#she's finally the ray of sunshine she was born to be

[luna-loveboop]

"She has a smile like the sun. I would do much to feel its warmth upon me once again." -Great Deku Tree breath of the wild

The amount of times Zelda smiles in breath of the wild:

The amount of times Zelda smiles in tears of the kingdom:

She's happy now :)

[uncookedfeeler]

CITRUS I🍋

Yuna x Reader

Tags : 4k, light smut, incest,

Part 2

Parenting is one of life's most transformative experiences. It is a journey filled with joy, growth, challenges and the commitment to raise and guide another human being. From the moment a child is born into the world, parents find themselves on a rollercoaster ride of endless new experiences, emotional highs and lows, and unwavering love.

Parents are caregivers, teachers and coaches, constantly trying to decipher their child's needs and feelings. While the joys of parenting are many, the challenges can be daunting. From sleepless nights with a newborn to the complexities of teenage rebellion, each stage of a child's development brings its own set of hurdles.

After more than fifty years on this planet, half of them with your wife, you're lucky enough to have a 20-year-old girl as your child. From day one she has been the ray of sunshine that lights up your life. She is the person you love most and will remain your most precious treasure until your last breath. But your relationship has changed a lot over the years. Your little princess has gone from being Daddy's little girl to a gorgeous woman who has been driving a wedge between you since she was a teenager. 

This distance has increased since she became a famous idol and now lives between the dormitory and your house, although she only stays when she wants to. 

As usual, you come home from work late in the evening and enter the lock code to get into your house. Unlike before, the lights are still out and the house is deserted. You leave your keys on the hall stand and walk into the living room, closing the SAS door behind you.

You sigh as you walk through the living room to your bedroom, the room a bit messy with some of your dirty clothes from the night before still on the tripod, you sit down on your bed to remove your tie and finally free your neck, your suit disappears and you put on more relaxed clothes. At the same time, your phone rings and you see the name of one of your colleagues on the display:

"Sorry to call so late, hope I'm not disturbing you?" says a soft voice at the other end of the line.

"Not at all, Mrs Bae, I just got home, what can I do for you?" you reply, laughing.

"The CEO wants to see you in his office tomorrow, he came by earlier but you already left, he said he wants to talk about the last contract you secured". 

"Ahahah, the old man already knows it seems, ok ok, noted I'll meet him tomorrow, have a good night Ms.Bae".

"You too, Director"

You put your phone on the bed before returning to the kitchen to prepare your meal and pour yourself a well-deserved beer. With your face still in the fridge, you hear the front door open and a familiar voice echo through the room with a simple "I'm home, I'm tired! "

You immediately know who it is and reply, "Welcome my darling, good to see you home, how was your day, are you hungry?"

Without answering, you see a young woman with red hair jumping onto the sofa. 

"Yuna, please take off your shoes before entering the house, and at least take off your jacket, it's quite warm in the house," you begin to reproach your only child.

"Daddy, please don't start, I've already lost my mind today with the girls, leave me alone!" the young woman cries in obvious annoyance.

The routine is back and you make the effort to take off her shoes while she is lying on her stomach on the sofa, you notice her outfit for the day, a black leather jacket hiding a nice white t-shirt and beige trousers, so you take the opportunity to complicate your princess. 

"That's a nice outfit, darling."

"Thank you," she replies, blushing.

You put the shoes down in the hallway next to yours and see her already absorbed in her phone, so you try to get the conversation going again:

"What happened to make my little Yuna so upset?" you say.

"I'm not 13 anymore, Dad, you can call me by my first name".

"Ah ah, sorry, Yuna".

"Those bitches stole my concept for the shoot, we had to choose a fruit and we had matching colour outfits, during the pre-shoot meeting we agreed and as luck would have it today they used their "maknae shoot last" rule and took my fruit!!! "

"Please don't shout, so what happened after that?" you try to calm her down.

"What do you think, I got to the shoot and all that was left were shitty concepts, seriously, who the fuck thinks it's sexy to have a lemon in the middle of a t-shirt, they're going to laugh so hard at me for the pictures, I'm so ashamed, I left right after the shoot," she says as she stands up and faces you.

You can see the sadness in her eyes and you want to hug her and tell her that everything will be fine, but now that she's looking at you, you realise that she probably forgot to take off the famous shirt and with great regret you put a big smile on your face, almost on the verge of tears.

"No, darling, I'm sure it's a great shirt," you reply with difficulty.

"PAPA!!!, WHY ARE YOU SNIGGERING?" the young idol cries before following your eyes to her T-shirt, her face falling as she finally realises the reason, you're so sorry, but the situation is really too funny.

As you wipe your eyes you see your princess's blood red eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and she slaps you hard in the face "I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING DIE YOU AND MOM" before running into her room, 

For the second time in your life you feel that pain, the pain you feel when you hurt someone you love, just like your wife did 7 years ago. 

The pain on your cheek is almost non-existent, unlike the pain in your heart. You admit that Yuna has become very withdrawn since your wife's departure, and that your clumsiness with her has hurt her before, but never to this extent.

On the one hand, your authority has been challenged once again, and for the first time she's dared to raise a hand to you. On the other hand, there is a deep sadness that hurts you, but also makes you deeply regret your actions.

You hear your daughter's cries through the door and, with a feeble step, you knock on the door before entering.

"Baby....i'm so sorry" you see her lying on her bed, her head in her pillow, her crying stops when she raises her head and looks at you, her face is turned upside down, her make-up has run down her face. Seeing your child like that tears your heart out, even though you're responsible.

"Just go, just go like Mum, you don't even like me, do you? I'm ashamed of you, go and die," she said in a cold, mean tone.

"Baby... "Hearing these words from your little princess hurts and brings tears to your eyes, so you get down on your knees to continue your apology.

"Forgive me," you tell her as your tears begin to fall, Yuna continues to reject you and her words only drive nails into your feelings, you've surely done the irreparable and you decide to get up and leave her room.

You have ruined your last family relationship with the person who meant the most to you. 

"I'll bring you dinner later, just rest," you say in an emotionless tone as you grab the door handle to leave.

Your steps towards the living room are slow and your body heavy, only to suddenly hear someone running behind you, the door slamming against the wall, and feel your sweet daughter's body against your back as she tries to wrap her arms around you.

"PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME SORRY," the red one cries with all her hot tears.

You drop to your knees and take your only child in your arms and hold her close, her head is under your chin as she buries herself in your neck, you stroke her head with one hand while the other pats her back, her arms struggle to wrap around your waist but she clings tightly to you.

"I'm sorry darling, I'm sorry for everything, just let it go now, Daddy's here, I won't leave you, ever"

"Daddy, I'm sorry, I love you"

"I love you too, sweetheart"

You stay like this for many minutes before you plant a loving kiss on her forehead, a sign of your unconditional love for her. She's your treasure and the most important woman in your life.

Yuna's red eyes shine into yours and the young idol plants her lips on yours, the sensation is sweet and pleasant, you are morally in a dilemma, never in a million years would you have imagined kissing your daughter like this, but on the other hand you tell yourself that she's probably had too much rejection for today and is just trying to express her love for me. 

You allow your daughter to express her desires and she wraps her arms around your neck as you hold her kiss, her tongue meets yours in a first dance, the heat in the corridor rises as her body crashes against yours, you feel her small breasts against your chest and her perfume floods your nostrils.

"Yu..na," you try to stop her, tapping her shoulder as she literally tries to eat your lips.

The young idol slowly pulls back, leaving a trickle of drool between your two mouths. You see an incredibly sexy woman, her hair a mess, her breathing heavy and hot, her hands on your chest burning and her eyes devouring you like a hungry tigress.

"The redhead doesn't know what to say when she realises what she's done, her face turning scarlet as she rests her forehead on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault, are you tired?

She nods as you carry her to her room and tuck her into bed, one last kiss before sending your little princess off to dreamland.

"Good night, baby," you say to her as she seems to have gone far away.

.

.

.

The night was harder than expected, and after a light dinner you went to bed with your head still full of the events of the evening, a flurry of emotions running through your body and mind, and faster than you could have imagined, the morning light appeared through your window.

It's almost 7am and you're getting ready for a long day. As soon as you wake up, your body starts to show its age and it takes you a long time to get dressed and get out of your room and into the kitchen. You decide on a quick, simple breakfast of fried egg and rice, and with this morning's appointment, you'll be ready to go in no time, having filled up on vitamins for the day despite your fatigue. As you prepare this, you hear Yuna's bedroom door open and see your daughter come into the kitchen, still wearing her white T-shirt, but her beige trousers have been replaced by blue shorts.

"Morning dad," she says shyly.

"Hi honey, no schedule today?"

"Not this morning," she replies quickly, shaking her head.

Neither of you seem comfortable with the conversation and you do your best to avoid meeting her gaze and vice versa. You discreetly exchange glances and smiles, the redhead in front of you is beautiful and you find yourself ogling her.

You continue to prepare breakfast, making sure you have enough for your daughter. The only exchange you've had since is asking her if she wants a coffee, which she refuses. You see her hovering around the table as if she wants to talk, then she finally gets up and goes behind your back to the fridge.

Then you look back over your shoulder, feel Yuna's embrace around your waist as she buries her face in your back, feel the warmth of her breath again and put your hands on hers.

"Are you all right, darling?"

"I'm sorry dad, my head has been on fire since yesterday, my body has been on fire since I saw you this morning, I just wanted to tell you that I love you very much," she answers as she places kisses on your spine.

You feel the tenderness of her lips on your skin as Yuna gently lifts your work shirt, you say nothing, letting your daughter express her feelings as Yuna's gentle attacks send electric shocks down your back.

"Please look at me," she says as she forces you to turn around, pulling you by your hips until your bottom is resting on the edge of the kitchen counter, face to face with your daughter, who is staring at you for the first time this morning.

Her eyes were trembling and she asked you in a soft, frightened voice: "Tell me you love me, Daddy", while she pressed her body against yours. You felt her soft breasts against your chest and she put her hands on the back of your neck. Your daughter brings her lips to yours, her eyes closed, waiting for you to confirm your feelings.

At this point your morality as a father is the only obstacle standing in the way of this relationship, your daughter may not realise it but it is an immoral relationship waiting to happen, your daughter is still looking for a way to fill the hole in her heart, the love of her members doesn't seem to be working for her and now she is relying on you, her father, to give her what she needs, it is a difficult choice but you are letting yourself be swallowed by the devil, your daughter's happiness is what matters.

You cupped her cheek with one hand before pressing your lips to hers as Yuna melted under the pressure of her emotions, you rediscovered the sensation of love and laid your daughter on the counter while maintaining the kiss.

Your daughter is now sitting on the worktop, the difference in height bringing her face level with yours, she grabs the back of your hair to pull you towards her, her legs wrapped around your hips, your lips still locked as your tongues meet again.

When the seal is finally broken, both your breaths are heavy and noisy, each under the hypnosis of its own pleasure, while your eyes are full of sparkles and plunge into each other's. Your princess's eyes shed small tears, which you hastily wipe away with your finger before giving her a long kiss on the forehead.

Daddy, my heart is going to explode,' she says as she takes your hand to her breast with her t-shirt, the feeling is even better than you had imagined, her small breasts are firm and pleasant to touch, as you gently knead her breasts, the young woman makes little moans that express the pleasure she is receiving.

"Yuna... do you like what Daddy is doing?"

She nods "I want to feel your hand on my skin," she replies as she takes both your hands and places them under her t-shirt, right on her breasts.

"Do you like my lemons daddy? squeeze them hard please" Yuna's sexy face and her words echo in your brain as your hands work on her juicy fruit.

The tension in the room rises and you place your mouth on her little lemon, which you have been kneading for a few minutes, you attack her nipple with your tongue while you suck, hoping to suck something, you alternate your hands, now covered with little red spots, your daughter moans with pleasure and prevents you from withdrawing.

"Daddy, suck on them, play with my little lemons that you love so much, they're yours".

All this excitement had made you hot and a knot had formed in your trousers. Your lips left her two Susson-marked mounds and now attacked her defenceless neck, licking it from bottom to top, following her carotid artery and planting long kisses under her jaw, making her tremble before she gently pushed you away.

"Dad, let me take care of you too, I've been feeling your lump on my leg for a while now".

Your daughter begins to unbuckle your belt, then your trousers, until she can finally see your underpants and cock. Then your daughter puts her hand on the front of your briefs to rub your cock, and you see her other hand go down her shorts, probably to check the state of her briefs.

"I'm soaking wet, keep playing with my tits and come and touch me down there while I take care of you".

Your daughter's hand reaches through your shorts and grabs your cock to stroke it gently, on your side you slide one of your hands up her thigh to her panties and rub her slit directly against her skin, she's wet and you can feel a small bush above her entrance, you wiggle your fingers up and down, taking the opportunity to go back and kiss your princess who moans at your actions.

Yuna's technique isn't the best, but who can blame her, the poor thing is fighting against her own body and the way she arched her back as you delicately knocked on her pussy door, freeing her lips from your kiss, the young idol expressed with volume what she was feeling,

♥Hmm....♥Ah....Papa, continue ♥Hmm, ah....♥

Your daughter's moans are like music to your ears and she quickly lets you know that her orgasm is coming as your fingers begin to penetrate her pussy from the inside, you feel little spasms running down her body and her pussy dripping with wetness, as you pull your fingers out you see the deception in her eyes before devouring her with your mouth, forcing her to let go of your cock in the process. 

Your cock is extremely hard after Yuna's work but your pleasure is not your priority as your tongue slides up and down your daughter's slit, her juices are delicious and you suck them in to capture the taste of her naughty hole in your memory. Her grip on your thin hair is powerful and she blocks your head with her legs as you finally hear the release.

"Daddy, I'm going to come, it's happening, da..." before she can finish her own sentence, stopped by her pleasure, Yuna comes all over your now wet face and falls onto her back on the worktop.

"Are you OK, sweetie?" you ask her, a little worried as she suddenly falls backwards, the pressure of her legs freeing you and you see a close-up of your daughter lying on her back in front of you, her face red and wrung out, her hair falling in the air on the other side of the table, her breasts exposed and marked by your many hickeys and her pretty pink pussy that you've just finished devouring.

You grab both her hands and pull her towards you so that she's at your full height, then you take her in your arms as if you were comforting a small child.

"You're so hard daddy, you can do it if you want to," she says with a little hesitation and tired eyes, then you notice that your cock is at the same height as her pussy.

The choice seems obvious but at the same time you don't want to take it lightly and spoil the moment, the lack of time and place is not what you want to give your princess who is offering herself to you so you shake your head in refusal then plant a long kiss on her lips.

"Not now baby, another time," you reply as you start to pull away from her, only to feel her hand holding you back.

"At least let me make you feel better, I want to make you feel better too," she says as she grabs your cock and starts to jerk it like before.

"Do you like it when I rub your naughty cock? Why does a father turn on his daughter so much?" Yuna tries to be provocative to arouse you, but the tone is off and her lack of experience is glaring, you just smile under your daughter's true words.

Your orgasm builds as Yuna experiments with your cock, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible. You put your hands on her tits again and play with them, which doesn't seem to bother her, far from it.

.

.

"Daddy?"

.

.

"Yes, sweetie?

.

.

"You know ... if you want my lemons to give you their juice, you'll have to give me yours first," she said, pointing to her pussy.

The image crosses your mind, the image of a father and daughter kissing the fruit of their forbidden love, a father giving his love to his daughter and a daughter giving birth to that love, your excitement and shame explode as your cock comes to paint the lower part of your daughter's body, her pussy and thighs marked by your essence.

I'm sorry, I'll clean you up,' you say, looking for something to wipe your cum-filled daughter with.

"It's OK, I'll do it myself,' she says as she scoops up the white liquid and brings it to her mouth.

Any young man would have been revitalised to see such a beautiful woman collecting cum on her body, but your cock is now in a less than glorious state and you pull up your trousers, taking care to get dressed.

"It's almost time darling, I have to go," you tell her as you haven't eaten or slept well, it's going to be a long day.

"Wait," she replies as she approaches you, still naked, "don't forget my goodbye kiss," as she presses her lips hard against yours, then whispers, "we'll continue tonight, I love you.

Your body and mind may be in bad shape, but knowing your princess will be there for you tonight fills your heart with a feeling you've been missing.

Later, in your car on the way to work, you get a notification that someone you're following has just started a live stream, obviously it's Yuna, she's the only one you follow, you pick up the stream on the way, but enough to hear your daughter say

My favourite fruit? mhhhhhhhhhh that's a good question, I'll go with lemon, it's a sweet fruit like me and TMI, but my dad loves lemons'.

______________________________________________________________

[woso-story]

Babysitting

Esmee Brugts x Kika Nazareth x Caroline Graham Hansen x BabyMila

The sun was setting over Barcelona as the FC Barcelona women's team wrapped up their training session. The players gathered around the field, chatting and joking as they stretched.

"Ingrid, Mapi," one of their teammates called out, a teasing grin on her face, "when was the last time you two went on a proper date? You know, just the two of you?"

The question caught them off guard. Ingrid glanced at Mapi, who raised an eyebrow in silent communication. After a pause, Ingrid smiled sheepishly.

"Before Mila was born," she admitted.

The group burst into laughter. "That’s been seven months! You’ve got to get out, just the two of you."

Ingrid shook her head. "We just… we don’t feel right leaving Mila with someone we don’t know. During the day, she’s at the Barcelona daycare, so we’re close by if anything happens. But at night, leaving her with a stranger? No way."

Esmee and Kika exchanged a look. Then, in unison, they exclaimed, "What if it’s us?"

Mapi blinked. "You two? Babysitting?"

"Why not?" Kika said with a grin. "We love Mila, and we’re practically family. Come on, let us help you out!"

Ingrid and Mapi hesitated, glancing at each other. It was tempting, but they were still unsure.

"Come on," Esmee pleaded dramatically. "You two need a break. Let us do this!"

After several minutes of playful begging and persistent persuasion, Ingrid finally sighed. "Okay, fine. But if anything happens, call us immediately."

Esmee and Kika cheered, high-fiving each other as the rest of the team laughed.

---

Two days later, Esmee and Kika showed up at Ingrid and Mapi’s apartment, armed with snacks, toys, and an overabundance of confidence.

Ingrid was holding Mila, who was dressed in a soft pink onesie and clutching her favorite stuffed lion. Mapi was pacing, going over last-minute instructions.

"Her favorite toy is this lion," Mapi said, gesturing to the stuffed animal. "She likes her bottle warm, not too hot. And she just ate, so she shouldn’t be hungry for a while."

"Relax," Kika interrupted, reaching out to take Mila. "We’ve got this. Don’t worry about a thing."

Ingrid and Mapi exchanged a look, both reluctant to leave, but Esmee gently pushed them toward the door. "Go. Have fun. We’ll take great care of her."

With one last hesitant glance at their smiling daughter, Ingrid and Mapi finally left.

---

At first, things went smoothly. Mila was a little ray of sunshine, giggling as Esmee played peek-a-boo and Kika made funny faces. They set her on her play mat, where she happily babbled and reached for her toys.

"This is easy," Kika said confidently. "I don’t know what they were so worried about."

But as the evening wore on, Mila began to fuss. Her cheerful babbles turned to whimpers, and then to full-blown cries.

"Uh-oh," Esmee muttered, picking her up and rocking her gently. "What’s wrong, little one?"

"She’s probably hungry," Kika said, heading to the kitchen to prepare some homemade baby food Ingrid had left. She returned with a bowl and a spoon, smiling. "Here we go, Mila. Yum-yum time."

Mila, however, was not interested. She smacked the spoon out of Kika’s hand, sending baby food flying across the room—and onto Kika’s face.

Esmee burst out laughing. "She got you good!"

"Not funny," Kika grumbled, wiping food off her cheek.

They tried everything to calm Mila down—singing songs, dancing, showing her new toys—but nothing worked. Mila’s cries only grew louder, her little face red and tear-streaked.

"I think we should call Ingrid and Mapi," Esmee said, looking increasingly panicked.

"No way," Kika insisted. "We can handle this!"

Desperate, Esmee pulled out her phone and called Caroline.

---

Caroline arrived at Ingrid and Mapi’s apartment within fifteen minutes, her face a mix of concern and curiosity. When Kika opened the door, still sporting baby food on her face, Caroline couldn’t suppress a laugh.

"What happened here?" she asked, stepping inside.

The scene was chaos. The living room was littered with toys, the kitchen counters were sticky with baby food, and Mila was crying in Esmee’s arms.

"We’ve tried everything," Esmee said, her voice full of exasperation. "She just won’t stop crying!"

Caroline walked over. As soon as Caroline took Mila in her arms, the transformation was immediate. Mila’s loud, ear-piercing cries softened into tiny hiccups, and within seconds, she was quiet. Her little fists clutched at Caroline’s shirt as she nestled her head against her shoulder, her red face slowly returning to its usual soft pink.

Esmee and Kika stared in disbelief, their mouths hanging open.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Kika muttered, gesturing toward Mila. "She screamed like she was auditioning for a horror movie with us, and now she’s suddenly an angel?"

Esmee threw her hands up in exasperation. "We’ve been at this for hours! I sang, I danced, I even made up a story about her lion going on adventures. Nothing worked!"

Caroline smirked, gently bouncing Mila in her arms. "Maybe you just don’t have the touch."

Kika rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. What’s your secret? Do you have baby-whispering superpowers or something?"

Caroline chuckled, brushing a stray curl from Mila’s forehead. "No secret. Mila just knows quality when she sees it."

Esmee flopped onto the couch, groaning dramatically. "Unbelievable. I feel so unappreciated right now."

Caroline just laughed softly as Mila let out a contented sigh, already half-asleep against her shoulder. "You two might want to stick to cheering from the sidelines. Leave the babysitting to the pros."

Kika shook her head, still staring at Mila in astonishment. "This is so unfair."

With Mila now calm, Caroline helped Esmee and Kika clean up. They tidied the living room, scrubbed the kitchen, and restored the apartment to its usual neatness.

Caroline then took Mila to her nursery. She changed her into a fresh onesie, laid her in her crib, and placed her stuffed lion in her arms. Mila hugged the toy tightly and fell asleep almost immediately.

When Caroline returned to the living room, she found Esmee and Kika passed out on the couch, completely exhausted. Caroline chuckled, just as Ingrid and Mapi walked in.

"Caro?" Mapi asked, looking surprised.

Caroline grinned and explained what had happened, from the baby food incident to Mila’s eventual peace.

Ingrid laughed, shaking her head. "So now we have three sleeping kids in the apartment."

Mapi grabbed a blanket and covered Esmee and Kika. Then she and Ingrid peeked into Mila’s room, smiling at their peacefully sleeping daughter.

"Thank you," Ingrid said to Caroline as they walked her to the door.

"Anytime," Caroline replied with a wink. "But maybe next time, skip the amateurs."

As Caroline left, Ingrid and Mapi finally went to bed, their hearts full of gratitude for their little chaotic but loving community.

[theshadowslove-if]

The Shadows' Love

DEMO TBA | Description of the ROs

Synopsis:

Welcome to The Shadows' Love, a game full of magic and romance!

Step into the world of Iriecester which has no light, only shadows and darkness. Every being in the realm has a curse, a condition placed on them to balance out the magic flowing beneath their veins. And yet, they still have the joy of being alive, their realm thriving like never before.

Play as a Yonuthia (a shadow being) and pick whether you have advanced powers or basic powers and what curse you were born with. Enjoy the rich history of Iriecester and its culture, dance with the shadows and feel their kind touch.

Features:

Play as a man, woman, or a nonbinary person. Choose your appearance in terms of hair, height, body type, and more.

Choose what type of magic you have and your curse. Navigate the world with the curse at your heels and keep the curse sated (if you can sate it) to keep your powers.

Romance six characters and get cute and emotional snippets of their personalities with the choices you pick!

Experience the realm's culture by dancing with the shadows and eating native food. You can even visit the city where the non-humanoid beings live!

Possibly communicate with the omniscient void which provides you with the powers you enjoy?

This WIP is 18+ due to content such as: (optional) sex scenes, drowning, death, grief, bestiality, and more that will be added as the game goes on.

Romance Options:

>The King, Orinothicor (M):

Orinothicor has the burden of the entire realm of his shoulders, coronated as king as soon as he was birthed from The Neximor. He's terrifying and yet breathtaking at the same time, a man who does not relax—not even for his adult children. Can he relax or is he just meant to be a stern king?

>The Princess, Lerdadicor (F):

Lerdadicor is not only one of Orinothicor's children and princess of the realm, but she is also the general of the realm's army. She can be kind but also temperamental, easily switching to anger if she sees injustice, or if someone is just plain rude for no reason. There's a longing to her, a hole that was once filled but now is empty.

>The Monster of Iriecester, Sashithia (M):

Sashithia is the only Yonuthia hybrid to be born from a humanoid Yonuthia and a non-humanoid Yonuthia. For this reason, he is ostracized, vilified simply for the circumstances of his birth. But are appearances all that matter?

>The Thief, Aesalrith (M):

Aesalrith is the leader of the Dravivors, a band of convicted thieves who turned bounty hunters for the king in order to escape prison time. He is bold and he is loud, loving to test the limits of his king and those around him. Is he as carefree as he seems or is there something deeper under the surface?

>The Forgotten One, Bredadith (M):

Bredadith is the Hexiltor's bodyguard and he is the only Yonuthia to ever survive a dip in Iriecester's only source of water, the river Grithior. Circumstances of his life before the dip in the river are unknown and he seems to only live now to protect the Hexiltor, even with his blindness. Perhaps he can be shown how joyful life is when someone is finally looking at him.

>The Second-in-Command, Erakithia (F):

Erakithia is Aesalrith's right-hand woman and while she's a ray of sunshine in a realm full of darkness, she's more soft-spoken than her boss. She knows when to quiet down and let peace wash over her, a trait many like in her. There's a wistful presence to her, a faraway look in her eyes when she talks of her adventures.

[asheepinfrance]

i wrote this with futile devices in mind but i don't think that really shows. i don't think it matters cause i think this one's silly. there's not much of a plot, this is just sorta a day in patrick's life after moving back in, in my mind a week or so post-new rochelle. i hope you like it. as always, feel free to leave any thoughts, critiques, etc. in the comments, should you have any advice on where to improve. thank you <333

The sun rose an hour ago, and Patrick woke with it, whether or not he wanted to. He can blame Tashi for the disturbance, because apparently she’d been the one to choose the thin, white curtains that are doing absolutely nothing to block out the rays of sunshine threatening to make him actually do something with his day. He’d rather not, really, when it’s better to curl up and pretend nothing is real besides the warmth of his blanket for another few hours. Eventually, Tashi and Art join the sensory input keeping him from sleep. He’s not even comfortable anymore, too leggy and curled up to fit onto their couch properly, but he can’t make himself move. He likes that he knows they’re looking at him, learning to watch him exist again. Learning to be comfortable with him the way they used to be. 

It’s quite easy, actually, to get comfortable again. He hasn’t changed in too many ways, though there’s an air about him that hadn’t been there in their younger years. Whether that came with age, a natural maturation, or their absence they weren’t sure. They’d feel less guilty about the former, though. Tashi’s holding a mug in both hands, the warmth slightly stinging at her palms, heating the metal of her wedding ring up. She watches Art watch Patrick, who shifts slightly to cover his face with the throw blanket they’d lent him. How he’d ended up staying the night at their hotel the first time was unclear. Now, here he is, curled into the couch of their actual home, acting as Dad #2 for Lily when she and Art are training, and switching off when she finally gives in and coaches Patrick a bit. She’s sure her mother appreciates the break. 

She laughs through her nose, her shoulders bouncing with it, and the sound, or lack thereof, breaks Art from his trance. “Has he always been this deep a sleeper?”, she asks like she doesn’t know the answer. Art drums his fingers against the marble countertop, a satisfying, rhythmic wave created by just some skin and bone. She wishes she could be an artist in that way, just moving her body and making something worth seeing. She used to have that. “I don’t know, it’s been a long time”, he shrugs, sniffles a little bit. They both know that he won’t move until about 12 in the afternoon, just like he always had done.

Patrick “wakes” to Tashi’s eyes level with his, and he can’t imagine why she’d kneel for him of all people, and just for the sake of greeting him. The roles should be reversed and he knows it, Art probably knows it from wherever he’s watching this display from. He feels a bit like a child with the way she speaks to him, airy and soft like he’s delicate. He isn’t entirely aware that he is. “Hey… you sleep ok?” He grunts when he sits up, a noticeable ache in the muscles of his lower back that her gaze immediately falls to, her lips pulling down the slightest bit. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like for that disapproving of hers to be born out of concern. “You know you can always sleep in the guest room, right?” He shakes his head, waves his hand somewhere in her direction to signal disapproval, and she doesn’t really understand why he won’t take the easy way out. After all, isn’t Patrick known for it? But he thinks he hasn’t earned it yet. He has to make Tashi and Art remember he’s sweet, that he can be a better man than he’d shown himself to be, because no one loves a man who only wins for himself, and then again he rarely wins at all. Everyone loves a selfless champion, so no one could quite love him. So he needs them to remember he values their attention so deeply that just knowing the layout of their house now, watching them exist and love one another, knowing the name of their preferred coffee, that’s enough for him. He isn’t sure whose approval it is that he needs more at this point.

Patrick’s favorite part of the day, or at least, part of the day to himself, has become showering. He remembers the first night, back at the hotel in New Rochelle, he’d watched dirt he hadn’t known existed run off of his skin in that warm water and he felt new. He felt clean and pure and cried like a baby, curling onto that cold, tile shower floor. He only snapped back into his own body when Art had knocked on the door after an hour, fearing Patrick had fallen. Patrick isn’t sure why he let Art come in, shakily voicing his consent through the unlocked door, considering his state, but Art didn’t mind. He minded so little that he kneeled at Patrick’s side, still clothed, and held him through it. He ignored the shirt now sticking to his skin, the inevitable heaviness of wet denim, and let Patrick fall into him like he’d needed to for 13 years. His awe at consistent availability of warm water hasn’t run off, and he can’t get out until the jack-and-jill bathroom mirrors have fogged up with steam, and he lets himself hope for a bit that his toothbrush will join theirs in that little cup in between the two sinks. 

When he watches Lily later that day, sitting on his knees to watch her intently draw on a sheet of yellow construction, she doesn’t seem to notice the weight of her words when she says, “You know, Mama and Dad haven’t been fighting so much now that you’re here.” She’s like Tashi in that sense, not knowing that every little thing she does has everyone’s heart aching. He can’t help the little scoff that comes out, more from disbelief rather than annoyance, and Lily just goes back to scribbling on her paper. “Whatcha drawing, kid?” He asks, forcing himself to change the topic and not wallow in something sickening and sweet in front of this little girl he’s still finding his way around interacting with. She pushes the paper towards him, and when he flips it over, he finds four disproportionately drawn figures, two tall men, one woman with two lines for hair, and a smaller girl furthest right. He decides then and there he’s going to hang it on the fridge, and wonders when he got so comfortable so as to feel he can make an imprint on their home. Even one so small as paper placed on the fridge with a magnet.

At night, a time that comes with a star-riddled sky, after Lily’s been put to bed and Patrick insisted on washing the dishes leftover from dinner, he finds himself staring at a small family photo on their wall. Art, Tashi, and Lily, clearly younger then, on some sunny patch of grass. He wonders what life would be like had he been there, what their walls would look like if they had traces of him, too. He feels like it’d sully their image. Selfishly, he hopes they wouldn’t mind that hit to their reputation. Maybe he hopes they actively choose to endure it. It’s late now, Tashi and Art’s voices carrying quietly from their bedroom, and he knows he won’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep anymore because he was happy, and he’d become accustomed to only dropping from sheer exhaustion. From a brain shutting down purely because it couldn’t withstand consciousness anymore. He feels like a child awoken from a nightmare when he knocks at their door, blanket draped over his shoulder, twiddling his thumbs, asking if he can sleep in their room. He insists it’s just for the night, they insist they wouldn’t mind if it was for longer than that. He tucks himself between the two of them as carefully as he can, avoiding Tashi’s knee at all costs, though he knows it’s years past being healed. They don’t do anything but touch him, a natural press from lack of space, warm breath to goosebump prickled skin, and he has to force himself not to cry, laugh, moan. He just closes his eyes and lets himself melt. He thinks if he lets his eyes close long enough, melt enough, he’ll fuse into them. Maybe that’s what he needs.

[ninadove]

Lukadrinette kids

Because I can. Enjoy these silly little thoughts.

📝 General notes:

Marinette, aka Maman, started out as a very successful and very stressed out fashion designer. She ends up retiring at 35 to take over the bakery and finally learn to chill (it’s going… better than expected).

Luka, aka Papa, is a guitarist with a very niche following and is perfectly happy with that. He’s very present in his kids’ lives and the easiest parent to open up to, because of course he is.

Adrien, aka Dad, is the stay-at-home parent and could not be more stoked. And scared. Someone help them

Emma and Hugo are twins, but look nothing like each other, which baffled Adrien and Felix when they were born; Adrien will never admit it, but he was a tiny bit disappointed they weren’t identical.

To help the kids connect with their heritage, their parents speak French, English and Mandarin Chinese at home. Despite it all, Louis’ first words were a full sentence in Japanese — more on that later.

It’s very common for French kids to have two “middle names” (deuxième et troisième prénoms), so I have planned accordingly. Enjoy!

🐍 Emma

Her full name is Emma Sentibug Alya Dupain-Cheng. Adrien would not have it any other way.

She’s the oldest by five minutes and she takes it very seriously. Too seriously, even.

Emma inherited Gabriel’s grey eyes, which will have no influence on her perception of herself at all, no sir.

Like Marinette, she feels responsible for protecting everyone and everything around her, which is why she was blacklisted from using the Ladybug Miraculous before she reached the tender age of five.

As luck would have it, she ended up with the Snake, which is even worse for her mental health. For maximum dramatic irony, I think I’ll call her superheroine persona Aspik.

Aroace and sad. It’s already hard enough to be aspec as it is, but given the importance romance played in her parents’ lives… you get the point.

🦋 Hugo

Aka Hugo Felix Tom Dupain-Cheng. Yes, Felix cried upon learning his name. A lot.

🎶 Bi bi bi bi BI 🎶

Inherited Mari’s talent for arts and crafts and Adrien’s dramatics. Despite being very similar to them both, he often finds it difficult to talk to them.

Uncle Felix, however, is his absolute favourite adult in the world, and regularly knocks some sense into him.

Adrien and Nino were so excited for their sons to be besties! So naturally they hate each other’s guts

They end up kissing about it, though, so it’s fine.

Butterfly holder. Very purple 💜

🐈‍⬛ Louis

Aka Louis Nino Jules (after Juleka)

Because twins were a lot to handle, Louis only came along six years later.

When he doesn’t get his way, he turns petulant and grumpy, which makes him Plagg’s absolute favourite. Luka finds it endearing and jokes that they rub off on each other. This stresses Adrien out, though, as he fears it might be an early sign of Gabriel Behaviour.

The truth is that Louis just has these huge feelings that he doesn’t know how to handle… and you know who relates to this? KAGAMI. She’s the only one who can get him to calm down once he starts crying. She will pick him up, he will cling to her jacket and suck on his thumb, and she will carry on with the conversation as if nothing happened.

Originally Very Small, he gets a HUGE growth spurt and ends up built like Tom, which is very unusual for Cat holders.

🐞 Sabine

Aka Sabine Amelie Rose

The surprise baby of the bunch. She looks just like her grandma Sabine!

A total ray of sunshine. Also very gay.

As the youngest and eventual holder of the Ladybug Miraculous, she triggers Mari’s overprotective tendencies the most. Adrien actually had to step up and get her to back off as it was starting to stir up bad memories.

Because Rose was very ill when the twins and Louis were young, she and Juleka didn’t get to watch them as much as she would have liked. They made up for it by spoiling their younger niece beyond reason.

The most musically inclined of the kids. Her love for punk rock and metal clashes hard with her cutesy vibes. Rose couldn’t be prouder. 💖

[awillowdancingonair]

“a soul that’s born in cold and rain- knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight”

Castin x Baroness! (Desmond Asmr)

TW: Scars, cause it’s Castin. A tiny bit suggestive, cause once again, it’s Castin.

Prompt: tracing scars

Summary: When Castin wakes up one morning, he isn’t faced with the empty bed he’s grown accustomed to many times before, due to his wife’s busy schedule. Instead, his wife is there; and awake already. She’s quietly tracing the scars on his chest and arms, ones from all the battles he’s been in. How will Castin react to this morning surprise?

Tags: @themonotonysyndrome thank you so much for all your kind words, discussing Castin and all that has been so much fun!! You’re truly an inspiration.

As Castin’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing he saw was sunlight. The rays of morning light filtered in through the windows of his room, casting a warm glow on all the rooms items. He let out a long sigh, mentally preparing himself for another long day of training. But for a moment, he relished in the quiet ambience of the morning. Birds cooed and chirps outside of his bedroom window, a light breeze rustled trees outside, he could even hear some of his men training already in a field a ways off.

A part of him wished his wife, the Baroness, could be here with him. He desperately wanted more time with her- as he always did. But at the same time, he knew how important the work she was doing would be to the growth of, well, everything.

A lazy smile crossed his face as he pictured his wife. He knew she was probably nose deep in a pile of work at this point. Over the past few months, he’d tried to pop in to check on her once in a while. Often, he was shooed out, with her fussing about needing to work and that he had things he needed to attend to as well. But occasionally, she’d let him stay. When this rare event happened, he would lounge on one of the chairs in her office, mentally grumbling about how uncomfortable it was, and would pick something to focus on. Sometimes it was a book that the Baroness had long finished, other times it was a map that had been marked up. But what the Baroness was unaware of, was that the items Castin would choose were merely things for his hands to fidget with. When he was in her presence in those times, his focus would always be on her. He loved watching the way her dress would sway as she bustled around the room, the way her nimble fingers would race over her paperwork, the way her eyes focused when she read the work. One of the things he loved most was the way he could practically see the wheels in her head turning as she thought long and hard.

As much as he loved these moments, he also missed having more quiet ones. Relaxed ones, with just the two of them.

His eyes opened again as he realized he’d begun to drift off as he thought. He blinked a few times, trying to keep himself awake. Only in doing so, as his senses finally awoke, he realized there was a hand laying on his arm. Not just a hand, fingers too.

His head shot to the side, eyes wide and expectant. His gaze softened as he saw his wife there, bathed in the golden glow of sunshine.

“Sweetheart- what? Shouldn’t you be working right now? You’ve literally never once slept in, do I need to call the doctor, babe?” he asked, his full attention on you. A slight smile tugged at the sides of his lips but there was a look of worry in his eyes as he scanned your face for any answer.

“No, Castin, I didn’t sleep in,” the Baroness replied with a roll of her eyes and a chuckle emitting softly from her throat, “I cleared my schedule for today. I’m going to spend it with my husband,”

Castin just blinked, taking in the calm smile that coated his wife’s face. She was serious.

“You’re joking, right, babe?” he asked.

He paused for a moment, taking in the sight in front of him, trying to comprehend that: yes, his wife really had made the time to spend the day with him. He took a second to take her in. The way the light was shining off her hair, the way the golden glow of the morning looked on her skin, how the sheets of their bed looked pressed against her.

He let out a hearty, happy chuckle.

“Well, if that’s the view I get to see all day then,” he made a whistling sound while he exhaled, eyes raking over your body, “Then by all means,” he leaned closer to you, a mischievous smile planting itself on his face, “Count me in,”

“Castin!” the Baroness laughed lightly and gently pushed Castin away, ignoring his playfulness. “I was enjoying relaxing with you, to be honest.”

Castin looked at his wife with a tender expression. And the two settled into a comfortable silence. The Baroness moved closer to him, and Castin took this as his cue to lift his arm up, allowing the Baroness to move closer, draping an arm across his chest.

The pair laid like this for a while, enjoying the happiness of the morning. Castin was unsure if his wife had fallen back asleep, but a question was persistent in his mind.

“Sweetheart?” he asked. He felt the Baroness’s head lift slightly against the crook of his arm.

“Hmm?” she hummed lazily, a quietness in her voice he hadn’t often heard. Her eyes were still closed, looking as if she was drifting on the brink of sleep. Her eyelashes rested softly on her cheek. She looked beautiful.

“What did you do before I woke up?”

The Baroness propped herself up lightly, looking up at her husband while blinking away her lingering drowsiness.

“This,” she said, as she rested her head on one of her hands, and began tracing a faint scar on Castin’s chest.

Castin looked at her- confused- for a good second before he understood what she was doing with her finger on his chest.

“Oh..,” he said eyes widening, “Why..why are you doing that, babe?”

A nervous laugh accompanied his words. Upon hearing his hesitant tone, her hand retracted.

“I’m sorry, I was-“ she began, feeling confused and a bit embarrassed. She had never been the best at expressing affection, and when she had awoken, and seen the scars that decorated his skin, she had felt a strange urge to trace those lines of his past. But as she spoke, she was cut off abruptly.

“No- no. You’re good. You’re good. I just-,” his hand rose and ruffled his dark hair, his eyes crossed the room as he took a breath, “No one’s done that before. It…it hit pretty close to home.”

His hand gently rose from his side, placing her hand back on his chest softly. His wife’s finger reached for one of the scars, and she looked up at him, waiting patiently for an unspoken permission. Castin looked at his wife tenderly and gave a nod, a love struck smile beginning to creep on his face. Seeing the gentle look in his eyes, and looking down at how the light from the rising sun shone on his chest, her finger landed softly on one of the scars.

“Yeah, go ahead, babe. I’m all yours,” he said with a relaxed breath.

The Baronesses finger started to move along the faint light line on his skin, from what she assumed was a strike of a sword. After she had traced the mark multiple times, her finger quickly found another one. This one was more obvious.

“If you don’t mind my asking, Castin, how did you get this one?” she said quietly. Castin’s head tilted slightly in response to her question, thinking.

“One of my first training days, actually. Yeah, me and the rest of the men got pretty banged up. No sweat though, it’s all good now sweetheart, I’ve got you,” he replied, kissing the top of the Baronesses head lovingly.

The Baroness continued, gently pressing kisses to some of them. Castin laid there, exposed in what felt like more ways than one. Yes, his body was sprawled on the bed, basking in the warmth of the morning; but there was a vulnerability and an intimacy to what the Baroness was doing. One that he hadn’t felt before. Yes, he’d been with women. But none of them had done this. None of them had gazed lovingly at his scarred body, tracing her fingers lightly upon them with a gentleness and comfort that it felt like it could only be a gift from the Goddess herself. None of them had pressed their sweet lips to the marks of his past, tracing the lines as if she could relieve him of all past pain. All while she too was lying on their shared bed, body intertwined with his. He knew his wife was a busy woman. That wasn’t hard to figure out. But in these moments, moments where she too let down her guard and in the process just brought his down more, he felt truly whole. Being without her would be the greatest wound he could ever receive now. Not any battle injury, not any training mistake, nothing. He had seen ugliness in the world, hell, he’d witnessed it first hand. He’d been a part of bloody and dangerous battles, gone on spine-chilling missions, seen people die and his own friends die with them. His mother had been killed by war.

Yet in this moment, despite the cold and rain that had been his life, he could only feel sunshine. A content joy, rays of sunlight filtering through clouds, like the beams that covered him and his wife at that very moment.

“How did you get this one, dear?” his wife asked, shaking him out of his thoughts. He adjusted to turn towards her more, smiling to himself. In the Baronesses eyes, it was one that rivaled the sun itself. He was the sun in her world too.

“Well, it was one of my first battles..,” and Castin continued on, telling her the tale of how he had earned that one. His tales continued all throughout the morning. Laughter and tears would follow, filling the walls of the room with the rest of the light from the sun as it finally finished rising.

In the midst of all the dark of the world, the two had found each other, exposed each other’s scars, and made sunlight out of their lives.

“A soul that’s born in cold and rain- knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight” -Sunlight by Hozier

[katuschka]

Out On The Tiles – Prologue

Jake Kiszka x Chris Turpin Josh Kiszka x Chris Turpin

Yaaay, my first AU! Welcome to the 70s rock&roll hell, baby...

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings – this story will contain: substance abuse, infidelity, debauchery, same sex smut, hetero smut, rough sex, and as always, an unhealthy dose of heavy emotions and feelings

Special thanks to: @thewritingbeforesunrise and her genius, twisted mind that helped me form this story in my own sick brain.

If you like the story and want to get notifications, you can join the Taglist.

AND if you already received the notif, but you're not interested in this particular story, just send me a message.

I'm just a simple guy, I live from day to day A ray of sunshine melts my frown and blows my blues away There's nothing more that I can say but on a day like today I pass the time away and walk a quiet mile with you All I need from you is all your love All you got to give to me is all your love

Prologue

1994 was an eventful year for the Kiszka twins. After years of unsuccessful attempts to launch respectful solo projects they could build upon after the infamous breakup of their band, they had been finally labelled as “has-beens of rock” when grunge hit the mainstream, only to rise up again like a phoenix from the dust of their once stellar career. 

Josh and Jake, THE ultimate enfants terrible of the 70s rock&roll music scene. Angel-faced devils, as they were called. 

It was no longer true, but it kept haunting them anyway. How could it not.

Born to free-thinking parents who never made it to Frisco with the other beatniks, but instead decided to “settle down” in a small town in Michigan after their mother became pregnant, they were raised – together with their younger brother Samuel – in what you could call a “respectful neighborhood”. But everything was different behind the closed doors, as their parents never grew out of love for art, music and literature. 

Their mother was not only a wonderful and respected teacher, but she could also bake devilishly good sweet treats, so the neighbors somehow “tolerated” the fact that she often indulged in painting “weird pictures.” 

Their father played the piano in church on Sundays, while their own house was filled with the sound of delta blues, bebop and rockabilly on Friday nights. 

Even as young kids, they never had to hide their passion for the new music made by Elvis and Chuck and Little Richard. In fact, their father encouraged it, together with their attempts to learn how to play and write their own stuff. Their longing to create was inextinguishable, partly inherited and wholeheartedly shared, so by mid sixties, they were already in a band. Their band, which they founded together with Sam’s friend, a talented percussionist from the school orchestra. And a cool kid, too. 

After the wave of new British bands hit the US coast like a tsunami, invading the music scene as well as their own ears, they finally found their own sound and everything snowballed pretty quickly during 1968 and 1969. They got signed, they hit the road and their career literally exploded! Air Javelin were on their way to become one of the most influential bands in rock&roll history. 

Fast forward back to 1994, they now found themselves sitting next to David Letterman, eager and ready to discuss their new mutual music project. 

It was good. In fact, it was great, already receiving many well-deserved accolades and praises from the very same people and magazines who used to shit on their music more than two decades ago. 

The only problem being that they were probably the only people who were eager and ready to discuss it at the moment. 

Josh’s recent coming-out was already old news and the questions that focused on that grew stale pretty quickly. It was the 90s after all, and things were getting better slowly but steadily. If anything, it made the message he managed to lace their new music with even more acute and sharp. The first single was a huge success not only among their old fans; it hit the charts with nearly the same force their old hits once did. 

Unfortunately, two weeks after the long-awaited release of the whole album, a book appeared on shelves of bookstores all across the country, and turned into a sensation almost overnight. 

Written by their former road manager Robert Mole, it was packed with juicy and scandalous stories from their heyday. The timing was deliberate. Robert just wanted a piece of the freshly baked cake, and so did the publisher. 

A lot of it had already been somewhat known, and perceived as public secrets for years and years. People may not have known all the details Robert decided to disclose, but it shocked no one. Those were the stories and anecdotes from a long-gone era. EVERYONE was already familiar with the infamous octopus story anyway, even though no one knew what really happened that day. That was the beauty of it. And as Jake already said in another interview, Robert had spent most of those days either drunk or high, often both, so a lot of the shit mentioned in that book was simply made up or blown out of proportion.

So, when Letterman asked about the contents of the book again, Jake replied nonchalantly: “Let’s put it this way, David. I can’t remember half of it, and neither can he!”

The audience laughed, but the host did not give up. 

There was one more story, one that they had managed to keep hidden, but which kept haunting them because it was extremely and painfully personal. Like a cold sore, it would never go away. It was also the reason why Sam still refused to speak with either of them.

They used to like Robert; he was once regarded and treated almost as a sixth member of the group. However, the fact that he decided to include this in the book turned him into an unscrupulous piece of shit in their eyes. 

Back in the day, when their heads were so big it was a wonder that they didn’t float above their shared stage, they thought no one could possibly push them out of their pedestal. But new bands appeared, some of them equally good. Bands such as the British wonder Mellow Yellow, with their charismatic, blonde frontman…

“Alright, alright,” Letterman raised his voice before the applause died down completely. “But I’m sure EVERYONE wants to know the truth behind those accusations that the real reason why Air Javelin split up was the affair you BOTH had with the late Chris Turpin.”

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep   @takenbythemadness   @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @josh-iamyour-mama @lyndz2names @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @cheersdannyx2 @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @clownstarr @gretasfallingsky @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @psychedelectable @allof--mylove @sacredsparrow

[women-in-ssports]

FOREVER AND A DAY

CHAPTER 4: Varsity

Surprise at the end bc of how short it is. Moving more into the actual story now.

---

PAIGE POV

Walking into the gym today felt... different. More real. Way more nerve-wracking. And it 100% had to do with the fact that Paige and Azzi were going to be practicing with Varsity.

Azzi wasn’t here yet, and Paige was trying not to look too eager, but she couldn’t help it—she’d already scanned the gym three times, each time hoping to catch a glimpse of those two signature braids. She didn’t know why, but the thought of practicing with Azzi... it felt good. Almost too good.

Finally, the door opened, and there she was. Azzi, with her dimples and braids, slipping in behind Caroline like a ray of sunshine.

"Hey Az!" Paige called, bounding over with a grin so wide it felt like it might break her face.

Azzi looked up, a smile instantly spreading across her face. "Hey P, you ready for today?"

Paige flexed her arm as if to show off—mostly just to make Azzi laugh. "Born ready, Az."

"Alright, ladies!" Coach barked from the sideline. "Let's start with a warm-up together, and then split off into the Varsity and Junior Varsity groups to start practice."

Coach turned away, and Paige joined the warm-up line, trying to focus on stretching and loosening up for what was sure to be an intense practice.

Once they split into their groups, it was impossible to miss how well Azzi and Paige fit into Varsity. Every time they worked together, the ball found the net. It was like second nature, and they clicked instantly.

By the end of practice, Paige was buzzing. She didn’t even care whether she officially made Varsity—playing alongside Azzi felt like everything. The connection was undeniable, and she was already counting the days she’d get to do it again.

As the team gathered, Azzi and Paige made their way to their friends. Caroline was grinning from ear to ear. "Y’all were killing it over there!"

"Seriously," Aubrey chimed in, "there’s no way Coach doesn’t put you on Varsity after that." Ice added with a wink, "If she doesn't, I will."

The group laughed, the kind of laugh that made Azzi feel like everything was right in the world.

Just as they started to head out, Coach called Azzi over. Paige's eyes instinctively drifted to where Coach was pointing across the court, then back to Azzi’s face—wide-eyed, nervous. Without thinking, Paige reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You got this, Az."

AZZI POV

"Yes, Coach," Azzi replied, her voice steady, though her nerves were beginning to kick in.

Coach gave her a long look before speaking. "Azzi, as you know, there’s never been a freshman on Varsity. While you’ve shown some impressive potential these last two days, we’re still a little concerned about your playing time. But with the season starting soon, we’ve got some scrimmages and a few tournaments lined up, and we’d like to bring you along to see how you perform in a game setting."

Azzi’s heart skipped a beat. A chance. A real chance.

"This doesn’t guarantee any playing time, but it’s an opportunity to show us what you’ve got with the Varsity girls. How does that sound?"

Without hesitation, Azzi nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Of course, thank you."

And then, before she could stop herself, she added, "What about Paige?"

Coach’s eyes narrowed for a second before she answered, her tone professional. "I’m about to speak with her, too."

Azzi felt a weight lift from her chest. Paige was going to get the same chance.

As Azzi turned to join her friends, she heard Coach call out for Paige. She caught her eye and offered a quick, reassuring smile, hoping Paige could see it through the noise of the gym. She couldn’t hear everything Coach said, but she caught the words *tournaments* and *reevaluate from there*—and that was enough.

Thank God.

---

A Few Weeks Later

"Wait, who?!" Azzi squealed. "You like him? The guy from the Boys Varsity team? But he’s a senior!"

Nika practically yelled, "I have to admit, you two would make a cute couple!"

Ice, ever the pragmatist, shrugged and added with a teasing grin, "True. You two would definitely look cute together."

Paige turned bright red, her hand quickly swiping across her face. "Guys, I don’t even know yet. It’s just one date. I’ll let you know how it goes."

But her friends weren't having it. They crowded around her, bombarding her with questions and teasing her relentlessly.

Paige sighed, shaking her head with a smile that was half embarrassed, half exasperated. "Seriously, stop. We’ll see how it goes. It is just one date, and who knows if it’ll even turn into anything."

As she finished speaking, Paige lowered her gaze to her lap, taking a moment for herself or was she just trying to to catch Azzi eyes

[r0mantic-f00l]

quite a sweet one for james! actually don't mind it

Secret Admirer

Pink and red was in every shop, hearts in every window and along the ceilings, couples walking hand in hand as they giggled and hushed secrets and stopped randomly on the pavement to kiss their partner as if it was a necessity.

You rolled your eyes at it all. Valentines Day was not a truly real holiday. It was created by companies that wanted to exploit society for more money because they knew they would get away with if because of course, people obsess over anything to do with love.

People cry at romance films, though the plots are always so predictable, people smile at the sight of red roses, though they are just flowers like every other flower, people scream their lungs out to the sound of love songs, though they are just a cacophony of drums and guitar and pitch singing.

You hated Valentines Day. Everyone would always claim it was because you were single for every Valentines Day since the day you were born. But no, that wasn't the case. You just hated it. No particular resson as to why. No reason why you scoffed at people giving chocolates and sneaking love letters into bags, whilst you felt slightly disappointed when you searched through your bag (for no reason, of course) and discovered no letters, no chocolates, no flowers.

Valentines Day was also created to make single people feel bad, you proclaimed.

But I'm single too, some of your friends would say. I'm single and I don't mind Valentines Day, they emphasised in an annoyingly cheery tone.

You rolled your eyes at them too.

For some perplexing reason, a golden ray of sunshine with the name of James Potter found you endearing whenever it was close to Valentines Day. He would smile when you rolled your eyes at couples, he would laugh when you purposely shoved your way through kissing couples on the pavement, he would frown as you searched through your bag only to find nothing.

He liked you. He really liked you. And when James Potter liked someone, it wasn't just a crush, no, it was borderline infatuation. His poor friends were stuck listening to his incessant rambling of how adorable you looked when you pouted, how beautiful you could still be even as you glared, how the sound of your voice could be so heavenly as you told couples to move out of your way.

It was nice, really, to hear James gush over you, but it was starting to become grating, especially when the only way his sentences would start was "Do you know what she did today?"

He was such a hopeless romantic. He knew that, he had no shame in it. So he decided to slip little notes for you into your bag when you weren't looking, then eventually he began to drop bars of your favourite chocolate in there too.

He even went as far as to decorate the tables in the Great Hall with your favourite flower, resulting in a detention when he was caught by a first-year and ultimately was ratted out to Professor McGonagall, who had given him a detention that same day (she did let the boy leave early when he apologised and called her 'Minnie').

Valentines Day had finally arrived and you woke up with a fury.

If that person who had been mercilessly pranking you with stupid loves notes and stupid delicious chocolate and stupid beautiful flowers would do it all again, you were convinced you would murder the prankster (well, maybe not murder them, but certainly you would have given them a hard time through the rest of the school year in Hogwarts).

You stomped passed couples who were exchanging gifts, some exchanging spit, as you made your way into the Great Hall, only to see your favourite flowers everywhere; on the tables, somehow hanging in the transparent ceiling, and even on the Head Table where teachers grumbled at the sight but nevertheless let a little smile show.

You stopped in your tracks and groaned before storming out again, failing to notice James Potter standing by your self-designated seat with a chocolate hamper he had made himself the previous night.

You made your way to the library where you were safe, plopping yourself down and resting your head on the table as you sighed, your frustration clearly to any passerby.

"Well, someone's not in a good mood," Marlene, who you had become good friends with, sat beside you, smirking when you lifted your head with a scowl on your face.

"Is it the Valentines Blues?" She teased.

"No." You mumbled.

"It's something else entirely."

"What is it then?" Marlene inquired, resting her head on her hand as she prepared herself for your typical 'I hate Valentines Day rant'.

"This moron has been pranking me over these last couple of weeks." You answered.

Immediately, Marlene's mind drifted to Sirius Black.

"How so?"

"Well, they've been placing these stupid love notes in my bag," You pulled out a handful of notes and smacked them onto the table, ignoring the glares of other students nearby.

"And chocolates. And flowers in the Great Hall!"

Marlene picked up one of the notes and read the first line, immediately identifying who the 'prankster' was.

"Hm. And are you sure this person is pranking you?"

"Of course. Everybody knows I hate Valentines Day. They're just doing all this to get a rise out of me and it really isn't funny!"

"..It kinda is funny."

You turned to Marlene with wide eyes and an angry frown, tilting your head at the girl who snickered at your expression. James was right, you were adorable whenever you were angry.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't think this is a prank, babe. I think someone just really likes you."

You thought for a moment, before scoffing.

"No, it's definitely a prank."

Marlene sighed, reminding herself that she was a patient person before she spoke once again.

"No it's not. I know it's not."

"Wait, you know?" You furrowed your eyebrows as you stared at her confused.

"Yeah, I know. I only know 'cause James Potter can go completely over board sometimes."

Your shoulders relaxed as your features shifted into soft shock.

"James... James Potter? He's doing all this?"

"Yep."

"..And not as a prank?"

"Oh, no, definitely not as a prank. The boy is just crazy."

You smiled, gazing into space as your cheeks turned as red as roses.

"James Potter likes me." You whispered to yourself, gathering up all the notes he wrote you in your arms and holding them to your chest.

Marlene nodded, grinning as she watched you transcend to the clouds where she knew nobody could snap you out of it.

Suddenly, you stood up, your chair scraping across the wooden floor as you threw all the notes in your bag and started walking away as if on a mission.

"He's in the courtyard!" Marlene called out without turning around in her chair.

She chuckled as she heard a quick 'thanks!' before running footsteps.

James was sitting on the stone bench by the footpath, reading through the latest Quidditch magazine when he heard someone frantically running, looking up only to see you as the person frantically running.

He watched as you manoeuvred between people, ignorant to their confused stares.

You finally arrived at the start of the footpath in the courtyard and drew in a deep breath, attempting to walk as elegantly as you could towards James Potter, panting as your hair flew everywhere but where it should've been. He was watching you with a mesmerised stare, and you knew Marlene was not joking if the boy could look at you like that even when you looked like that.

He stood up, dropping his magazine from his lap onto the floor but he didn't notice, only focused on you as you stood in front of him.

"James." You nodded respectfully.

He nodded back, smiling as he stood up straight.

"So you've been the one giving me all this... romantic stuff?"

"Yep. I like to call myself your secret admirer. Well, not really secret, you can ask my friends just how 'secretive' I've been. I tend to talk a lot about y-"

"I like you." You cut off his rambling, smiling as you held your hands together in front of your body, tilting your head when James smiled with the shine of the Sun.

"I like you too."

You nodded. "I know."

"Oh, right, yeah, the notes and all that... other stuff." James sighed.

"Listen, would you want to go out on a date with me? Say, in Hogsmeade around 5pm? We'll go in whatever shop you want."

You bit your bottom lip and nodded, growing timid as James continued to stare at you as if you were the one piece of art he had been looking for his entire life.

"Yeah, okay." You answered, and the boy never looked happier.

"Great, yeah, amazing." He smiled, before standing up straighter and clapping his hands together.

"Well, I better get going to Charms... see you later." He began walking away, before walking back towards you, shaking his head.

"Wrong way." He mumbled as he went past, and you laughed, watching as he stumbled through the hall, still gazing at you unabashedly with a grin on his face.

Perhaps there was no reason for you to hate Valentines Day.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Our Ray of Sunshine -P.G

Also known as Gender Reveal (2), feedbacks are appreciated, enjoy! Fun fact: I didn't knew what Helena name meant, when I searched for it, it matched with the title I had already given to the fic :)

Summary: Your babygirl is finally here

After the Gender Reveal, all people surrounding you have been over the moon, including you and Pablo, passing from calling it 'It' or 'Baby' to 'She/Her', coming up with names but never getting one, Pablo already had a nickname for her, her aunties, uncles, godfather and even grandparents (Both by blood and by choice/heart) have bought almost every single pink article of clothing, bib, everything, you name it, possible.

They forgot the fact they had already purchased her, a lot of things.

"She's not even born" You began folding her clothes, you already had eight piles of it "and I think I'm gonna have to give a few of these away to others"

"What? Why?" Pablo asked from besides you, looking up from his laptop

"I have already seen the same 'I'm aunties little girl' onesie five times" You look at him, said onesie in your hand showing it to him. He smiled without showing his teeth recognizing the gift as Aurora's one.

"I helped her get that one" You give him a look

"Helena already has that one" You say "In fact, she has other four like that but in different color"

"Just in case she doesn't like the other colors" You narrowed your eyes at him "Also, she's Paula"

"Helena sounds better" You defend

"I like Paula"

"Pablo, I won't put my baby girl your name in femenine!" He laughed hard at that

"I'm just kidding!" He closed his laptop "Helena's beautiful and it has a beautiful meaning" You smiled seeing him sit on the bed, back against the headboard as he grabbed you by the waist and kissed your 34 weeks tummy. Your shining light.

You gasped feeling her kick, you could never get used to it, it was something amazing and her unique way of letting you know she was also there, that she was good, uncomfortable with any x given position, in the convo and in your lifes too.

Even though she hereditated her dad's hard kick and sometimes hurted you a bit, you loved it.

You moved Pablo's hand towards where she was making herself known watching him smile

"You like Helena, little princess?" He asked speaking softly into your tummy leaving some kisses there with a smile on, seconds later, she kicked as you both smiled at each other widely "Helena is it, then"

Two nights after that, you had a bit of trouble while sleeping, she was moving around a lot and no matter what position you got into, it wasn't enough for her

"C'mon, Lena" You whispered "Mommy's tired" You carressed your lower tummy careful of not disrupting Pablo's sleep but failing.

"Something's wrong?" You heard your husband whisper, voice hoarse still filled with sleep "Can I help you in anything?" You hissed stopping your movements, Pablo instantly woke up "C'mon, mi vida. Let's get you up" Pablo stood up inmediately grabbing your hands and pulling you up

"She's being difficult tonight" You managed to say in between breaths. You were feeling an inmense amount of pain in your lower tummy and lower back too.

You took a deep breath feeling the pain knock it out of your lungs, you tried to calm down and take those deep breaths in and slow breaths out just like your mom and Belén had told you to.

"Amor?" You heard Pablo's voice at distance even though he was centimeters away from you, then you felt it.

You felt water run down your thighs and more pain came in

"Did you just-?" You nod humming cutting him off, your hands gripping his tightly "Joder, me cago en la-"

"Pablo" You said warningly taking deep breaths

"What should I do?" He asked you as you gave him a look still trying to breathe properly "Ok, ok! Don't worry, wait here, I'm gonna search for the keys" You nod humming one more time, not really taking in his words you were just keen on making the pain go away.

He left running as you stabilized yourself in your beside table

"Amor, c'mon, let's go" He came back pulling a hoodie of his over your almost naked frame

That's the little story of how you ended up in the hospital two hours later at 5.30am

"It hurts" You cracked out a bit before letting out air

"I know, mi vida, I know; I'm sorry" He kissed your hairline softly "Wish I could take your pain away" He was sat next to your bed, holding his hand tightly in yours "She'll be here soon" You smiled a bit

"She will" You closed your eyes a bit hissing as another contraction hit you "Our parents?" You tried to take your mind away from the pain

"Mine are on their way here along with Au and Javi, yours the car didn't start, they are waiting for you brother to pick them up" You nod "I already called the guys, Pedri and Baldé are here, they're on the waiting room"

"That really sweet of them" You smiled lightly

"Yes it is. Would you like to see them?"

"Later" You took a deep breath already feeling tired "Not a fan of people looking at me while I'm looking awful"

"You're not looking awful at all" Pablo said shaking his head inmediately "You're looking extremely beautiful, more than you always do. You're about to give birth to our babygirl, bring a new life. You're absolutely gorgeous and I love you so much" You smiled feeling another contraction "Feeling okay?" You nod

You spent seven hours more like that, by the time it was due for Helena to come into the world, everyone was inside the room. The guys, your girl friends and families.

"Señora Páez" The doctor came inside with a smile "Ready to bring your little one into this world?" You nod excited as everyone left the room

"Want you here" You whispered to Pablo

"I wasn't going to leave you, mi vida" He kissed your forehead grabbing your hand tightly

"What if I can't do it?" You asked being afraid watching the nurses and the doctor get everything and preparing themselves

"Don't say that. You can and you will do this. You are the strongest woman I've ever met in my whole life, you can do absolutely everything. I love you" He kissed you softly on the lips "You're about to bring the most beautiful thing ever into our lives, mi amor. I trust you, I know you can do this, preciosa"

"Ready?" The doctor asked

"Pablo"

"Get ready, mi amor. I'm here with you. Let's become parents"

When you heard those words come out from his mouth, you pushed, pushed and pushed with your everything. You were going to be a mom, you have waited for this moment ever since you found out of your pregnancy, you wanted to hold you baby in your arms.

And you finally collapsed after hearing the doctor's yell of joy, Pablo's arms catching you and soon you heard her screams and you smiled happily

"Here she is!"

"Preciosa?"

"I'm alright" You breathed out with a smile on "I'm alright" You smiled at Pablo, he smiled back at you and kissed your lips

"Dad, wanna cut the umbilical cord?" Pablo nodded excited hand already out to grab the scissors from the nurse's hand.

Pablo was shaking, he was feeling happier than ever and the excitement he was already a dad was settling in

"Momma, here's your babygirl" One of the nurses passed her to you, she was crying but as soon as you got her into your chest she stopped

"Lena, mi amor" You said softly, one of your fingers going to her little hand, as she gripped it tightly "Mi niña hermosa, we're mommy and daddy" Your voice cracked a bit.

You felt arms around you and saw Pablo hugging you both while crying lightly

"Joder, que es preciosa" Pablo let out and Helena wriggled a little, he put his arm underneath yours and she relaxed again, it was beautiufl how she seemed to understand, sense the voices and touches you had given her through your belly eight months back. Soon Pablo's hand gripped both of yours "Hija mía, we're extremely happy to finally have you here with us" You smiled "You're so loved already and we're going to take so much care of you for the rest of your life" He spoke his voice cracking too, he couldn't stop watching her and neither could you "Mommy and daddy love you so much"

She was gorgeous. She was perfect already.

"Thank you so much, mi vida" He finally looked at you "I can't ever thank you enough for this. You've made me a dad and I'm truly and forever grateful for it. Te amo, mi reina"

"Y yo a ti" You whispered kissing his lips. You gestured him to hold her too and he smiled grabbing her "I think she'll look like you"

"I don't think so. She's too beautiful to have my beauty genes" You laughed lightly

"You're extremely handsome, Pablo"

"But you have the good looks in our relationship" He said looking at you smiling, you blushed as he laughed lightly "I can still make your momma blush, Lena. I haven't lost my touch and I better never do" You shook your head

"You know you won't" He winked ready to keep joking until your moment was cut by the nurse who asked him for Helena to check her out and all.

"We're parents" Pablo said as soon as the nurse left with your daughter. You smiled at him and nodded

"We are" You kissed him and broke the kiss thanks to your yawn, making Pablo laugh

"Are my kisses that boring?"

"Oh shut up" You laughed

"Go to sleep for a bit, mi amor. I'll take care of Helena for now" You smiled

"You need to sleep too, you know?"

"I didn't just pushed a human out of me, you know?" You laughed "Go to sleep. I'll be fine with her and if something happens or if she needs you, I'll call you" You nodded "Te amo"

"Y yo a ti" You said closing your eyes

When you woke up, you woke up by some shushing and a few laughs

"Hijos de su madre, que se callen" You heard your husband say "Y/N is asleep and so is Helena"

"Already in dad mode?"

"I swear to God, I will kick you guys out of the room if you don't stay quiet"

"You'll have to kick yourself too" You replied watching Pablo instantly wip his face towards you, you smiled watching the pink blanket on his arms "you're also being loud"

"Sorry mi amor" He inmediately apologized going over to you to kiss you "How are you feeling?"

"Sore and tired" You laughed lightly watching your babygirl sleep in her dad's chest. You made a bit of space in the bed for him and your baby to sit, which he glady took

"Wanna eat?" You nod kind of forgetting about the bunch of people that were in the room

"Hi everyone" You said softly earning a few giggles

"How are you, my dear?" Your mom asked you as you nod lighty

"Never been this good" You smiled

"Congratulations, momma" Pedri said smiling as you smiled back at him

"Thank you, godfather" He blushed coming over to hug you.

Soon you saw the whole team, your close friends and your family fill the room with balloons, teddy bears and some chocolate for you, you smiled widely

"Thank you everyone for being here" You said

"Thank you for giving us the prettiest daughter, grandaughter, niece, friend and babygirl ever" Baldé said winning a few 'aw's' from the guys. You laughed

"She definitely got your beauty"

"Stop with that" You smiled

"Hopefully she got your brains and personality too" Pablo himself said making you laugh, the guys started to talk about something but you shut them off.

You were watching your husband be with your baby girl when she started crying

"Might be hungry" You smiled at Aurora, Pablo passed you Helena as you accommodated her, the guys excused themselves to let you have that first mom-daughter communication but Pablo, both of your moms and Aurora who stayed

"Thank you" Aurora said "For making me an aunt, for giving me the most beautiful niece ever, I wish the two of you as a relation all the greatest things and happiness in the world, and to your little but gorgeous family the same thing" She kissed her brother's and yours temple before coming out of the room

"That might hurt a bit" Belén said making you smile ", but it's the worlds most precious feeling"

"I agree" Your mom said smiling, the two older woman helped you and instructed you om how to breastfeed for the first time before leaving the room, not before both of them thanking you too.

"You can sleep too, you know?" You said to Pablo after a few minutes, he was mesmerized watching the two woman of his life, he shook his head

"Don't really want to" He whispered

"But you have to" You smiled "I'll wake you up if I need anything. It's your time to rest, amor" He smiled giving in after three kisses. He jumped out of your bed towards one that the hospital had put for him.

And with a hand on your thigh he fell asleep. You smiled once more watching the two loves of your lives.

Helena is such a lucky baby, having the most beautiful family by blood and by choice ever. You knew that she would always be taken care of, if you and Pablo couldn't, she was going to be extremely spoiled by them too and she will grow up with so much love, respect and care in every aspect of the words. But you were also lucky to have Pablo in your life and also the guys.

"Lena" You called her softly "You and mommy are extremely lucky" Your eyes shiftened to Pablo "I've got the world's most perfect husband and you've got the world's most perfect dad. That's the man of our lives" You smiled at her as her hand was placed on your chest lightly "I'm sure he'll do anything to see both of us happy, but I'm also sure we only need him to be like that. Am I right?" She gripped your hand and kicked her feet making you laugh, you took it as an agreement of your statement "That's right, my little ray of sunshine"

Helena was in your lives since only five hours ago, but you already loved your little and perfect family of three.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @elijahslover @stuckinaf4nfiction

[berryhobii]

Clouds (jhs x reader)

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x black!female!reader

Word Count: 6K+

Warnings: heavy angst, metaphors and illusions of depression, mentions of autism/depression/sociopathic disorders, mentions of the mistreatment of black women in medical situations(bc this very much still happens), overbearing mothers(but she comes from a good place I swear), feelings of being incomplete, feelings of inadequacy, a very bad date, mentions of fetishizing black women, Hoseok being a ray of sunshine, CRYING, mentions of codependency(bc it’s a soulmate au), one kiss but it’s very sweet, lots of rain and sun metaphors

A/N: Hi hi! I’m back with this sobfest of a fic 🥹 I swear I did not mean to make this this sad, it just kind of happened. I rewrote it a bunch of times and finally flowed on his particular idea. I love soulmate au’s, especially the cute ones with a countdown timer but I wanted to try something different. Something not as overt while still keeping the spirit of a soulmate au which is finding your other half. This is also a shoutout to all of the black people who suffer from depression. I know us being depressed isn’t taken as seriously especially to our families. Mental health isn’t taken seriously in black communities altogether and I really hope that will change. I see so many of us breaking generational curses; with our children, our friends, our relationships, and ourselves. I love seeing it. If you’re non black and read this, I hope it gives you some insight as well. To my black and melanated readers, I hope my stories can give you some comfort outside of just BTS. I hope you feel represented, I hope you feel important, and I hope you feel loved. Because you are all of those things🩵🩵much love. Stay safe. Criticism is always appreciated.

~

Dull. Stagnant. Lifeless.

That’s how you’d describe your world.

Each minute passed slower than the last, the monotony of your days only broken up by the arrival of the night. You didn’t even dream. Sleep was purely a necessity for you; you couldn’t escape to the vividness of a dream because color didn’t exist in your world.

You’ve accepted it. Accepted that you’d simply exist, drifting as another human among the billions of others. There was nothing special about you nor did you have any qualities people desired to interact with you for.

Mundane. Indifferent. Uniform.

That was you. Plain ol’ you.

“Are you okay, baby?” The voice of your mother called from the doorway of your childhood bedroom.

Rain pattered against the window, your gaze following whatever drop you found most interesting. You’d follow it until it disappeared or until it merged with other drops, the combined weight causing it to cascade faster down the glass.

You wished you could be a raindrop. Falling from the sky to nurture the earth then returning upward to form clouds. Then at least, you’d be useful. You could help plants grow, overfill the streaming rivers, bring relief to dry deserts.

Raindrops were so important.

You tore your eyes away from the window, looking at your mother. “I’m fine, mama.”

You could say that but she knew it wasn’t true. She also knew that asking you too many questions only resulted in her own emotional breakdown.

Why was her baby like this? What was wrong with you? Why did you look at her like she was just a stranger?

Swallowing back her tears, she managed a tiny smile. “The food is ready. It’s baked chicken, your favorite.”

Was that your favorite meal? You didn’t even know. Food didn’t matter much to you. It just kept you alive.

“Okay. I’ll be down in a second.” You said before turning back to the window, only to find the rain had let up. A light drizzle.

Your mother didn’t say anything, just backed out of the room, a single tear rolling down her face.

When you were born, the doctor’s considered you kind of a strange child. Not only was your mother’s entire labor pain free but you didn’t cry coming from the womb. You were breathing and all of your senses were completely fine.

You just wouldn’t cry.

You didn’t cry when you were hungry or wet, not even when you fell and hurt yourself. You felt pain but you didn’t cry.

Lots of people chalked it up to you just being a well behaved and calm kid. That should have been a blessing to your parents, right? A kid who didn’t cry or throw tantrums to do regular stuff kids did. Your parents should be so lucky.

But your mother knew something was wrong. That perpetual blank stare you always had, how you never smiled or found any real interest in toys or television, how you kind of just drifted around. You reminded her of a still flower on a rippling pond; so beautiful but unaffected by things around you.

She consulted many doctors on possible reasons for your seeming lack of emotions.

Were you chronically depressed? Did you have a sociopathic disorder? Were you autistic?

Maybe. Perhaps. A possibility.

Nothing was set in stone.

It even hit a point where your parents just completely lost hope. They still loved you the same. They’d just have to accept that you were the way you were.

But then your mother took you to see one final doctor who cleared up every suspicion anyone ever had.

Soulmates.

Less than 0.0001 percent of the population were comprised of these special people. However, there was so little information on this phenomena that affected such a minuscule portion of the population. Did a such thing even exist?

Your father was skeptical. He thought you just had some sort of mental problem and that the doctors were misdiagnosing you. He worked in the medical field and he knew black women were more likely to be mistreated. He believed they just didn’t care.

But your mother believed. What else could she do? She was holding on to the little ray of hope that you could get better.

Soulmates were opposites of one another in a multitude of ways. Sometimes it could be something as simple as height or biological sex, other times it could be complex like gender or religious affiliation.

And in serious cases like yours, it could be something as deep as the very fibers of your being.

You were incomplete without your soulmate. Only they could shine the light and illuminate the darkness that surrounded you.

The only problem is there was really no identifying factors that could help find your soulmate. No marks, no red string, nothing.

And with so many people all over the world, the chance of you finding them was almost nonexistent.

But your mother wouldn’t give up. She’d fix you.

~

“He’s a very nice boy. His mother says he’s upbeat and friendly too. He might be the one.” Your mother gushed as she removed another flexi-rod from your hair, her oiled fingers working carefully to unravel each one.

You didn’t say anything, staring ahead into the mirror in front of you. You had become used to seeing your made up face; foundation, concealer, highlight and whatever color eyeshadow matched the outfit she chose for you. You didn’t really care but your mother insisted you wear some to impress your date.

That’s why she was doing all of these preparations; to send you on yet another date in hopes of finding your soulmate.

Now that your mother knew the cause of your “ailment”, she was working overtime to find whoever they were. So far, you’ve met 41 people, male and female, multiple ethnicities, and all from different backgrounds. The only thing that tied them together was that each other them were happy and bright people. Each of them were social and loved by many. That had to be who your soulmate was, right?

All of these people and meetings and you’ve yet to find your other half. Your mother had been expanding her social circle in search of the person who would “heal” you; children of close friends, children of friends of close friends, even random people she’d overhear talking about their own children. She was on a mission and nothing would stand in her way.

Your mother completed the final touches on your hair, her smile wide.

“Look at how beautiful you are.”

She told you that often, ever since you were a little girl. Words of affirmation recited to you in an attempt to build your self confidence.

You guessed it must be true since she said it everyday.

You didn’t say anything again, her smile faltering just a tad but quickly widening again. She retrieved a simple necklace off the vanity, clasping it around your neck.

“There. Perfect.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and your mother sprang into action.

“He’s here! Come come.” She beckoned you with a frantic hand.

You stood from the chair, following her out of the room and to the living room. She handed you your purse and draped a shawl over your shoulders.

“Okay, you’re ready. Remember your manners and smile, okay?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

She pulled you into a hug, squeezing you tightly as she always did. Affection wasn’t really something you minded nor did you reciprocate it. Your parents hugged you all the time but you never really felt anything. You understood it was how people showed affection and love, the internet told you that.

You just didn’t get it. You didn’t feel it.

But you hugged her back anyway.

You stood there in her embrace for 23 seconds longer before she released you. Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb running across the apple of it.

Her smile was gentle but it didn’t reach her eyes, that glossy sheen always misting her eyes. Your mother cried a lot but never in front of you. You could sometimes hear her or find her wiping away tears if you’d enter the room, that smile always pulling at her lips acting as if nothing was wrong.

It confused you. It was obvious she was cried so why did she hide it?

Oh well.

“Have fun, okay?”

Opening the door, you found date number 42 standing there. He was dressed sharply in a crisp suit, hair gelled back out of his face, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

His mouth dropped when he saw you, eyes traveling from your feet to the top of your head.

“Wow.” He breathed out. “You look stunning.”

Remembering your manners, you answered, “Thank you.”

Clearing his throat, he held out the flowers to you. “These are for you.”

You took the bouquet from him then you remembered something your mother drilled into you.

“Always smile when someone gives you flowers. It means you appreciate them.”

Wasn’t saying thank you the appreciation?

Still, you put a smile on your face. A practiced smile that you’d rehearse in the mirror under your mother’s watch.

“They are lovely. Thank you.” You tried to add some inflection to your voice to sound grateful but it just came out robotic.

If number 42 noticed, he didn’t say anything, simply taking your thank you for what it was.

Holding out his arm, he asked, “ready to go? Our reservation is soon.”

Nodding, you placed your hand on his arm and let him escort you out of the door and down to his car. He opened the door for you, helping you inside and even making sure you put on your seatbelt before closing your door. He rounded to the driver’s seat and got in, buckling himself in and starting the car before pulling off.

“I hope you like seafood. The restaurant we’re going to has the best seafood pasta.”

You didn’t dislike it. Food was food to you. It was simply sustenance.

You stared out of the window as he began rambling about his favorite restaurants. You blankly watched the scenery pass, not really taking note of anything. Just watching.

Then you saw a raindrop hit your window, followed by a few more.

You heard your date make a noise of concern. “I didn’t think it would rain. Hopefully it’s only a drizzle. I hate when it rains. Don’t you?”

“No.”

He glanced over at you, a little chuckle coming from him. “Ah you’re one of the ones who like rain, huh? Why? It’s cold and wet and makes you sick.”

You continued to watch the drops patter against the window.

Yes rain was cold. It passes through a thin layer of cold air before falling to the earth. Yes rain was wet. It was water.

But rain was also….

“Rain is important.”

He snorted. “I guess so. It’s just inconvenient in cities.”

Inconvenient, huh?

You didn’t say anything in response to him, silence engulfing the inside of the car.

He coughed to break the air before reaching for the radio. A low pop song began playing through the speakers, not doing anything to alleviate the awkwardness but doing everything to prevent any more conversation.

Thankfully(for him), you arrived at the restaurant just minutes after. The rain was still at a very light drizzle which was good since he didn’t bring an umbrella.

He opened your door, holding out his arm to help you out.

The restaurant was nice on the inside. It reminded you a lot of the places your parents would take you for birthdays or graduations.

Clean. Fancy. Stuffy.

You both approached the hostess that sat behind a podium. She greeted you both with a bright smile.

“Welcome to Rêverie. Do you have a reservation?”

“I do. Two under Lee Jihyun.”

Oh yeah. That was his name.

She scrolled through her tablet. “Ah yes. Right this way.”

She led you through tables filled with other patrons. For a Thursday night, this place certainly was busy.

Jihyun pulled out your chair and you thanked him before sitting down.

“Your waiter will be with you shortly.” The hostess said, bowing and then walking away.

After removing his suit jacket and draping it over the back of his chair, he turned to face you.

“So, y/n. Tell me about yourself.”

That was an open statement. You didn’t know what to say.

So you questioned, “what do you want to know?”

He tapped his chin in faux thought, a little inquiring smirk on his face.

“Hmm….what’s your favorite food?”

“I don’t have one.”

His smile dropped a little but he remained positive. Letting out an awkward chuckle, he ran a hand through his hair.

“Okay. What’s your favorite color?”

“I don’t have one.”

You saw the little twitch in his brow. Your father did that sometimes when he was really focused on his work. He told you it was because he was annoyed or frustrated with something.

Was Jihyun annoyed or frustrated with you?

“Then where are you from?”

“Chicago.”

He exhaled some air through his nose, tilting his head a little. This was getting nowhere.

At that moment, a waiter came to your table with 2 glasses of water and some menus.

“Hello there. I’ll be your waiter today. Can I start you off some drinks?”

Jihyun seemed to perk up at the arrival of the waiter, his smile returning full force.

“Yes we are. I’ll take a glass of your finest red wine.” Then he looked to you. “And for you? A glass of wine?”

You didn’t drink alcohol. Mainly because you just didn’t like it.

“No. I’ll keep my water. Thank you.”

The waiter nodded. “I’ll be right back with those and to take your order.”

Now you two were left alone again. Great.

A silence just as thick and uncomfortable as the one in the car encompassed your table.

Jihyun drummed his fingers on the table, thoughts racing as he tried to think of a conversation topic to get you talking. Then it hit him.

“Your mom set this date up, right? My mom’s been hounding me about settling down. What about you?” He curiously inquired.

He didn’t know? Hmm.

“She’s searching for my soulmate. She said that I’ll be happy if I find them.”

That seemed to spark his interest. “Soulmate?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He tapped his finger again. “So…..how exactly does that work?”

You barely knew fully. The doctor who diagnosed you could only explain so much since soulmates still aren’t very common or explicitly studied.

“I can’t express or feel most emotions, specifically ones of joy or sadness. Whoever my soulmate is is the opposite of me. That’s why my mother set you and I up.”

He let that information soak in. His mother didn’t say anything about this. All she told him was that a friend of hers had a gorgeous daughter. And if he was being honest, he was pretty curious about dating a black woman.

You certainly were beautiful and your poofy hair was interesting looking.

Your personality though? It left a lot to be desired. He was expecting you to be a little sweeter, more responsive to him. You didn’t even react at seeing his super expensive car nor did you say anything about the restaurant. He was putting a lot of money into this date so he was expecting more.

At least you were pretty.

Now as for this soulmate business. It didn’t make a lot of sense to him. Of course he’s heard about soulmates but he thought it was a load of crap.

Then again, you were strange. You were expressionless and lackluster. Your monotone answers showed your lack of interest and you’ve only smiled once since he met you.

Maybe you did have a soulmate. No one could be this boring without reason.

Well, your personality didn’t really matter. You weren’t ugly, that’s all he was concerned about.

He snorted, waving a hand around. “You don’t have to worry about that. You have me now. I’m all you need.” He reached a hand over to cup your chin. “As long as you listen to me and stay pretty, it’ll be fine.”

Listen? Stay pretty? You already did that.

Your objective wasn’t either of those things. It was to find your soulmate; the person who was your other half.

The person who would help you.

“You’re not my soulmate. What could you offer me?”

His eyebrow twitched again, a forced laugh falling from his lips. He released your chin and leaned back in his chair.

“Ha! What do I have to offer? I have plenty.” He bragged with a huff and a flare of his nostrils.

But what? What could he offer you? Your mother said that only your soulmate could give you what you really needed. This man obviously wasn’t it so what could he give you? Why were you even still here?

“Never leave a date early. It’s rude.”

What was the point? Wasn’t the goal of this date to figure out if he was your soulmate? He wasn’t so why couldn’t you leave? All the lessons from those etiquette classes your mother instructed you to sit through danced around your head.

“You aren’t my soulmate. There’s nothing you could give me.”

That really seemed to piss him off because he was suddenly slamming his hands down on the table. The force caused your water to shake, the liquid rippling in the glass.

“How dare you?! I take you on this fancy date and try to be nice to you and you insult me like this? You should feel grateful I even entertained the thought of meeting you.” He ranted spitefully, his entire face blazing red and veins popping out of his forehead.

Grateful? You should feel grateful? How did you do that?

Other patrons were startled by your date’s sudden outburst, whispers and mutters sounding around the restaurant.

That’s when the hostess appeared at your table.

“Sir, please calm down or I’ll have to ask you to leave.” She attempted to soothe him, holding up her hands as if calming a wild horse.

But your date wasn’t hearing any of it. His anger was too much to contain right now.

He pointed at you. “I only went on a date with you because my mom said you were pretty but she didn’t tell me you were so disrespectful. She also said your mother was desperate to marry you off and that she’s been trying to push you on any person she could.” He bellowed with a hearty and mocking laugh. “Just how many people have you been with already?”

“41. You’re number 42.” You answered simply and that took his irritation from a 100 to a 101.

Letting out a growl of frustration, he stood from the table, grabbing his jacket and practically snatching it on his body.

“You know what? I don’t need this! I have plenty of women lined up for me. I thought dating a black girl would be exciting but you’re seriously a bore. I’m leaving.”

He stomped away from the table, leaving you alone and letting the mind’s of the strangers surrounding you racing.

Just as you were about to get up to leave, he came back to the table, snatching the flowers he gave you earlier from the surface.

“And give me these back!”

Ah. There goes number 42. Your mother would probably get that look on her face again. That misty look in her eyes…..that she’d just cover with a smile and reassure you that she’d find someone else for you.

Again and again. Over and over.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your waiter shuffling back over, a small brown bag in his hands.

“Um, we won’t charge you for the wine since it never reached the table.” He stated nervously, worried that you’d blow up next at his words.

“Okay.”

He then placed the bag on the table. “Please take this red velvet cake. It’s on the house.”

~

The rain was pouring when you stepped out of the restaurant. The awning outside protected you from the brunt of the downpour but you could still feel the drops hitting your bare legs.

You should call a cab. A cab would take you home.

Home.

As if they had a mind of their own, your feet carried you out into the heavy rain. The harsh drops hurt your skin but you continued.

Cold rain soaked through your clothes and all the way down to your shoes, goosebumps rising across your skin but it didn’t bother you.

Nothing did. Maybe that was your main problem.

The stares of people you walked by didn’t bother you. The chill of the rain didn’t bother you. The pain of your feet in these heels didn’t bother you.

Why? Why were you like this? Why couldn’t you feel anything?

“Because you’re broken.”

That’s right. You were broken. Like a porcelain ballerina on a music box; anyone could see how poised and perfect you were, a true sight to see. Sparkling and beautiful, their expectations were high but when they turned your key…..

No music came out. The inner workings of your soul were rusted and stiff, your heart merely a muscle that pumped blood through your veins, your life just something you lived.

You had no purpose. You didn’t exist for anything. You were just a doll, one that would collect dust in an antique case until the end of time.

Your feet slowed to a stop, the assault of the rain feeling like daggers against your skin. You tilted your head back to stare up into the dark sky.

You wished you could be a raindrop. You just wanted to fall and then go back to the sky.

At least then you wouldn’t be so useless. You wouldn’t make your mother cry. You wouldn’t be a burden.

You wouldn’t be incomplete.

“Hey are you okay?”

Your ears itched so you lifted your hand to scratch at it.

“Why are you out here without an umbrella? It’s pouring.”

Why were your ears so itchy? Did you need to clean them?

“Did the rain come out of nowhere for you too? The forecasts are so unreliable sometimes, huh?”

You didn’t understand. Why was……why…..?

Your head slowly came down from its craned position and your heart did something other than simply beat.

It squeezed.

Something you’ve never felt before jolted through your entire body, so powerful and consuming that your knees buckled. You stumbled forward a little, the grip on the bottom of your heels doing nothing to keep your upright.

“Oh hey! Are you alright?”

Then you were met with warmth. No, something more than that.

Heat. Body scorching and all encompassing heat engulfed your body. It felt like someone had poured gasoline over you and a lit a match.

A hand touched your arm and that heat spread like a hot brand across your skin. You couldn’t even feel the coldness of the rain that soaked your clothes and skin anymore. It was like someone wrapped a warm towel straight out of the dryer around you.

“Hey….”

Slowly, as if this bubble you formed would burst, you leaned your head back to look into a pair of eyes so iridescent and dazzling that you thought you were staring right at a cluster of stars.

Like the sun after rain, a rainbow stretching across the blue sky.

It was him. He had found you.

You two stayed locked in eye contact for a very long moment. The world seemed to fade away, not even the sound of rain or honking cars could bring you back.

Then like a ray of sunshine, he smiled but unlike your mother or other people you’ve met, this smile held no sadness, no pain, no ulterior motives.

It was pure. It was beautiful.

“Have you been waiting long for me? I’m sorry.” He lifted the hand that wasn’t holding the umbrella to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray raindrop.

Then the dam broke and for the first time in your entire life, you did something you never thought you’d be able to do.

You cried.

Loud and heart wrenching, as thunderous and roaring as the storm you two were in. Every emotion you’ve never felt since birth swelled in your chest, traveling up your throat and out of your mouth as you let out wails of sorrow.

Wails of joy. Wails of anguish. Wails of strife. Wails of gratitude.

You cried.

And he held you, shielding you from the rain and holding the broken pieces of you together before you could fall apart again.

His hand stroked your back up and down as he hummed a song to you. “It’s okay. Let it out. I know it’s been hard for you. I’m here now.”

Yes. He was here. He found you. You’d be okay.

~

The sound of a phone ringing woke you from your haze of sleep. Your head felt fuzzy and your body felt heavy.

Where were you?

Lifting your arm, you felt around the nightstand until you touched the object you were searching for. You turned on your side, bringing your phone to your face, eyes squinting at the brightness.

Mama.

Why was she calling you? Wasn’t she in the next room?

Pressing the answer button, you held the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“y/n! y!n, where are you? My friend just called me and told me you had a falling out with Jihyun. Are you okay? You didn’t even come home. I thought something happened to you.”

Jihyun? Oh yeah, your date. The memories of that awful dinner were starting to come back to you. You couldn’t even call it dinner since you didn’t even eat but whatever.

“Sorry, mom. He left me at the restaurant and it started raining really hard so I….” Your train of thought derailed, more memories of last night flowed into your brain.

Jihyun leaving you. Your walk in the rain. Bumping into someone.

That feeling in your chest….

Your soulmate! You found them. You never went home. You went with them instead.

“y/n? Is everything okay?” Your mother questioned with concern laced in her voice.

You felt something move behind you and you remembered everything.

“Mama, I promise I’m fine. I’ll be home later, okay?”

You couldn’t see the look of confusion on her face but you could feel it was there. “Uh, alright honey. Be careful. I love you.”

You smiled, feeling tears prick your eyes as your heart rapidly pounded in your chest.

“I will. I love you too, mama.”

And you did. You loved her so much. You could feel it.

Just like how you could feel her own tears even after you hung up the phone.

After placing your phone back on the nightstand, you paused and sat in silence for a moment.

So many feelings and thoughts rushed through your body like a rapid stream, rain had fallen and filled the cavern that was your soul, overflowing every empty crevice and nourishing the flora that had been withered and dry. With these new and unfamiliar feelings expanding, it almost hurt.

You were happy that it hurt though because that meant you were feeling.

You could feel now. You were so unexplainably happy.

Turning back to your other side, your eyes met the sleeping form of the person who made all of this possible.

Reaching a hand out, your fingertips grazed over his cheek. You could still so vividly remember how the cheekbone rounded when he graced you with that breathtaking smile. You wanted to see it again. You wanted to learn about what makes him smile, what makes him happy, what makes him sad.

You wanted to understand his feelings.

Your finger traced all across his face; his eyebrows, his nose, his lips, his chin. As if you were trying to memorize each atom of his face.

A part of this felt like a dream, one you were afraid you’d wake up from but if you did, you still think you’d be happy. Happy because at least you had this much. If this was a dream, you wouldn’t mind because this dream would be precious to you.

With another touch of his eyelids, he flinched causing you to do the same. His hand lifted to rub at his face, grumbles and mumbles coming from his lips. You watched as he stretched his body before flopping back down and then his eyes cracked open.

Your breath hitched in your throat, heart going crazy in your chest and another swell of emotions you couldn’t place surging as well.

He blinked sleepily before his eyes finally landed on you. Staring into the brown irises brought that heat back but even stronger this time. You didn’t really understand it but you wanted to.

“Oh, you’re awake? Did you sleep well?” His light voice croaked as he rubbed the drowsiness out of his eyes.

You nodded. “I did. Did you?”

Then he smiled and your heart squeezed.

“Yeah. I did too. For the first time in a while.”

There was a hint of something in his words but you couldn’t place it.

“Do you have a hard time sleeping?”

He looked up at the ceiling, staring as if it held the solution to all of his problems.

“Yeah.”

You felt like he had more to say and you were about to ask a follow up question when the sound of your stomachs growling interrupted.

His smile was bright and his laughter was contagious. “Are you hungry? I can make us some breakfast.”

“That sounds great.”

~

“I’m Hoseok, by the way.” He said as he placed a fried egg on a plate and then served it to you.

He let you shower first, even letting you wear some of his clothes since the dress you wore last night was still soaked through. You were actually already wearing a large t shirt of his and a pair of boxers that he leant you, both brand new of course. A part of you didn’t even want to shower because you didn’t want him to leave your eyesight. You finally found him and all you wanted to do was admire him and be close to him. He felt exactly the same but he was starving since he didn’t eat dinner last night. And now that you thought about it, neither did you.

Now you were both in his kitchen while he whipped up breakfast.

You didn’t even realize you never asked him his name. Hearing it now flared that heat in your heart again.

Hoseok. It was nice. It fit him.

“I’m y/n.”

He smiled at you again. You really liked seeing him smile.

“That’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

You’ve been hearing that for years, all your life really but hearing him say it, you truly believed it. From his lips, it sounded sincere, like he was looking past just your physical appearance.

He was looking at you. All of you.

“I have a question.” He said as he ate a blueberry.

You hummed in acknowledgment, letting him know he could continue.

“Why were you out in the rain like that?”

Any other time, you wouldn’t have hesitated to give the answer but your words got caught when he asked. Should you even tell him? Would he get upset? Why did you feel so guilty?

He noticed your hesitation and it was like he could see the cogs turning in your head. He didn’t quite understand you yet. What were you experiencing before you met him? What were the effects of your incomplete soulmate bond?

You felt a hand place itself over yours where it rested on the table, your eyes lifting from your half eaten breakfast to meet those sweet eyes.

“You can tell me. I promise I’ll accept whatever you say. I’ll accept you.”

Tears prickled at your waterline but you didn’t let them fall. You felt like if you cried again, you’d never stop.

Taking a deep breath, you admitted, “I was on a date.” When he didn’t say anything, you continued. “My mom would set me up on dates in order to find my soulmate. I was on one with this guy and he left me at the restaurant. I was about to go home but something told me to start walking.”

He listened intently, a little burst of anger firing in his heart at whatever asshole left you by yourself like that. He couldn’t help but feel a little relieved, however. Because if they didn’t leave you, he probably wouldn’t have found you.

“I see. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“I’m not.” You quickly responded, moving your hand so your fingers could entwine with his. A look of surprise crossed his face, his gaze going to your linked hands. His own heart thudded wildly like a stampede.

Then you smiled and what an absolutely wonderful smile it was.

“Then I’m not either.”

You two tucked back into your food in silence, hands still locked on the table.

“I have a question too.”

“Yeah?”

“Why were you out in the rain?”

He made a noise, shrugging his shoulder and finishing off the last of his breakfast. “I couldn’t sleep so I took a walk. It started raining on my way back home. There was a convenience store on my way so I got an umbrella there.” He explained as if it was so simple but something told you it wasn’t.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

What a good question.

“Whenever I try to sleep, I get this overwhelming feeling that keeps me up. It’s like…..I’m always uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” You parroted.

He hummed. “Like whenever I try to sleep, I can’t. It feels like….something was missing.”

“Like what?”

He pondered in thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain it to you. He’s been asked that question before and he could never quite answer. To him, showing emotion came so easily. He could empathize with most; he cried when others did, he rejoiced when he was happy, he got angry when something didn’t go his way. All of it came naturally to him.

But when it was time to shut those feelings down and rest, he couldn’t. He took walks often as a way to both clear his head and try to tire himself out. He slept sometimes but never more than a couple of hours, those feelings always startling him awake again. He slept but he didn’t rest.

Something was keeping him awake. Something was missing. Something that he didn’t have.

His eyes left his empty plate to finally lock on the beauty of you. With you, all of those conflicting feelings calmed down. They settled in his heart, that heavy weight that once constricted him now lifted. Like when you curled up next to a window, a book in your lap and a blanket over your shoulders as a gentle rain fell.

“Peace.”

A soft smile stretched across his face, his eyes holding so many feelings that he’s always been able to express but never truly able to receive. Looking at you now, he knew he could have it all now.

He could have peace. The reason he couldn’t sleep was because there were too many emotions storming around him, leaving him lost in the torrent of his own life. He had friends who loved him, family who supported him, and bonds that could never be broken but even with all of that, he still lacked one thing.

One person.

You.

He rounded his small kitchen island until he was standing next to you, his hand that wasn’t holding yours moving to cup the back of your neck. He leaned down just a little. Your lips were so close, a few centimeters closer and they’d touch. A frenzy of everything was happening in both of your bodies; anticipation, fear, passion, and more things neither of you could make.

His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes, back and forth.

“I’m so glad I found you.” He whispered.

“I’m glad you found me too.”

And just like that, your lips joined. As did your hearts, as did your souls, as did your beings.

Complete.

Like the sun shining through the clouds after a rainy day and the rain returning to cover the sun, you two fit together in a delicate cycle.

One that could never be broken.

The sun. The rain. The earth. The sky. The moon. Red. Purple. Orange. Green.

Blissful. Confusing. Playful.

The colors that made up your world were bright now.

All thanks to your sun ☀️

[theerurishipper]

I’m gonna wait to see the special before drawing any more finale conclusions but for the moment everything we got from the leaks is just so… weird? and nonsensical? 

So the only reason why our Marinette didn’t turn evil was because of Alya. Which contradicts everything TA and his team have been saying about abuse. Why does Alya being a positive influence for Marinette works but Audrey being a negative influence for Chloé doesn’t? They had Mylene say, “Having a bad mother doesn’t justify your actions” so neither should bullying. The lesson with Chloe is that abuse is ok and children that turn out ‘wrong’ because of it should just be left alone with their abusers because they somehow deserve it by not being able to turn out perfect on their own. Why shouldn’t the same logic apply to Emonette and Emodrien? (I believe they’re the names the fandom’s been using but I’m not sure) You’re being bullied? Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t lash out and become evil. It’s 100% on you now. Like seriously, am I missing some piece of information here? If I am please correct me! Because as of now it just doesn’t make sense to me. The lessons TA wanted to teach its fans is that sometimes people are just bad and no amount of tragic backstory justifies their actions, but every single choice he’s done from season 3 is just proving over and over that this logic only applies when it’s time to diminish Chloe. Chloe is 14 and has decided to be evil. Emonette and Emodrien are 14 have decided to be evil. “But they tried to show Chloe the right path and she didn’t take it, she’s evil” Gabriel seems to be a good father in the other universe, so shouldn’t be this the same for Emodrien as well? How did he even end up being a ray of sunshine with an abusive terrorist father but ends up being a villain with a good father? How does that even work? I really hope there’s more to the special because if they’re really going for the message that somehow Gabriel’s abusive parenting was a good thing for Adrien… I’m going to scream. 

Like, I understand the story they were going for with Chloe. Unfortunately, it's true that some people don't change. But then they began stating that she's not an abused child and it's not the influence of her mother that made her this way, it's just that she's Evil™. And her "consequences" ended up being more abuse. It's so fucked up.

And you're exactly right about Chloe being exempt from the justifications and explanations that the rest of the cast receives. Emonette gets to commit terrorism, and all this can be explained away by her having been bullied by Chloe, but Chloe isn't influenced by her mother's abuse, oh no, she's just born evil and is unworthy of change! The Chloe equivalent of Emonette's story would be for her to be sent back in disgrace after committing all her crimes to be bullied by Chloe some more, but you just know that ain't gonna be how it goes down. The characters are going to downplay Shadybug and Claw Noir's crimes, offer them compassion and insist that they are good people, and they're gonna get off scott-free. And of course, Emonette wouldn't deserve more bullying as a consequence, and that's the truth. But apparently Chloe's deserved ending is more abuse? It's horrid.

And the Gabriel-Adrien implications are a step further into the abuse apologia category. I just wrote a whole post about it, but you're right on the money about the implications. And I really think that's what's going to be portrayed, unintentionally or not. It sucks.

Thank you for your ask!

[cowboywritersworld]

365 days to fall in love

General Masterlist | AEW Masterlist | Claudio Castagnoli Masterlist

Characters: Claudio Castagnoli, Reader, Sheamus, Jon Moxley, Darby Allin

Plot: Claudio is the boss of a mafia family with Sheamus and Jon as his right and left hand men. What happens when Reader discovers her big brother owes them way too much money and can't afford to pay them?

AN: This fic, which will get part of a serie, is partly because of @madhatterbri, who has been fueling my insane ideas. ♥

Claudio looks at himself in the mirror, while tying his tie. Together with the jacket, that is the only piece of clothing he is still missing. His tuxedo is totally black, while his button down shirt is of a different color: white. From the corner of his eyes he can see rays of sunshine timidly make their way into his suite. His bed is kissed by them, but it is empty... Far too empty for his likings.

Hir Rolex shows that it is already 8 am and he sighs, knowing that he should hurry up. He rolls his cuffs, walking to the chair, from where he takes the jacket and wears it with a swift movement of his callous hands. As the Swiss born man finally gets out of his suite, he notices Sheamus - his right-hand man - there waiting for him.

"Is the car ready?" Claudio asks as they walk through the corridor and down the stairs.

"Yes and everyone is ready to go." Sheamus follows him and when they get to the car he opens the door for his best friend and boss, sitting down next and buckles himself in.

"The idiot better has the money he owes us." Claudio contemplates. He doesn't really like that family and he feels fooled by the man who owes them money, ever since he has noticed a badass motorcyclein their yard, the last time they visited. "We have already left him some hints, he should know better than let us wait anymore." There is litte to no room at all for him to get away with it. "Me, you and Jon will be at the door, the others will stay behind, in the car, so he doesn't see them." The boss looks out of the window, while Sheamys simply nods at his words.

Y/N is in her room: she just got ready for University, wearing some tight black pants, a long sleeve shirt and a motorcycle jacket, so she is protected in the very rare case she should have an accident. In the two years she has had her driver licence, she never had an accident, but one can never be too sure about that.

She fluffs out her curly long hair, putting her notebook and pencase together in her backpack, where she already has the clothes she will change into at the coffee shop for her shift. She loves her part-time job, even though it has nothing to do with what she is actually learning, but it helps with her student fees, so she is not a burden to her parents.

"Ehy big bro, do you want me to prepare some breakfast for you as well?" She calls out while walking down the stairs.

"Yes please. Some scrambled eggs and bacon, if you have time?" He is not sure when she is set to start, her lessons aren't always at the same time.

"Don't worry, I still have more than one hour, you take your time." She normally likes to wake up early, take a shower, get everything ready for the day and at the same time listen - through her airpods - at the last lesson she had with that day's teachers. She starts cooking the bacon, while cracking the eggs in the heating pan. She hums while she juggles between the pans, almost jumping when the door bell rings. The clock shows 8:15 am, so who could it be that early in the morning? "I'll take it!" She turns the stoves off, making sure that the food doesn't burn, cleans her hands and finally gets the door while drying them. "Uh... How may I help you?" She is confused, those men all in black are huge and she can't recall ever seeing them there.

"Wo ist dein Bruder?" The tallest man asks her. He seems more intimidating as well and she would love to answer, but she really has no idea what he asked her.

"We don' hav' da whole day!" Jon snorts, but Sheamus smacks him on the nape, before Claudio can get nervous.

"Where are your manners, men?" Sheamus sighs and turns to Y/N. "Please excuse them. Someone apparently forgot not everyone in the States knows German." He points at Claudio. "He asked you where your brother - Darby, if I recall correctly - is. Is he - by any chance - still at home?"Even by being a man from the Mafia, Sheamus tries to be polite. She seems already scared enough.

Claudio sighs, nodding at his right-hand man's words. "Yeah, sorry. We are looking for your brother." That girl is beautiful and very cool, he has never seen her before, but Darby and her are so much alike. The boss licks his lips, taking more interest in her with each movement she makes.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know a single word in German." She turns slightly around, exposing her bare neck to them for a brief second, looking around before calling her big brother out loud. "Big bro, someone wants to speak with you."

Y/N is not sure she should let them in, so she just waits there. The more seconds pass, the more she feels like she is naked in front of those three men. Even with being half turned around, she knows the tallest man between them isn't taking his eyes off her body, especially not off her legs kissed by those tight black pants and she doesn't feel at ease. The situation feels even worse for her, when the man rambling about not having the whole day, starts to smoke. It is one of the few things she can't stand: she literally hates it. She coughs when the smoke reaches her nostrils, feeling relieved when Darby finally comes downstairs.

"What do you want?" He asks coldly, taking Y/N by one arm and bringing her behind himself. "Go to your room, I'll handle this." He doesn't want her to get involved in any way, nor for her to hear about their financial problems. He puts himself more between Claudio and her, not liking how he is looking at his sister.

"Oh no, there is no need for your beautiful little sister to go to her room. There are no secrets and she is old enough to know about this meeting, Allin." Claudio's voice is sharp, not letting room for a no.

Y/N looks down at Darby first, then her gaze meets the German man's and she has to take a step back, a bit scared. "I-I think I'll stay here." She claims, stepping back a bit more though.

"Imma go to da car, don' take fuck'n too long." Jon leaves them there, rolling his shoulders and still smoking.

"What are you all doing here?" Darby has to pretend: he knows exactly what they want, but he still doesn't have the money.

Claudio bursts out laughing, taking a step closer to the younger man. "Oh, I am sure you know more than well what we are after." His gaze crosses once again Y/N's, and the girl blushes just at the silent and single staredown.

"Let her go, she doesn't need to know about our problems." Darby squeezes her hand, in a silent affirmation that he is fine and everything will be as well.

"How old are you, Y/N?" Claudio keeps looking at her, not even caring about the small man in front of him. The more he looks at her, the more she seems interesting to him.

"I turned 19 last month, Sir." Chills run down her spine, while she registers his deep voice, now strangely tender, than where he was talking with her brother.

"Don't talk to her!" Just the way he looks at his little sister, is making Darby sick.

"So? She is old enough, no need to keep it a secret anymore." Claudio smirks, raising an eyebrow at him. "Playing the protective brother's role? You are very laughable." He shoves his head, staring back at the girl. "I can decide who to speak with." He adds, hissing.

"I don't have what you are searching for. Neither does my little sister." Darby doesn't care about what may happen to himself, he is more worried about Y/N and her dream to become a doctor. "I'm asking you one more time, man. Let her go, she is learning at the University, she wants to become a doctor. She has lessons to be at." Why should he even expect mercy from men like them?

"Oh, so you are a future doctor? How convenient." Claudio licks his lips once again, laughing at Darby's snort.

"Stop looking at her like that. She will never be yours!" That man is really testing out his patience, but he knows he will be in serious trouble if he dares to hit him. "What kind of future do you think you can give her? She doesn't belong to your world or business." He makes the bold and stupid decision of spitting down at his feet, enraged.

"Trust me when I tell you that she would live a better life with me, rather than staying here with you and your family." His eyes get dark, he can't stand that insult anymore. His hand moves quickly, but it never really reaches Darby's face. The hand around his wrist is tiny in comparison to one of his, but it's still quite strong.

"You...!" Sheamus wants to grab her, but Claudio raises a hand in a silent request to not take action about it.

"Such a strong and fiery little woman you are, Y/N." The Swiss man deep inside is angry, but he is deeply amused by the guts she has.

"My brother may have said wrong things and I apologize for that, but I won't let you hurt him." She doesn't let his wrist go at the moment.

"I like your behaviour, you may be young, but don't let anyone get over you." Claudio wriggles his wrist easily out of her hold. "Fine, you can go. What me and your brother need to talk about takes more time than you actually have."

Y/N takes a deep breath, taking her backpack and the helmet, together with the keys of her blue Yamaha R1. Darby lets her through and, when she goes past the tallest man, she feels one of his hands rub on her right arm. From the corner of her eyes she looks at him, walking to the garage, where her motorcycle is. She brings it out on the street, getting on it, before looking back at the entrance of her house. She can see that they are still there and she can't help but look at Claudio, who has his back turned to her. His broad shoulders and his entire body are interesting for her. She still has no idea about who those men are: she is sure Darby never had friends who speak German, but it doesn't matter. With a sigh she finally drives off, still feeling that brush on her arm.

"Now that your precious little sister is gone..." Claudio looks darkly at Darby. "This is your last notice: you have ten days. If when we come back you still don't have my money, there will be consequences." He grins now. "You sure have a pretty sister." He underline, leaving rhw discussion at that. "Ten more days, Allin. If I was you, I would make sure to get the money." He turns halfway around. "Let's go."

"Fuck you!" Darby screams at the top of his lungs, closing the door hard behind him.

*************

Five days pass by and even if Y/N tries to get answers from her brother, he always dismisses her. That day is a Saturday and she is working full time at the coffee shop, since she has no university and the boss needs her as an extra help. She reaches her boss at the register, still putting on her apron, smiling at her. That old woman has always felt like a second mother to her.

Normally Y/N would get assigned to the private rooms, if anyone asks for one of them, else she normally helps out in the three normal rooms they have. The private ones are fancier and require a level of attention which is higher than in the shared ones.

"So Y/N, right before you came in, three men sat in Lounge 1, so I would say you focus the first hour on them. If they are good and help is needed out here, you can come help out." Lysa adviced her: whenever Y/N is there, she does that, since she is so good at what she does. If she wouldn't have university, Lysa would surely offer her an open-ended work, full time.

"Sure Lysa. I'll get directly to them, so they won't wait anymore. You all know where to find me, if needed." Y/N smiles at her coworkers, walking towards the lounge she has been directed to, getting her palmtop ready to take the order. She freezes at the door, as she hears the men talking between themselves. She can clearly hear that German accent she had heard just five days prior. She hates how it sends chills down her spine, but she brushes it off, getting professional. "Goodmorning gentlemen. I'll be your server for today." Is it a coincidence that they are there?

"Good-" Claudio's words die in his throat as he clearly remembers that voice and that figure. "Will you be serving only us, Y/N?" He needs to speak with her and that opportunity is perfect, rather than having to wait for her to finish her shift.

"I am assigned here, but if my coworkers need me, I'll have to leave you alone and help outside, Sir." She has no idea why he would want to know something like that and it kinda creeps her out.

"Good, because I need to speak with you. It's good that we stopped here to have my daily dose of coffee." He looks at Jon and Sheamus: the first rolls his eyes, the latter chuckles instead.

"He can't live without coffee, don't mind him too much." Sheamus sits comfortable on the couch, smirking at Claudio.

"Stop that, Sheamus." Claudio rolls his eyes as well, glancing back at the girl. "Put in an order for an iced caramel macchiato for me, please." He is strangely tender and gentle this time around.

"Black coffee both for me and Jon here." Sheamus adds, elbowing the other man when he groans.

Y/N nods and sends the order, standing there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. "So..."

"No, let me speak, Y/N." Claudio stops her from speaking any further, still being gentle though. "Come here for a moment, please."

"Sir, I don't think -" She looks around: surely her boss or her coworkers can't see her, but that's not professional.

"I won't hurt you. I know our first meet has not been one of the best, but I promise I don't intend to hurt you in any way." He kist lets his hands rest on his knees, after turning around to face her better.

"I..." Y/N sighs, getting some steps closer to him, stopping not too far away. If he reaches a hand out, he can touch her.

"Good girl." He sits back in his chair, so that she can feel less tense about the whole situation. "I knew you could be a good girl for me." He slowly raises a hand until it reaches some strands of her long hair, snaking through them.

Y/N looks at his hand, following each of his movements, holding her breath until she is sure he won't really touch her so directly. She wasn't prepared to get praised by him. so she isn't sure about what she should say. "I haven't -"

"Sh..." Claudio shushes her, raising his hand until it reaches her lips and he places a finger on it, lightly pressing on it. Her shaky breath seems to be engulfing it and that makes him smirk. That girl really is interesting.

She can feel her heart beat faster, her breath catches up, but she can't bring herself to react, apart from still melting because of the praise. She bites her lower lip, torturing it.

"Very good girl, listening to me." He taps on her lips. "Don't torture this cute lips." He smirks, letting her finally peaceful. "On a more serious note: I wanted to apologize for what you had to see. I apologize that you had to see that part of me." He sighs. "Your big brother owes me a lot of money and I can't wait forever to get it back." Claudio hates to have to tell her that, but he is sure Darby hasn't told her anything, even with the last timeline he has given him.

"Darby what?" She gasps, shocked at those words. "Why..." Her mind races, she doesn't understand why he never told her anything, not even after what happened some days prior. She takes a couple of steps back, almost as if she has burnt herself.

"I am sure he loves you so much he didn't want to drag you into this mess." Claudio lets her take distance, but he is not at fault there.

"How much does he owe you?" She may not have much on the side, because of university fees, but she wants to do something.

"Why do you want to get involved, Y/N?" Claudio is amused once again, but she is different from before.

"They have done so much for me, I owe them so much, so please do tell me. I'll do anything." She rubs a hand on her arm, nervous now.

"I appreciate you wanting to help, but a woman is not in a man's business. Your brothwr knew what he was getting into when he signed a deal with me." The gentle tone is now gone.

"Don't hurt him please!" Tears threaten to roll down her cheeks and she feels like she is about to have a mental break down. "Is... Is there any way for me to help them out?" She needs to go take some fresh air, but she has to work as well.

"There is literally nothing you can give me or that you can do, Miss Y/N. Your brother is a little weasel, he'll go around, tell that I let him go and everyone will think I have become soft." He pinches his nose, now he only wants his coffee, he feels bad enough for her.

"I'm sorry Sir. I'll bring your order quickly."

She is relieved when she hears the bell with which her coworker Jenny is calling her. She lets the three men alone, getting their order from the counter with a smile. She is back into the room not long after, leaving the coffees in front of them without a single word, before getting out another time.

"Jenny, can you please cover me for a moment? My stomach is hurting." She just eeds to go to the bathroom and cry, she can't hide the tears anymore.

"Of course Y/N, just go."

Y/N can tell that Jenny is concerned, worried about her, but she smiles fondly at her, running to the bathroom, where she leans against the door, finally letting the tears stream down her cheeks. She absolutely has to find a way to help her brother out, but she can't think straight at the moment. It takes her a few minutes before she is calm enough to get out there after wiping her cheeks. She assures the boss that she can go on working, now feeling better, before Jenny gets back to her.

"They are waiting for you. I tried to help them out, but they were very adamant on having you there, Y/N." She smirks at her. "You never told me you have such handsome friends."

"Thanks for covering. I'll get back to them." You blush at her smirk, even though they are not her friends, they are indeed handsome. "Because they are not my friends." Y/N leaves her there, going back to the lounge. "I'm sorry, here I am." She smiles as much as she can, but her eyes decieves her.

"May I get another iced caramel macchiato, please?" Claudio looks up at her, feeling bad at seeing her red eyes. "You have been crying." He finally states, confusing her.

"Sure, Sir. Anything else for you as w-?" Why would he even care about that? "Something got in my eyes, Sir." When Sheamus and Jon both shake their heads, she sends the new order.

"Here, take this." He hands her his business card. "We'll be back in five day, but if you want, you can call me before and we can come to some sort of agreements."

Y/N takes the card cautiously, turning it around in her hands for some moments. "What kind of agreements? I want to know the options beforehand." But should she really do something like that?

"You come stay with us for a whole year. I'll take care of you, of course. If by the end of that period you fall in love with me, your family's debt will be extinguished and you'll stay with me, If it doesn't happen, at the end of the year you are free to go back to your family and the debt will be extinguished as well." Claudio doesn't think too much about it, he is sure of himself. "You can add stipulations, of course."

"Da f'ck? Are ya outt' yar mind, Claudio?" Jon rolls his eyes, quite shocked at those words.

"Let's pretend I'm okay with this stipulation..." Y/N starts to say, getting Claudio's complete attention. "I still want to be able to go to university. To become a doctor has always been my dream and I've sacrificed so much for it. Plus, from time to time, I still want to work at this coffee shop, exactly like nothing happened." She waits eagerly for his answer, really hoping he would be okay with that.

"Fine, that's a possible deal. Think about this and let me know. If I don't hear from you, we'll surely see each other when the time is over."

Claudio stands up, leaves her 50 dollars, letting her know she can keep the change, before walking out with Sheamus and Jon. She just nods, taking the cash, changing it at the register. For the reminder of the time, she works flawlessly.

*********

Four days after, Y/N is laying down on her bed, turning the business card in her hands with a heavy sigh. She knows very well that her brother hasn't gathered enough money,m even without knowing exactly how much he owes that man. The house is silent: her parents are at work and Darby is... Somewhere. She has woken up completely alone, so she has no idea where he has gone. Reaching out to her phone which is on the nightstand, she unlocks it, typing the number written on that damn card.

"Claudio Castagnoli speaking." His voice is calm as he answers at the third ring.

"It's Y/N." She tells him, his voice once again sending chills down her spine.

"I was thinking you would never call me. You are amusing me each day that passes." Claudio grins: he knows what that call is about. "What do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"Let's do it. 365 days. If I fall in love I'll stay with you, if not I can come back here when it is over." She states quickly, before she can change idea. "With my stipulations too." She finally adds.

"You made the right decision, Y/N. Pack your things, I0m picking you up in 30 minutes." He stands up to get ready.

"My motorbike as well, of course." She says firmly.

"We'll get that taken care of as well."

When he gets there, he lets her know with a message, helping her to load the suitcases in the limo. She looks back at her house, sighing sadly. She is doing that for her family, but she'll still miss them dearly. It is hard to go without saying goodbye, but if she stays, it'll be even harder to go.

[afataldesign]

Rachel Joy Scott

My next few posts will be telling the stories of the Columbine victims in order. THE FIRST KILLED On April 20th 1999, Rachel Scott was the first victim.

At the time of the massacre she was 17 years old and a junior at Columbine.

ABOUT RACHEL

She was an outgoing person, a ray of sunshine. She was a Christian and would stand up for what she believed in.

She also was an aspiring writer and actress. She often wrote in her journal and had performed a mime dance in 1998, a year before the massacre.

She was the middle of 5 children. Craig being to most outspoken of the siblings. (I believe he’s the other kid in the GIF above)

WHAT SHE LEFT BEHIND/HER LEGACY “Don't let your character change color with your environment. Find out who you are and let it stay it's true color.” - Rachel Scott Rachel’s death wasn’t just the end of her story. It was a new beginning. Not only were her journals left behind, but they sparked something new. With the help of her family and friends wonderful things have happened under her name. The most notable is Rachel’s challenge (https://rachelschallenge.org) Which has saved many lives

HER LAST JOURNAL ENTRY

Just before the massacre Rachel would unknowingly enter her last entry for her journal. This entry had a drawing of a pair of eyes crying onto a rose. 13 tears to be exact, which is the same number of victims of the massacre that would happen only a few hours later.

HER CAR

“In my eyes, she was just one of those kinds of people you know you won't ever meet again“

“She was the kind of person only born once." After her death, many of her friends turned her car into a memorial sight.

Below is her grave and various other images that I couldn’t categorize

FINALLY, HER AUTOPSY REPORT

[the-kr8tor]

Sometimes I think about my OC (Could be R too tbh) who is a fallen "Angel" because she was born in a crime family, witnessed all the people doing horrible things her whole life yet still decided to trust in humanity because of how kind and caring and loving her (said crime) family is. Also her family is kinda "preserving the family business" kinda crime family and tbh did more good for their community then their corrupted PD and government could do so, it's so natural that she tries to see good in everyone. But Fate was never on her side, like she could be the unluckiest being in her universe. (If there's a hypothetically an always winning horse and she bets on it, that horse will get lose every time she bet kinda level unlucky LOL) hen she gets 🕷🕸 power, it was so painful. Like normal spidey get bitten and they're not even caring more than a flinch, right? I was inspired by a headcanon that Hobie's spiderbite event would be more painful and severe than normal "peter's spidey" or Miles' one would because his would be the spider that crawled out of frickin radioactive wastes, hence stronger reaction to the body. And I couldn't think of other ways except that scene you wrote in TTN. I'd like the irony of a teenager who's afraid of spider and heights becoming a spidey, lolol. also thinks of Angel not only having severe reaction for the bite because it alters her sensory and skin, it's all she got. Like sure, now she can feels more vibrations against her skin if the distance is near enough(constant annoying spidersense) and she can crawl against wall now, but not much strength enhancement, no natural webbing, no strong healing, etc. Thank god that she's too durable orignally because she'd be long gone even before meeting Hobie if not, LMAO. Basically, the supposed "power ups" are contradicted to her fears but she tries and makes things work, yk. She's so naive, and childish and friendly sometimes. Girlie trusted someone falling down on her through the multiversal tube line (Hobie) right on the scene. No questions asked I would trust whatever his pretty arse sprew abt too tbh They became friends, he becomes her moon as she shines on him like the first ray of sunshine in the morning (I'd say Hobie's pretty cooked when he described her like that since he's from London-)but THEY NEVER CONFESSED BUT BUT... When Hobie finally brings out the courage to ask her out because he just realized how dangerous their line of work is and wants to say it to her before one of them is gone... She died from blood loss after bleeding out all night after her last fight with Green Goblin and stopping his crime family went downhill because Goddamn Capt. Stacy not only snitched her out but also led her to the wrong death end so she's cornered... He did those because Gwen and Peter are held hostage but I still hate him for the writing decisions I made<//3 After Hobie reached her and tried to stop the pale blue body that had too much cut on the beautiful face he admired so much in silence while sobbing, it was finally the moment that Death claimed her after a long agonizing, bleeding night, right on his arm... Thank you for listening to my rant ted talk~ -🦊

Me on the first half:

Angel has such an interesting back story!! I love her already 😍 Hobie's reaction to her being a crime lord's kid would either be hilarious or a real wtf expression

Lmaoo true I'd trust hobie with my life

Me reading the end:

DAMN U CAPT STACY!!!

They never confessed 😭😭😭😭😭😭 POOR HOBIE HE HAS ANOTHER CANON EVENT 😔

Thank u for the ted talk ❤️