall, your gut churns and churns. At a bang, you crouch with a skipped beat of your heart.

This is really, really dumb. But you can’t stop yourself and you have no clue why.

Nothing happens around you. So you keep going. With each careful slide of your foot, you get closer and closer to the noise.

Approaching the corner, you very slowly stick your head out for a peek.

And it’s pure commotion. Pure chaos. Holy shit, what is going on? 

Fuck, there’s already a body lying limp on the floor meters away—

Your chopsticks. You wanna hurl.

But a man flies out of a room ahead before he grips and wrestles with another, and you reel yourself back to avoid being seen by either one.

Where is Yoongi? Is he okay? Did he leave already?

You give one more peek, scanning the long raucous corridor as swift as you can to see any sign of.. Mint.

He’s still here. How’s he just walking so nonchalant as his crew fucks shit up? Crap, he just went into a room and out of sight. 

“Where’d they go?”

“Upstairs!”

Fuck, that was in the restaurant! Get up get up you have no choice but to hide now. 

With pounding steps, you rush forward and book it, entering a large room to dive behind some steel shelving and large, woven baskets right as more Dragons come in behind with fists clenched.

Breathe. Steady. Calm the fuck down.

The grunts rush to the hallway to join the fray, and you wait in the now pungent solitude of your room. With only a still body to accompany you. 

What do you do? What even can you do? 

Just as nerves grip your stomach like a vice, Yoongi strides into the open area, heading right for the exit and not even sparing his kill a glance. 

Go. Go now. Why can’t you move? Why aren’t your hands letting go of your cold confinement? It smells like death and blood and you need to leave with the only person you know—or don’t—so why can’t your feet just fucking—

Someone else slithers into the room. A man in brown with a knife. A knife, a knife, a knife he’s getting faster and Yoongi doesn’t hear him the guy is too quiet fuck! “Yoongi!” 

It all happens before your brain can paint the bloody picture. Shooting out from your hiding spot, you race towards the assassin, slamming into their lanky build just in time.  

Both of you topple to the ground, your target roaring in pain and twisting like hell to fight back fuck you didn’t get him how you needed to he’s got you—

Pain erupts in your hip as you’re grabbed, the room spinning as you’re thrown to the side and your ear hitting concrete right before chopsticks ping down. Thinking quick, you knee the guy as hard as you can, scrambling to finish the job because if you don’t, you’re gone gone gone.

“Bitch!” Your opponent clutches your shirt right as you reach for the nearest red pair, seizing your throat right as you grip and swing them around to stab the other side of his neck with a yell.

Luckiest timing of your life. 

“Hng!” Fuck, he’s still holding down hard and choking, choking, squeezing. “Fuck you!” 

Fight back. Keep the weapon inside he’s too strong finish him finish him. 

Darkness. Ink drops in water. Your vision taints as your grip loosens, and you can only hope that Yoongi got away safe. He had to. At least you… Were able to do… 

This one thing… 

…

Oxygen and life rush back into your lungs, color burning through your esophagus as you gasp for sweet sweet air. Right as you come to, all you witness is the heavy heel of a boot twisting the forearm latched onto you. 

And when the shoe leaves your vision. Lifeless eyes stare back.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck that was close. Oh god. You actually did it. Oh fuck. 

Coughing, you rush up as you get tugged and pulled right against chains and embroidery, your ears ringing with a gravelly command and glass breaking in the nearby corridor,

“Don’t say my fuckin’ name so loud.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Yoongi roughly lets you go before pinning you with pure anger. Not to say thank you. Not to tell you any words of gratitude at all. The only other thing he finds the need to say is simply, 

“You shouldn’t be up here.” 

What the fuck. You just murdered someone for him and this is all you get? Eyes welling, you feel your body slick and sticky with crimson when you turn, coughing and spitting out regret before you wheeze, wheeze, wheeze, “That’s—that’s all you have to say?” 

Dread swirls around your stomach like poison.

But the sternness from before completely vanishes as Yoongi lifts your chin. His eyes scan your throat and chest, and you rip your head away from his touch because he is not excused just yet. 

“It’s not mine,” you snap, knowing exactly what he’s looking for and what you must look like to him. Dirty. Gross. Certainly a far image from the girl selling tangerines.

But your face is gently held again, and somehow this softer turn carries more strength to swivel you forward. 

Why is Yoongi still looking? Now he’s holding your gaze as if he’s never seen you before. What’s that about? You’re still the same, the same, the same.

…Are you?

More crashes and shots are heard down the hall, and Yoongi snaps his head up in an instant. 

God, you smell. You reek. Your nose is tainted and your hands even more so. There’s no way he’s gonna have anything to do with you now. 

But you get the shock of the century when the man commands you to come along. “Let’s go.” 

Absolutely not. This is all you got in you for a lifetime. “What? No, no, no. No way, I’m going home.”

“And they’ll follow you the whole way back.” 

“I—I didn’t mean to—” 

Shots ring out before grunts barrel out into the short hallway. All of them piling out from crevasses and hidden passages. 

You give one more look at the two men now crumpled on the ground, bile rising up and threatening to spill. 

“Tough shit, princess. You did, now live with it.” 

Live with it. How poetic. 

You were protecting him. You did what you had to do. But you have blood on your hands again and now Yoongi will see you as something else besides a fucking street vendor. 

“Are you coming or not?”

You’re gonna puke your guts out.

With a stilted cry, you bend to snatch your weapons up yet again—gagging at the squelches and much deeper red—before following Yoongi’s long steps. 

Your hands. They’re shaking so bad you can’t even pocket the chopsticks properly. But you finally get them down, crushing your palms and squeezing just to stop them from rattling. 

When you wait behind Yoongi checking the corner, you turn around to make sure you aren’t being followed. And seeing the hallway still a moving mass of broken glass and hard swings, you think you’re safe. 

The stairs feel so different on the way down. Is that because you feel completely changed? There’s no coming back from this. Another side of you died right alongside those two people upstairs. 

No time to think about that. You have to follow his lead. And he’s slowing down why is he slowing down? 

Oh. Normal. Be normal to not garner suspicion. You have to do the same. 

Wait. You can’t go down there with a shirt full of stained evidence! Grabbing him and pulling back, you whisper, “Yoongi—”

His growl is so fierce your head spins, “What the fuck did I say about my n—”

“My clothes,” you panic. “I can’t.” 

Yoongi gives you a quick look before gripping the duffle strap. Brows lowered, he grits out while dumping it, “Lose the shirt.” 

“What?” 

“Do it.” 

“Where’d he go?”

“It’s gone!”

Your heads snap up before you lock eyes. And he doesn’t need to say anything to show you what he’s thinking behind those minted bangs.

As you hastily strip, your brain works in weird ways. Instead of processing how you very much need to hurry the fuck up, you lament the bra of choice today. And how sweaty you look. Because of course those are your thoughts of choice right now. 

Something’s dumped on you before your shirt hits the ground, and you think about its warmth before you realize exactly what’s on your shoulders. “You sure?” 

He’s already heading down. Oh god. You’re really putting this on shit shit shit. 

You’re quick to slip into the material before checking for your chopsticks, rushing down the rest of the stairs to meet him. Nerves firing on all cylinders, you follow Yoongi out of the restaurant with a single, disturbing thought. 

This is going too well. 

But you’re passing tables, you’re walking by the fish display, don’t fucking sob you’re out in the street now. 

Relax. You’re walking. His white tee is flawless and people have no clue you left a bloody shirt on a stairwell. Don’t fucking cry.

But suddenly.

Shouting erupts behind you both, just as a cop car rolls past the restaurant only to get surrounded. 

And with one look back, your brain freezes. Right before Yoongi sounds a little too delighted to say something so foreboding,

“Looks like you’re in it now.”

Adrenaline spikes as you burst into motion. Hot summer air stings your lungs as legs propel you forward, with nothing in sight except for your partner in high crime. 

Yoongi’s right. 

You’re in it now. 

And just like the delinquents that you despise, the two of you both kick up dust on the run. 

You’re really doing this. 

Holy shit, you’re really doing this and there’s no waking up, no jolting awake, no pinching yourself to know that it’s all a dream. The only thing pinching is your sides, fresh stings of karma with each heavy footstep through crowded streets, buildings, levels, wherever the fuck you go. 

At least Yoongi is commanding as he leads you through the city—clearly from a heap of experience. Though rattled, you follow him with more adrenaline than questions. Because running is all you know. Run, run, run, escaping is your only objective and you cannot let up even once.

Your feet pelt down a staircase before you leap onto a disposal bin, impact denting as you follow Yoongi’s long strides across the colorful tops. Shouts and metal pings echo behind you as your chasers catch up, and you grit your teeth so hard they rattle as you jump to alley ground. “Fuck!”

Searing, searing pain rushes through your legs as you twist and wind through busy corridors, squeezing into the gaps Yoongi finds as he barrels in front. 

“Get back here!” 

“You fuckers!”

Who’s following you? Are they even Crane? You don’t see a shred of white on their clothes at all so are they working for some random guy Yoongi stole from?

When you watch him turn at the shouting, all thoughts vanish as your gut churns. 

He’s grinning.

You just killed someone for him. And he probably has more blood on his hands than you can imagine. 

And he’s… enjoying this? 

You feel sick, mind blazing with a million red warning signs. How could you ever have had feelings for h—

You bounce off a passerby as you run, grunting at the sudden pain in your shoulder when another person rams into your back and topples you over, dirt scraping into your palms and knees. 

Shit shit shit it’s so dusty on the ground and all you see are traveling shoes where are you? Where is he did he leave did he even see you fall? It’s too condensed here there’s no way he’s not taking the next chance to disappear.

Forget all of that, they’re coming. The chasers are coming and you see them see you down get up get up get up what the fuck get up now.

Ripping out a groan, you rush to your feet as soon as someone swoops in, bashing someone right behind you with someone’s crate of fruit. 

Yoongi? He waited for you?

“Go!” 

Both of you hightail it with you now in the lead, and your eyes buzz as you slip through holes in the crowd. Left, left, right, around, left again, between. 

An intersection ahead. Yes. Lose everyone in the vehicle traffic or hitch a ride with a stranger. Fascinating how the survival tactics that spawn from your block develop in real time on the run.

Almost there, almost there, almost there—fuck! 

Whiffing in front of your nose, a metal weapon smacks the ground at your toes. 

Flailing, you dodge the next swing, ducking before you see a black duffle smack your assailant in the face. 

Keep going. Finish him and get away. As Yoongi shifts left, you lunge forward, sending a swift punch to the guy’s ribs that hurt like hell goddamn oh fuck someone brought a knife!

“Yoongi!” Just as the surrounding civilians yell and clear out, you rush toward his aid before you’re tackled, air whooshing out of your lungs as your back pummels into gravel. Fuck fuck fuck this masked woman also has a dagger. A thick one. Don’t let her win don’t let her win hold on for dear fucking life. 

Did you think you’d find yourself in a grudge match to keep metal from sinking into your chest today? No. Ever? Also no. 

Your arms are shaking. Shots ring out. Sweat is your enemy. The street is in uproar. Where’s Yoongi did he hear you? Fuck, the metal tip is pricking you now this is— 

Mercifully, your attacker yelps as something slams into her side, dark brown clothes crumpling before you’re hoisted upward and dragged back into the crowd. 

“Let me go or I’ll kick your ass—”

“You good?” 

Oh, it’s Yoongi. Again. Okay. Eyes swirling, you lock onto the gun held flush in his other hand before you nod. “I—I think so—”

“Then keep up.” 

Winding between people, you’re only focused on getting away. But when you catch glimpses of him, he’s back to his glint. He’s exhilarated.

If only you were both doing anything else. If only you weren’t so queasy and guilty and loathing of your own self.

Right as you finally burst into bustling traffic, Yoongi boldly stops a taxi at its hood, motioning you to follow him inside. 

Shocked but head reeling, you open the door closest to your sweaty legs and slide in. 

And before you can even greet the shouting driver, Yoongi pulls you to his side and rushes something out in your ear, 

“Kiss me.” 

“I said get out!” 

“What?” 

“Come here.” 

You’ve kissed before. Not many times, but enough to know that this man knows what the fuck he’s doing because you feel like your soul just abandoned you to exist in this car forever. You don’t know why this is happening or where this came from, but his lips feel as soft as his name and as deadly as the gun he’s pulling on your driver—

“Han Station,” he drawls, halting time and space. “Or your papers are burned by morning.” 

Oh. 

You were just… Oh. 

Lips puffed and head swirling, you sit frozen in your spot, marinating in the realization that the best kiss of your life was a mere distraction. And as you watch Yoongi keep his aim straight, you assume he probably didn’t even think much of it, either. 

“…I thought you looked familiar,” the driver slowly grits, hands gripping his wheel before he shakes his head. “You’re a little far from home.”

You think that’s all he’s gonna say. But his eyes are sharp in the rear view mirror, knowing a gun is pointed straight at his dome. “Aren’t you.”

What is he getting at you need to leave fast—

“Agust.” 

…Huh? 

Agust? 

This is the first time you feel a heartbeat against your arm, and you hold a breath as Yoongi tightens his fingers on the gun. 

When he doesn’t reply, the car fills to the brim with tension, and you feel crushed by its liquid weight. 

Don’t you have to go? Aren’t you in a chase? Are you getting a little too hot?

When you go to slide to your own side of the car for some space, the hand around your shoulder squeezes. 

And you’re more confused, exhausted, and thrown off than ever. 

“Han Station,” is all Yoongi—Agust?—repeats, voice ice. “Now.”

To which the taxi driver stares, standing his ground until he breaks eye contact first to obey. 

“Fuckin’ Dragons and their useless whores.”

Oh, fuck that. 

Before you can lunge forward to outright strangle the man, Yoongi does something that has your eyes magnifying into saucers and hands shooting up to your mouth.

He fires the gun straight at the man’s thigh, yelps leaving both the driver's throat and yours holy fuck! 

“You bastard—”

“You’ll live. Drive.”

“Fucking—fuck!”

The car shifts through traffic, swerving left and right and cutting off slower vehicles. When force smushes you closer into Yoongi’s side, you can’t help but notice how fit he is, and how calm he’s being despite the whole chase. Despite that spike in adrenaline. Despite blowing a hole in a stranger’s leg for six words.

He also feels really, really good against your side, but you can’t let that matter anytime soon. There’s absolutely no way you can let this dangerous man in, especially after this entire nightmare of a day. 

So you swallow, trying to compartmentalize because you’ll reach insanity if you don’t.

Does anyone out there know you took a life minutes ago? Or hours ago? You just kissed a criminal five and a half minutes ago. Would they care about that, too?

The window is suddenly much more interesting than any of your wandering, slingshot thoughts. 

Wait. It’s very pretty in this area, and you finally can tell some semblance of where you are. Because you only know of one part of the city that looks like this, and it’s deep in Crane territory. 

Did you both really make it this far? 

Carefully tended to, it’s a lot greener on the sidewalks, and more open on the roads. And it’s on one of these roads that you finally notice the sunset, gold accents shining on sleek street signs and the tops of buildings that seem much more at rest than you do. 

Rest. Sleep. Home. 

With the luck you’re having, it would be a miracle and a half to reach even one of the three. 

Did you get followed? You don’t know how much longer you can run, so you really fucking hope not. 

“Almost there,” Yoongi whispers, voice scratching your ear in the worst and best ways. “When we get out, move your ass.” 

When you watch the wary, heavy breathing driver in his rear view mirror, you bite out, “I know how to get out of a car, thanks.” 

“Just listen to me.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?” 

“No.” 

That came out quicker than you could stop it. But Yoongi only lets silence come between you before he squeezes your shoulder. When he speaks, you can hear how carved out his smirk is without even seeing it, 

“Good girl.”

And you spoke the truth. It wouldn’t have come out so fast if it weren’t. But you know to at least follow his advice here because he’s kept you alive thus far. He didn’t need to drag you out and protect you the whole way, so it’s not like he would steer you wrong here. Right? 

Right? 

“Here,” Yoongi orders before the car slows to a stop. 

That wasn’t so bad. You can get out normally now so why did Yoongi say—

Right as your foot hits ground, the taxi peels out, forcing you to throw yourself out of the side before the rest of your body leaves with it. 

Fucking hell that hurt what the fuck was that for? 

Dirt and dust coats your tongue before you do anything to spit it out. Saliva rushes from your glands as you cough and hack, all while feeling every muscle group in your body begging to not stand up. 

But you feel rough, commanding hands on your arms. “You good?”

“Yeah—”

“Then get up. Get up.”

Straining and wincing like hell, you follow Yoongi’s lead yet again. Because you hear cars rolling up with bad intentions and that means you have to sprint again. 

What the fuck did Yoongi steal? And how the hell are these guys still on your tail? Their resources have got to be as good as Crane’s and yet, they don’t feel the same at all. 

You’re hobbling, but you’re going. You’re rushing. You’re going to get through this alive. 

Instead of heading into the underground, you find yourself ascending a flight of steps. Rumbles and rattles hit your ears as you realize exactly what kind of station this is—one you haven’t seen anywhere in your district. 

Han Station is a floating railway? 

Holy shit, where are you?

Yoongi skids around a corner before you plant hard to stop yourself, only to see him clash with someone before something connects right with your stomach, and you crumple before you feel a solid hit to your head. 

Oh.

The world spins and moves as you hear vibrations, slowed sounds that could be shouts. Gunshots? Or maybe songs? You don’t truly know but your head is aching—

Your arm rushes up to block something before your body follows, and you scream before gripping whatever you can and flipping a whole body forward. 

Reality crashes back into your ears as you snap out of your head. 

You haven’t had to do that maneuver in forever. Was muscle memory more than enough?

“Come on!”

Go. Go, follow him, both of you need to get to the rail shit it’s leaving!

The blaring reverberates through the air, pinging off metal and wheels screeching on the track lines as you bolt for the open doors.

Mid-stride, Yoongi swings to look at the people barreling up the stairs. “One more time: do you trust me?”

“No!”

“Good”—his hands grip your waist—“Jump!”

Head empty, you leap onto the railcar right as it starts to pick up speed, and you watch in horror as Yoongi empties his clip behind him until he can’t anymore. 

“Yoo—” Fuck, what was his name? He seems to not prefer the one you call him and that has to be for good reason. What was it?

You’re leaving. He’s gritting his teeth while hitting the bottom of his gun but he needs to get up! What was his fucking name! 

“Agust!” 

Yoongi finally whips his head around, dashing to the end of the train and straining to carry the duffle. 

He needs to launch it or leave it behind. There’s no way he’s not being weighed down so hard. “Here!” you yell, knowing that look is only reserved for people he doesn’t want to trust. It’s normal. But it still stings. “Hurry up!”

After one more second, he swings it around and flings, leaping onto the side handrail after you get blasted by the bag holy fuck that hurt. 

He was running with this the whole time? No wonder his shoulders are so cut this is heavy.

Straining, you peek out into the wind, seeing Yoongi holding on and scooting along thin steprails towards your awaiting hands.

Shit, this is dangerous. Buildings and the city below fly by, and a parallel train whooshes and roars past as you finally tug him inside with shaky wheezes.

Just like that.

You made it out.

What the fuck. You did it. No one else was able to get onto the train. You’re safe for now. 

Finally, finally, finally able to breathe. 

But goddamn, you both stand out like blood on a blank page.

As you struggle to fully stand, you notice everyone else on the train—well-kept, carrying themselves in sleek linens and lush outfits, hair done beautifully and to perfection. 

Which makes it unsurprising that plenty of them regard the pair of you with suspicion and morbid curiosity. While intrigue covers the one with an unfairly handsome face, zings of jealousy and judgment fire your way. 

You feel so out of place. You are so out of place. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to look at you like filth. The words from the taxi driver pierce your brain again, and you feel rage and pain bubble up to your tongue,

“Anyone got something they wanna sa—”

But Yoongi does something that has your brain chemistry altering because he casually bends a knee in front of you while holding the top rail, forcing you back into the side of the train car and only seeing his jewelry. 

When your eyes snap to his, he regards you before peering outside. “Stop,” he mutters. “You're causing a scene.”

“Me?” Oh, he has some nerve. “What did I do, you’re the one—”

“Quiet.”

Ridiculous. Huffing, you let disagreement tug your lips while joining him in watching the world go by. 

Realizing with a pang that you are probably never getting back home. You’re never gonna see your favorite neighbor with his woks and caterpillar eyebrows. All the produce you were planning to sell will only succumb to mold and time. 

Your tangerines… 

When a tear falls, it glints in your reflection before quickly being swiped away. 

No. Don’t do any of that here where people can see—where he can see. No one will know what the hell you just went through today. Be normal, strong, normal. 

The ride lasts a little longer, with people coming and going during each stop. When there are seats open, neither you nor Yoongi move to take them. The two of you stay glued where you stand.

Silent, together, and covered in hidden blood.

The next stop seems to be in a quieter sector of the city. All around you are buildings you’ve never seen before stretching miles into the sky, and the streets are so neatly paved you’re convinced they’re fake. 

“This is us,” Yoongi whispers, hand guiding your hip to move toward the doors.

Skin scorching under his touch, you can only nod.

Where are you now? Where are you getting off? 

You both exit the train with a few others, and you watch with heightened curiosity as they carry satchels and wear shoes that look horribly uncomfortable. As you move down the steps, you keep craning your neck to take everything in, and more questions fill your head than answers. 

But the truth remains even as you and Yoongi stop in front of your destination.

You cannot run anymore. Even if more of whoever those guys were showed up, you may just choose to sit down instead of take another stride. Besides, your body is still running a thousand steps even though you haven’t moved since getting on the train anyway. After today, the chase may never stop.

“We’ll stay here.” 

We? Stay? 

“Here? This place is…” You keep peering up and up, the top of the building so high your neck hurts. It’s so foreign and magical your only adjective is a quiet, “Nice.” 

At your side, Yoongi seems annoyed when he asks, “Expect something different?” 

“Yeah, like… I dunno, a secret lair or something.” 

Air whooshes from his nostrils, but there’s a stark absence of a smile. Looking up at the building, too, he explains something that you’ve never heard of before,

“We’re in a grey zone. No one will follow us here.” 

Right. Because that somehow makes sense to regular civilians like you. Because you are one, are one, are one. “Allegedly,” you scoff, not knowing what to believe anymore.  

Yoongi pauses before heading up, and his agreement makes you look. “Allegedly.” 

Mm. 

After taking the tiny steps to the entrance, you wonder what he must be thinking bringing your haphazard look in tow. 

Because he could’ve left you behind at any point in time. But he didn’t. What does that mean? Why is he keeping you alive and at his side?

While you’re taking in the opulent and vast lobby, Yoongi guides you toward the front desk, shifting the duffle on his shoulder. 

This place is gorgeous. Nothing like you’ve ever seen. How were they able to install a waterfall in a building? What kind of money does this so-called grey zone have? 

Yoongi nods toward the concierge, who quickly nods back and scurries away and into a room.

If you weren’t so tired, you could probably make something of that exchange. But you are very much exhausted so frankly, you don’t give a shit right now. 

Although. You do give a shit about the fingers suddenly interlacing with your own. As your hand is held, you shoot your best client a look so potent he stares back. “What now,” you snip, question low and dripping with distrust. 

Unfazed, Yoongi slowly pulls you into his side, a steady hand coming up to wrap around your tired hips. So nonchalant, so lax, so confusing as he murmurs,

“Just wanted to.”

Your heart trips into the next beat.

On sore legs, you wait until the concierge comes back with a key, eyes swiping over you as if they finally noticed your existence. Which seems to perplex them as they hand over the metal device.

And Yoongi just takes it, not a word said before he directs you across the lobby to what look like elevators.

Even these look fancy as fuck. Wherever you are and whatever this place is, you feel even more out of place than on that judgy train. 

A hotel worker bows before he motions to the opening doors. “Nice to see you again,” he murmurs to the ground, seemingly expecting the same non-response given to the front desk. “Would you like the usual, Mister—” 

“No,” Yoongi clips him off. “Not this time.” 

“Understood.” 

Brows pinched, you’re starting to get a weird feeling. 

How does everyone know Yoongi so well here? He said this was a grey zone, which you’d think would be akin to a neutral or non-threatening one. So why does it feel like he’s got this area on lock? Who exactly are you getting into an elevator with? 

…Who exactly did you save? 

Yoongi was right when he said you’re in it now. But faced with more questions surrounding him than anything or anyone else, you’re starting to wonder what pit of hell you dropped yourself into. 

Especially after catching the look of utter panic from the serviceman. 

Right before sliding doors shut the world out. 

—

—

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: thank you all for being so patient as i work through this! it was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but i like, need characters to get to know and learn about one another before heading into spice lmao. I NEED PLOT OK. THERE WILL BE LOTS OF SMUT I PROMISE DSHFKDSF we just gotta get through the slow burn first >:)) a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist (coming soon!)

[applejuicefruit]

Can you write something with neymar where reader is from LA and is visiting ney. Then reader gets homesick and becomes a bit distant, but then ney realizes that she is homesick and comforsts reader.

I really loved your other writings so i had to request this one❤️❤️ 

Hii! Thank you for requesting this! I didn’t know if you wanted Neymar to be in Brazil or in Paris in this story 🥲 I hope you don’t mind reader’s visiting him Paris.

I really hope you like this ❤️

ps: i remember when i went to london all by myself when i was 16 and i stayed there for a month and i remember telling my friends i was missing home in italy and they just ignored me :) nostalgia is real people !!!

City of Angels

Los Angeles. Your safe place. Your safe heaven. Your home.

You thought no place on Earth could ever compete with your hometown. You had the hills, the beaches, museums and millions of people visiting every year. It was your home.

You lived in a nice cozy apartment on the Hills. It was small but it was everything you ever dreamed of. Every morning you woke up with the beautiful Los Angeles sun coming through your window, the Hollywood sign in background. It was perfect. Your life was perfect.

Also because you were dating famous football player Neymar. Honestly you had no idea of who he was before you googled him. Being a Los Angeles Dodgers fan meant that you knew nothing about football or soccer as you call it to make Neymar mad.

You met in LA, that’s why you are so thankful for this city. You were both attending the same party and the moment your eyes met you knew it was game over. He introduced himself to you and waited for your surprised reaction that never came. It took you a whole week before finding out who he really was. He always loved this side of you. He dated so many people who wanted him only for fame and money, but with you things were different, you were so pure and kind and not affected by fame or popularity. Probably because that was the normality in LA.

You were getting ready for going to the airport, ready to leave the City of Angeles behind and spend the next two months in Paris with your boyfriend Neymar. You were so excited to see him again but honestly you couldn’t stop but feeling a little sad leaving this city behind. You let a few tears fall while watching the Hollywood sign from your bedroom. Then you closed all the suitcases and left for for the airport.

Almost 9 hours of flight after and you landed in Paris. Neymar couldn’t come and get you because he was practicing that day so he sent one of drivers to come and get you.

The moment you left the airport shock hit you. The sky was so grey you couldn’t even see the clouds, it was raining and it was freezing cold. You weren’t ready for this.

You smiled at his driver and got into the car while you were watching the view from your passenger side.

“Why everything seems so boring?” you asked yourself hoping Ney’s driver didn’t hear you. But he was too focused on the road to even pay attention to you.

Once you’ve arrived, the driver helped you into Ney’s apartment and then left. Neymar gave you his spare keys when he was in Los Angeles visiting you.

His apartment was huge.

Literally huge. It took you almost 20 minutes to visit every room. His apartment included an indoor pool and gym, five bedrooms and 5 bathrooms, a theatre room, a playroom, a large kitchen and a living room with the amazing view of the eiffel tower.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad” you hoped.

You were sitting on the couch watching some weird french movie that you couldn’t even understand when Neymar appeared in the living room.

“You already got yourself comfortable I see” he said coming behind you and kissing your head

“Ney!!” you jumped on his arms the moment you saw him

“Did you miss me angel?” he asked kissing you while he hold you by your ass

“Very much” you replied between kisses

“There are so many things I want to show you” he told you. And so it was. For he first two days he didn’t have practice so he showed you around Paris. It was nice actually. A bit cold but it was good. You loved the museums, the architecture, the churches.

But after the first week passed nostalgia hit you hard. You started missing the sun and the warm of your beautiful city.

One morning depression hit you really bad. You woke up and it was raining so much you couldn’t even go outside and get breakfast. So you stayed at home, sat on the couch with a fluffy blanked around your body watching the rain coming down from the window.

You couldn’t help but let a few tears fall. You’ve never been so nostalgic, but here you are.

You were so stressed that you didn’t even hear Neymar coming out from the bathroom, freshly showered. He was wearing a black t-shirt and some sport pants.

“Meu amor?” he gently approached you, slightly worried when he saw you crying “are you okay?”

“Yes…” you said wiping a few tears from your face

“Sure…” he sat next to you “care to tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s silly…”

“If you’re crying it’s not silly”

“I just-I miss home…” you said letting more tears fall

“What-what you mean?” he asked you a bit worried “you don’t like it here?”

“It’s not that…it’s just-it’s just that I miss Los Angeles so much…I’ve never been this nostalgic I don’t know what has gotten into me, I’m sorry”

“No baby, don’t be sorry, it’s completely normal” he said hugging you “you’ve never been away from home this much, it’s normal feeling a bit sad”

“I know I just wished I didn’t cry…”

“You can cry all you want with me” he said kissing your forehead

“Thank you babe…I really needed it”

“Of course meu amor…you know what? I don’t have any match next week…what if we go back to Los Angeles for a couple of days? Ah? You can show me that crazy fast food you can’t stop talking about!”

“You mean In N Out?” you asked while your eyes were completely shining

“Yes that one”

“Are you sure? I know you love Paris…and it’s your free week…”

“I’m happy as long as you are. And clearly you’re feeling a little bit distressed now…nothing would make me happy than to go back in Los Angeles with you amor”

“I love you so much Ney!” you said wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him while he held your hips

“I love you too baby, so fucking much…” he whispered while you kept kissing.

You couldn’t ask for more. In the end, your life was really perfect.

[mrs-santoss]

As Long As You're Okay - Neymar Imagine

Summary: Hiii :) Love ur blog. Can u do a imagine where u wreck Neymars new car and ure scared to tell him. Can u make it where Ney is very sweet and understandable and it ends in fluff. It literally happened to me today lol. Kissess xoxo Author's Note: Hi, love. I hope your accident wasn't anything too serious. Thank you for the kind words, lots of love from me. :)

Neymar bought a new car a week ago. He was thinking of purchasing it for so long now. He got a Lamborghini Urus S in his favorite color and he's very excited to drive it. I, myself, drive a Range Rover mini Evoque. It's not as big as Ney's new car, but it's still a SUV. I had to run some errands today while Neymar was still asleep. It's Saturday, so usually Neymar sleeps in late since he doesn't have training. I got out of the shower and did my hair and makeup in the bathroom. After I did so, I went to my closet in the bedroom where Ney was sleeping to get something to wear. I had my back turned to Neymar and I go through my clothes. I'm only in my underwear. "Hey there, sexy ass" he says in a sleepy voice catching me by surprise. "Hey there, amor. I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" I turn to face him and jump on the bed to kiss him. "Kind of, but It's okay, I love the view." he says back to me. "I have to run some errands today, I will be back in 2 hours or less. Can you hang out by yourself until then, amor?" I ask him while laying my head on his chest. "Sure, I'll probably fall back asleep after you leave. Hey, why don't you take the new car?" he asks me with excitement. "Uhh, I don't know, bebê. It's a brand new car, I'm scared of ruining it. I'll just take my car." I ask back to him and return to the closet pulling out a sports wear set and a sweatshirt to throw over the shirt, just in case. "No, bebê. You're a great driver, you can take it, it's okay." he asks back to me, finally convincing me. "Okay, then. Thank you, amor! Love you, go back to sleep!" I give him a kiss on the lips, grab my purse and the car keys and leave. "I love you too, amor" _________________________________________________ I had to stop by the pharmacy to pick up some things and go shopping for some bed sheets. After I was done with the pharmacy, I made my way to Anthropologie for the bed sheets. The car is amazing. The interior is very chic and modern. I drove Neymar's cars before, but usually, he's the one who drives when we're together. I park the car and head out to the store. I spend half an hour there before I make my way back to the car. I put everything in the trunk and get ready to leave. As soon as I make my way out of the parking lot, I meet a small intersection. All of a sudden, a car comes from the other way at full speed making a turn at the same time a do. I try my best to swerve the car on the other direction to avoid a fatal hit. I turn my steering wheel towards a pole and I crash into it with my side of the car. The other car just honks and leaves. This is not a very busy road, so he must've thought the same because he was going at full speed in such a dangerous road. He was stupid. What the fuck. I start to panic. I was okay physically, but the only thing in my mind was Neymar. Shit. Fuck. I should've taken my fucking car. How do I let him know about this? I can't call him. But, I have too. Maybe, I can fix it and not let him know. I can't do that. FUCK. I began to cry out of frustration and anxiety. The thing that was bothering me the most was the fact that Ney trusted me with this car, I should've been more cautious. I should've been more careful, maybe paid more attention. I move the car to a more safe place and grab my phone to call my boyfriend. It was time. I hate it when I have to disappoint him. I didn't even care about the price of fixing it, I would work double shifts and pay it, It was all about Neymar. I dial his number and he picks up after a few rings. "Hey, bebê. Where are you? Are you done already?" he asks immediately. I don't know why I began to cry hard and a sob came out. "Ney..." I can't talk, I don't wanna sound weak, but I can't talk without crying. "Y/N? Y/N, what's wrong? Are you okay?" he asks me, now in a worried tone. "Ney, I'm sorry, bebê. But..." I speak to him in a barely understandable voice.

"Y/N, why are you crying? Please, talk to me, meu amor. You're driving me crazy" he asks slightly raising his voice at me. Probably, because of his panic mode not because he wants to yell at me. At least for now. "I was on my way home and.... I didn't see him... or he didn't see me I don't know... And I tried to avoid crashing into him.... and I...." I couldn't even finish before Neymar spoke up. "WHAT?! Y/N are you okay? Where are you?!" he's practically screaming at me now. "I swerved the car and crashed into a pole. I'm okay, but the car is wrecked on my side. I'm so sorry, Ney. I tried my best to be careful, I'm so sorry." I finally confess to him, still crying. "Bebê? Y/N? Amor, it's okay, fuck the car. I'm not mad AT ALL. Do you hear me? Amor, can you tell me your location please?" he asks, now in a calm tone, he can tell that I'm scared of what his reaction will be. "I will fix it, I promise. I will send it in today and make it look as new. I promise, Ney. I know, I should've been more careful." I say back to him, I want to let him know I'm extremely sorry. He works hard for his money, he deserves everything he has and here's me, ruining his possessions. "Y/N, calm down, meu amor. Can you PLEASEEE let me know your location? I want to be there, bebê." he asks, I can hear shuffling in the background, I think he's getting in the car to come to me. I give him my location and hang up waiting for him to come. I want to get out of the car and see the mess I've done. The more I look at it the more sad I get. I know Neymar is able to afford this car, but that doesn't mean I should take advantage of that. That's what I'm scared he will think because of this. Neymar arrives with my car and parks it in front of me. As soon as he parks he immediately gets out of the car and runs to my door. He opens the door and takes a look at me examining me. He didn't even glance at the damaged spot. He looked very worried. "Y/N, are you okay?" he asks while still looking at me, pulling my hair behind my ear looking at my face. All of a sudden his eyes widen." Oh, my god, you're hurt, Y/N. Did you not notice this? I was confused. I wasn't in any pain. Maybe I still have a rush of adrenaline going through me, that's why I didn't notice it. But, I felt okay. I had a scratch on my temple, it was bleeding. "No, Ney. I'm okay, It's just a scratch, bebê. It must of happened when I hit the brake. I promise, I'm okay." I say to him, he's not convinced by my words at all. He grabs my hands and helps me step outside of the car. He presses me against the car and takes a longer look at it. He still hasn't looked at the mess. I decided to speak up. "Ney, did you see the mess?" I ask in a low tone. "I think we should go to the hospital. This could be serious. Do you feel dizzy or anything?" he asks, completely ignoring my question. "Ney? I'm sorry, I will fix it, I promise." I say to him, bringing back the question. "Meu amor, fuck the car. Do you hear me? You could've been seriously hurt. This could've been fatal if you didn't react this way. I know what you're thinking, but trust me, I don't have the tiniest thought of blaming you. I know you don't want to cause me any damage, but I truly believe I was blessed today. You're here next to me." he says all this quickly with his hands on my cheeks, kissing my forehead repeatedly.

We press our foreheads against each other. "Are you sure you're okay, Y/N? Please don't lie to me." "I'm okay, Ney. I promise." "I love you so fucking much. I've never been more scared in my life than the moment you called me crying about the crash." "I'm sorry. I love you too, amor. I fucking love you too."

[slady-ao3]

The ones I consider legends in my corner of fandom seem too kind anyway, but I hope no matter what they always remember how much happiness they have brought others with their talents. So thank you for the stories that have made me smile, reflect, laugh, sigh, even cry- you really have made a positive difference in my life. 🏆✨️

@nei-ning @baraturts @mizmomo @kc-anathema @hummerhouse

(Not to leave out other amazing writers but these are my top five who literally introduced me to good fanfiction, inadvertently changing my life.)

🏆legends✨️

Those writers who you think are "big" don't feel big because of the steady drop in engagement especially over the past few years and treating fic like content rather than a gift. Also because we have egos made of paper and we all suffer from imposter syndrome.

There is literally nothing you could say to us that would make us get a swelled head because most of us are crushingly hard on ourselves.

.

[holdmyhopeinyourhands]

Who is Vini and why do you love him so much?

Vini is Carol's husband and Carol is the mother of Neymar's son. Both Vini and Ney are best friends and adore each other's kids. And all three of them (Carol, Vini and Neymar) are a tightknit family that love each other and I think that's amazing and it's why i stan Vini so hard. Plus he's so supportive of Ney it's literally the cutest thing ever.

Here are the three of them just hanging out:

Honestly, the fact that Vini and Carol have always been there for Neymar through everything. Defended him and supported him when he was getting the most abuse is what makes me so utterly fond of them. Especially Vini who never had a connection with Ney until he got together with Carol. And now these three are inseparable and the fact that they always visit him (moving to spain to be closer to him) whenever they think he's feeling too lonely melts my heart. They're a supreme, unique unconventional family and I love them for it.

[historyman101]

Question to all in the Napoleonic Era/Marshals fandom:

What about this period interests or fascinates you the most? How were you first introduced to it?

I’ll start.

My introduction to the Napoleonic Wars was back when I was still in grade school (around ages 10-12). I had grown a fascination with history in general but especially with military history, starting first with the American Revolution and the American Civil War. When I was learning about the Civil War and the tactics both armies used, I naturally came to study the Napoleonic art of war, and thus came face to face with the “big” man himself.

One thing that amazed me about Napoleon is how he literally came from nothing and rose to be (for a short period of time) the most powerful man in the world. His life was a true rags-to-riches-to-rags story, or as Stanley Kubrick once said, “an epic poem in motion.” Not only that, but his impact on war is all but incalculable.

Before Napoleon, warfare was a very different affair in Europe. Campaigns could often go on for long periods and armies often moved very slowly. Outcomes of wars very rarely rested on decisive battles. But Napoleon, utilizing the lessons drawn from the French Revolution, turned all that its head. He emphasized speed, maneuvering, and destroying the enemy’s will to fight.

Many of his reforms last to this very day, such as the Corps d’Armee system, the use of mobile artillery, and theories on maneuver warfare. That combined with his charisma and his ability to inspire confidence and loyalty in his soldiers, his marshals, and the French people left me enraptured with him.

Apart from his influence on war, his influence on society and culture is something that’s felt to this day. A lot of people decry him as a tyrant (some even compare him to Hitler, which is wholly unfair) and a traitor to the revolution, but I think that does a big disservice to all the good he did for his country. He supported the French Revolution and saw why it was necessary but also recognized the instability and violence it brought. He obviously loved France and the French people and only wanted the best for them. A lot of his reforms to France and his empire were based off the Revolution, and served as underpinnings for Europe today. His Civil Code for example is the basis of legal codes for much of Europe.

Andrew Roberts, a British historian, put it better than I could:

“The ideas that underpin our modern world—meritocracy, equality before the law, property rights, religious toleration, modern secular education, sound finances, and so on—were championed, consolidated, codified and geographically extended by Napoleon. To them he added a rational and efficient local administration, an end to rural banditry, the encouragement of science and the arts, the abolition of feudalism and the greatest codification of laws since the fall of the Roman Empire.”

Apart from Napoleon himself, his marshals, generals, and opponents are all fascinating characters, practically living legends. I’ve already explained why Poniatowski interests me, but there are countless others like Marshal Davout (who never lost a single battle!) and Marshal Ney (who single-handedly led his corps to safety after almost being destroyed in Russia). The Marshals came from almost every background (more than half were middle or lower class) and were perhaps the best example of the meritocratic system Napoleon wanted for his empire.

My dream is to see the whole era of history dramatized for TV, something like a more historical Game of Thrones. The era has all the trappings for a great epic, complete with larger than life characters, action, war, intrigue, love and sex.

AND THEN I RAMBLED SOME MORE.

[dongfangxunfeng]

shelly im so sorry that anon earlier was harrassing you; if they try to come for u again i will literally k word them with my former comfort woman nei nei’s handleless knife (btw on that subject she’s a baddie i love her). ur such an amazing and gorgeous person, and u dont deserve someone to talk down to u like that. sending u love 💖 💞 (btw for the favorite poem thing: i rly love goblin market by christina rosetti)

ahhh hi jeannie 🥺💖💖 your nei nei sounds like an amazing woman 💖 and thank u so much for ur kind words i hope u take care 💖

[en-theheights]

How I feel about the cast of Andi Mack since the finale is about to be a YEAR OLD: (this is my opinion soooo..)

Peyton (Andi): She is so Graceful! She’s turned into a beautiful young women, and I’m excited to see where her career goes cause I know it’ll be good! She’s really quiet when it comes to social media, but from what I can tell she’s just living a good ordinary teenage life.

Sofia (Buffy): it’s literally Sofia, a freaking QUEEENNN!!!✨ she has probably grown the most out of everybody imo, career wise. She has moved on to so many different projects that’s really putting her name on the map. She is beautiful, and as always so well-spoken and an amazing role-model for younger kids. I don’t like picking favorites,,,, but Sofia is literally my Favorite.

Joshua (Cyrus): uhhhh...idk honestly. Josh did a lot of really awful things during the running of Andi Mack, and even after. He’s doing better now I guess, but after Andi Mack was officially over, I just kind of forgot about him. He’s super political, which for me can sometimes be annoying, but other than that I guess I say my feelings for him are neutral.

Lilan (Bex): I haven’t been following her much after the end of Andi Mack, but as I can see she is living a good adult life with a bunch of her friends and family. Seems to still be an awesome person doing great things.

Trent (Bowie): He’s so perfect, like omg. I always see him leaving comments on some of Asher’s and Sofia’s Instagram post, and he just gives off the best dad vibes. It looks like he’s living a good quiet life with his fiancé (wife maybe?) and her son.

Asher (Jonah): Uhhhhh.....ehhhhhhhh...Asher is...whelp just Asher. imo, Asher has become EXTREMELY irriating on all of his social medias. He only ever post about his music career and... that’s it. His Instagram is just flooded with a bunch of tik toks from fans, and his merch, and his music, and I feel like I don’t know Asher at all. I’ve never really liked Asher much, he seemed a bit..off to me. He did just recently break up with his girlfriend ( which I was lowkey happy about, that girl is the reason he didn’t go to the last and final cast party and I will NEVER FORGET IT) so maybe that’s why he acts super strange. All in all, I could care less about what he’s up to now, but I will be tuning in for Shazam 2 when it premieres.

Lauren (Cecila): She’s adorable! She’s not very active on social media, but when she is she’s always talking about Andi Mack. Not much to say about her, but I will always and forever love Cecila !!!

St*ney (Ham): Fuck this dude. A phedophile, and just weird. I’m pretty sure the reason that Andi Mack didn’t get a season four is heavily due to the situation involving him. When all that came crashing down, I felt like it was Andi mack’s breaking point, and they just decided to end it at season 3. I will never forgive him for ending an amazing show, and I hope he spends the rest of his life in prison.

Emily ( Amber): When I think of Emily, I immediately think of grass and flowers. She’s super out-doorsy, and all of her picks are of just her and nature. She’s seems likes she doing well. Also to add on, her style is EECENTRIC LIKE I WISH I HAD A STYLE SENSE LIKE HER.

Garren (Marty): he hasn’t been active on any social media’s, but Garren is a phenomenal actor because he can go from being cutesy Marty to hood-gangster Garren. From what I can tell, he’s sticking to a rapping career, so I hope eveything is well. To add on, I don’t think he ever said anything during the finale or the end of Andi Mack. He was a hardcore Muffy shipper, but then came their endgame and he had nothing to say.

Luke (TJ): Luke is a CHARACTER, I’ll tell you that much. He is overly obsessed with all of his activist stuff. Like yay for the environment, but he takes it a step too far. He’s also just says some really weird shit on his Twitter. Idk how it’s going for him but I hoped he’s well. Also he’s been canceled like 12 billion times, but I’m not 100% sure why.

Darius (Walker): Seems like a cool dude. Not even going to cap, I have no idea what he’s up to.

Raquel (Kira): I see her in One Day At a Time now, so I’m guessing she’s doing good. Don’t know anything about her either, oops.

[jorgecrespo]

Rank the most overrated scenes in the Skamverse

Guess who's back, back again, Kallie's back, tell a friend 🤗🤗

So anyway now that I'm back I thought I'd do this ask that will make everyone super mad at me!! But who cares everyone is always mad at me and if you ain't got nothing to live for then you got nothing to lose babe 🤙🤙🤙

Paint scene. aka the skamfr reunion scene. Anyway......AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HATE THIS SCENE IF I HAVE TO SEE ONE MORE GIFSET OF TWO BOYS FUCKING IN PAINT (PAINT!!!!) I'M GOING TO LICH REALLY SCREAM I'M NOT KIDDING. I'M REALLY NOT. I'M SO ANGRY. I'M GONNA PUNCH SOMETHING. PROBABLY MYSELF

The ending of druck s4. Whatever. You know what. I'm very excited for a new generation. However, I'm still fucking pissed at the ending. Amira's goodbye party where Mia is with this random chick and one of the main characters is lich really leaving the country but we'll never hear from her again and that video. THAT VIDEO. "This one's for you" IF YOU DON'T SHUT UP RIGHT NOW. Not only were we promised an alien movie but wtf was the point of breaking the 4th wall like that. Like, what was that? I'm so mad just thinking about it. I just want to forget that ever happened. Jesus was crucified for telling the truth too, just keep that one in mind

Ending of s3 (except españa). España isn't my favorite evak season so you know things are serious right now. Let's get it started. So with og and italia it had the whole "babysitting Even" aspect that everyone knows I fucking HATE. France was better but it was a bunch of shifting povs and reminding me Charles exists so it's like :/. Wtfock was ok but not groundbreaking. It's fine. Druck was the best but it was so short. Why? There was nothing to it. What's the point to any of this. What's the point of my life

The end of s5. Holding hands, crying, graffiti, Lola showing up and acting like we know her. Honestly, fuck this season. The ending was not "cute" it sucked like every other episode OK LEAVE ME ALONE

Druck bonus episode. You know what, god has left the building and no one can hurt me, this shit was dumb. Come fight me, alright. It's fine. But answer me this, what was the point? All the characters felt different (and that's on rushed writing, luv 💅), it was just some random clips that didn't add anything, AND apparently it was the first week of s4 when it very clearly wasn't. So like, no. No. Druck had three amazing seasons and I just ignore the rest. Life is easier that way

"Do you see me laughing". Jens doesn't get a free pass because of this line and that's that on that

Arthur losing his hearing. Ok, y'all are talking about this like it was a cinematic masterpiece. It was ok. Still not sure why Arthur picked a fight with a drug dealer. But you know what, that's fine. The scene is perfectly acceptable but like, pls calm down everyone

Ending of france s4. Holy shit guys, why do I still see people talk about this scene like it's good. Glad Imane is finally with her stupid boyfriend and her horrible friends that's really cool! Why can literally no skam end a season properly eye.....

Call your girlfriend. Never been my favorite tbh. The og had the shock factor and wtfock kinda made the same impact, however I don't really think the scene is necessary. It's fine but like..... necessary? Nei

Alexia breaking up with Arthur. Ok, yes this was cool. We stan Alexia. But, as is usual for skamfr, it tried to erase everything that already happened. Really happy she's suddenly strong and brave when y'all tortured her for no fucking reason jfc.

[ravensrevcnge]

"I don't know, it kind of sounded like you believed it." She's not knocking the idea, though. Maybe Ney would do good with a younger guy to keep her life interesting. Clearly not this younger guy since he made a mess of things, but still. Or hell, maybe it was all a misunderstanding? "Do you want a bad boy in your life to clean up after? Sounds like a lot of work if you ask me." She didn't really think Micah felt into that category, maybe more fancied himself to be one, but regardless. That didn't seem like the type of guy that would work for Neylani in the long term. She needed something more...stable. More reliable, supportive.

But then again, maybe that didn't actually exist. Maybe they were both better off doing their own thing.

"Alright, listen - timeline-schmimeline. You can go at your own pace, girlfriend. You're doing amazing. Have you even noticed that you're freakin' sheriff of this place?" Maybe she didn't have the guy or the kids, but that didn't mean there wasn't still time. "Besides, if you really want kids, there are ways to go about that. Without the guy. Just, you know. Food for thought. If motherhood is really what you think you want in your life right now, I'm here for you one hundred percent. Just tell me where and when to be and I'll be there. Granted, I don't have much experience with babies. But I'm pretty quick on my feet, I could probably figure it out."

She looped her arm through Ney's as they walked, eyebrows knitting together briefly at the mention of 'blazing hot wings'. "See, I knew I liked you. I like my girls spicy," she teased, nudging her playfully. "I'm pretty sure that is a usual on the menu, though you may have to count me out. I think I might literally die after one of those wings, and I fancy myself pretty decent with my spice..."

Ney offered the woman a look. "I know you saw me do this, right?" she asked, miming air quotes again. "He likes to pretend that he's a troubled lost soul not worthy of anything, who am I to burst that bubble of his?" She chuckled to herself. Micah certainly looked like he would be a lot of trouble, but that could be misleading, she felt. He was a quiet, stand-offish person that had intrigued her enough to ask him out in the first place. But other than a few relatively minor run-ins with the law and general grumpiness to him, the wolf had never given her such a terrible impression of himself.

"Mm, I don't know," Ney only shrugged as they walked along in the direction of the rowdy bar. "I think I stopped looking for that person a while ago," she admitted, "because I don't know if they actually exist. Really, the whole thing is just exaggerated." Her arms came up to cross over her chest, an unconscious move to hug herself. "But I haven't gotten any younger and just-- I'm already six years past when I thought I would already have this all sorted out. I should have two-point-five children by now, a husband of three years after we dated for a conservative two, engaged for one.." The annoyance that she hadn't managed to accomplish this, or anything remotely close to this, was evident in her tone. Ney was not a woman who liked when things didn't go her way.

But like Kara, she was also a woman not very keen on giving up her independence or making room for someone else in her life. That was a big chunk of the problem, which she seemed to overlook. Ney's inability to release the reins and just let something happen hindered things, and even if she did get a sprinkle of interest from someone... Well, she managed to squash that all to hell once they discovered how stuck in her ways she was, and how unwilling she was to embrace change or adjustments to what she was comfortable with. "Do you think they'll have the blazing hot wings tonight?" she asked, trying to recall, smiling over at Kara as the woman came in quick with the support. She was a good friend. As awful as the detective's situation had been a few years ago, Ney couldn't say she wasn't a little bit glad it happened, as it had given them the chance to meet. Kara made a fine wolf.