#she's too cool to tie them properly

[mushyfart]

very rushed but there was an opportunity and I had to take it

edit: changed the mirror due to popular demands

[barcaatthemoon]

friend of the bride || lia walti x reader ||

You hook up with Lia at your best friend's wedding.

MINORS DNI, 18+, Smut warning.

You knew about Lia. You had never played against Lia, but you knew all about her. It was your job to know about football, both international and domestic. She hadn't played in the NWSL, but you were a pretty big Arsenal fan even before she had joined up. But even before then, you had heard people in the business talking about the Swiss player.

It made sense that she'd be in the bridal party. Lia was Ana's best friend, and maid of honor. In a way, you thought it was wild that the two of you weren't better acquainted. Obviously you understood Ana being hesitant about introducing the two of you. You were a bit of a womanizer to say the least, even if you had settled down quite a bit since starting your gig as an official NWSL commentator.

"Excuse me, I don't know if we know each other. I'm (Y/n)." You could feel Ana's eyes on you as you approached Lia. There weren't many people that made you nervous, but your best friend's new wife was definitely one of them. The two of you had been teammates years ago whenever Ana played on the Thorns, and maybe, just maybe, you had seen a spark all those years ago.

Nothing had ever come of it, and you were happier because of it. Ana was cool, and she definitely would have hated you whenever you transferred across the country at the end of the year. You weren't a native to New Jersey, but Rutgers had offered you a full ride, so you counted yourself as a bit of a Jersey girl. Sky Blue wasn't perfect by any means, but it was definitely the place that you had wanted to retire playing for.

"I'm Lia, and no, we haven't been properly introduced," she said. She outstretched her hand, and you took the offering. Behind you, you could practically feel Ana attempting to burn holes into the back of your head to deter you. "My friend is watching us."

"If I'm being honest, I don't blame her. She's heard stories of how I can be at weddings." Bashful wasn't something that normally worked well with you, but Lia found the blush cute. It became obvious as she patted the chair in front of her that she knew a bit about you. Ana had to have warned her before either of you arrived in Seattle for the wedding.

"I've heard stories of how you are away from weddings. I get it though, life feels a bit more special with all of this love in the air," Lia said. You thought that she was sweet, and a part of you was about to back out when she grabbed onto your wrist. "I fly out tomorrow afternoon, and I'd hate to leave without as many good memories as I can get."

"She'll kill me if we leave together," you told Lia. She glanced behind you and waved at Ana. You did everything in your power not to turn, but Lia seemed amused by whatever was going on behind you. "Is she being mean?"

"Not at all, but you should say your goodbyes and get your coat. I'm in room 615," Lia told you. She slipped her key card in your pocket, and you wondered how long she had been watching you. Lia left first, leaving you to sit there stunned for a moment. It was hasty, but you said your goodbyes and promised Ana that you'd be safe with her friend. She was a bit dismissive, but you didn't miss the little twinkle in her eye. If you had any more to drink, you would have considered that she was happy about you and Lia running off together.

It seemed almost too good to be true that Lia's room was on the same floor as yours. You made a quick stop at your own room to shed your suit jacket and make sure that you still looked good. Your room was only a few doors down from Lia's, and you wondered if she had seen you at all over the week. The entirety of the wedding party had been flown in several days earlier than all of the other guests, and you doubted the maid of honor had been an exception to that.

"You left your jacket. That's a shame, it looked good. At least I can still do this," Lia said as she grabbed you by your tie and pulled you into the room. You stumbled a little, but caught yourself as Lia's arms wrapped around your shoulders. She was still in her dress, but without her heels on, you were a couple inches taller than her. "You know, I had always hoped you would find your way to the WSL. I would have liked to play against you."

"I bet we could have had a lot of fun together." Lia seemed to catch onto the hidden meaning of your words quickly. You were a bit surprised by her forwardness as she kissed you. It was welcome, as was the feeling of her hands pulling your button out from where it had been tucked into your pants.

The women you hooked up with had all definitely wanted you, but they were rarely as confident in themselves as Lia. She was sweet and gentle, but it wasn't submissive in the slightest. She took what she wanted without overstepping, and it took you several moments for your brain to kick in and join her.

"Take my dress off," Lia told you. You didn't hesitate for even half a second to turn the Swiss woman around. There was a little clasp by the small of her back, and once it was undone, Lia let the dress slip off from her body and pool onto the floor.

You could see that her chest was bare, but that did nothing to prepare you for the sight of her. She stood in front of you completely topless. You weren't being subtle in your staring, but Lia didn't seem to mind it. She let you keep staring as she pushed you back onto the bed. Lia climbed onto your lap, and there she sat straddling you as she looked down at you.

"There are plenty of more comfortable places for you to sit," you started. Lia showed her amusement with a little half-smirk. Normally, your jokes garnered a bit more of a reaction, and the fact that she hadn't given you one made you want to try again. You wanted to impress this woman with every part of you, and you had no idea why. Nobody was supposed to mean this much to you, not for a single night anyway.

"I'm already practically naked on top of you, lines aren't necessary," Lia told you. You nodded and swallowed, somewhat nervous as she stared at you. It was like she was studying you, less out of curosity, but more in the way a predator would study its prey. "You're wearing too much, and I'd hate to ruin your very nice suit."

You nearly let out a whine as Lia moved off of you. You scrambled off of the bed and hastily undressed yourself, not caring that for a moment, you were more bare than she was. Lia hummed in appreciation as you stood in front of her, completely naked. She guided you down onto your knees in front of her and leaned over her own lap to kiss you.

"Show me what you can do. I hope everything I've heard about you is true," Lia said. Even after she broke the kiss, you didn't stop kissing her. Your mouth moved all over her neck and jaw, occasionally stopping to mark a couple of hickeys for her to take as a temporary souvenir. You were a lot less careful with your marking whenever you got to her chest, sucking as many love bites onto her skin as you could.

Lia tried not to rush you, but you could tell that her patience was growing thin. She ground herself against the palm of your hand as you cupped her over her underwear. You let out a pleasured groan at the feeling of her heat through the fabric. You could practically feel her arousal growing as she moved against your hand.

"More, I want more," Lia told you. You took your time teasing her as you took her underwear off. Your face was buried into the side of her thigh when your attention was pulled by a frustrated growl. Lia looked down at you with a look so sweet that you almost got whiplash from the way her hand balled into a fist around your hair.

You let her guide your face, only sticking your tongue out to give her something to seek out. Lia loosened her grip when she felt your lips wrap around her clit. Her thighs clamped around your head, holding you against her as she rocked her hips back and forth gently. You pried her thighs apart to make room for your fingers to tease at her entrance, stroking over the hole with the promise of penetration.

This time, Lia didn't have to ask or tell you to keep going. Once you got into your groove, everything came very naturally to you. Lia was moving wildly on the bed, each buck of her hips punctuated by a little creak of the bed. Between Lia's moaning, the bed creaking, and the absolutely obscene sound of your fingers fucking in and out of her, there wasn't a moment of silence.

"That's it, right there. Don't you dare stop. Oh fuck!" Lia exclaimed. You felt a sharp tug to your hair as her other hand wrapped around the back of your neck. You could feel her nails dig into your skin, but the pain of it just made your eyes roll back in your head a little. Above you, Lia's body held you close even as she tried to squirm away from you, torn between wanting to stop and wanting to see just how hard you could make her cum. Ultimately, she ended up pushing you away just a couple minutes later as her body began to approach overstimulation.

"I think you did a number on me," you muttered as you rubbed at the little nail indents on the back of your neck. Lia sat up on her elbows, just enough to see her reflection in the TV. She looked gorgeous to you, disheleved in the most perfect of ways. There was no denying what had just happened, not when you looked at Lia.

"I can do a lot worse," Lia laughed. You clammed up a bit at her words. You had no idea what was wrong with you because Lia shouldn't have been getting to you this badly. She was practically a stranger, and yet, you didn't want to just gather your clothes and run off to your own room just yet. "If you ever find yourself in London, message me. Now though, I think you should get going. Guests are going to be back any moment now."

"I've never been asked out and kicked out at the same time. You are something else," you said in disbelief. Lia could tell that you weren't angry, and just to keep it that way, she walked you out. A part of you wanted to linger, but aside from a pretty chaste kiss, Lia didn't give you the opportunity. You just had to hope that you'd catch her before she ran off the next day, but even if you didn't, you couldn't be mad about how your night went.

[mmani-e]

I've finally finished my Danganronpa AU personal project! I personally call it

DANGANRONPA: DEMIX

See Demix 1 here

And yeah, all the swaps as you can see above, and these guys in the middle are the replacements for Monokuma and Usami respectively:

Check out under the cut for some design insights on my take AND closer pictures of each pair:

Finally finished my personal AU project. I hope it's to everyone's liking!

I can go on forever about these designs but I'll limit myself to one-two sentences on some facts about the designs.

Mikan: Mikan's face tattoo was commissioned on her against her will so that she can never hide her nature as a Yakuza, but her leg tattoo was done on purpose, and she and Nagito have matching tattoos on their legs, his is just hidden most the time.

Nagito: He is usually seen with a spear and prefers the weapon over the sword, but he is more famous for his natural skill with the blade. That said, he resents the blade and wishes he could be recognized for the things he actually works hard to do, like throwing spears or protecting Mikan and her family.

Ibuki: I kept her design very similar to her base design because she pretty much just looks like a student, and I don't want to change anyone's personality so there's no reason for her to not get highlights. But I gave her some more symmetry in this design and gave her a cute little semi ahoge I guess with a hair tie, bc she doesn't naturally have one.

Imposter/Gamemaster: Yeah I made the big brain choice to keep him with his colors as "Byakuya" because it made for a more striking visual, and more recognizeable as the impostor. Also I made him too tall because I wanted to give him big legs lol.

Hiyoko: Her four cats are named Heart (scraggly cat), Mr. Pearls (sleepy cat), Big Red (Giant cat), and BB (black cat) bc canonically the four dark devas are named after shonen manga, I named her cats after pokemon games, which she canonically likes playing. Also chickens are her favorite animal, despite her love of cats.

Kazuichi: Kazuichi's not a natural born prince, through shenanigans it turns out he's extremely distantly related to some royal line in a microstate north of germany called "Nordsumpf." Their main exports are cars and Kazuichi is still new to being a prince.

"Kyoko": She'd try her best to act like Kyoko, but she's a little too meek and openy affectionate to pull it off properly. Also her knockers are way bigger than Kyoko's, so there's an immediate discrepancy to the trained eye.

Also in my au of DR1, Kyoko is the ultimate affluent progeny and Makoto is author/serial killer.

Hajime: His hair is actually extremely long back there, he just keeps it tied up. On shows he lets it all out and a wears red contacts, his stage name is "Izuru."

Sonia: Sonia became a team manager because she was escaping an assasination attempt, strolled into a junior laegue soccer game, took over for the coach and started just barking orders and the team won. They were the worst team in the whole league and after that she just sorta stuck around them and won them the championships.

Gundham: Gundham was orginally meant to wear the japanese flag… but there was too much white in his design so I cut it. He has names for all of his gymnast moves and he announces them very loudly when he does any of them.

Peko: I tried to give Peko a unique sort of "zombie survivor" kinda vibe so while she's clearly a mechanic first she can also just fucking kill you by braining you with that monkey wrench. Most of the time she's cool though, she's just like horribly dependent on other people to tell her what to do, so she attaches to Kazuichi because he's the most immediately available authority figure.

Fuyuhiko: He's got that sort of machismo that makes him not like to admit he loves dancing, but the moment he's complimented on it he'll really appreciate it. Also he's still part of a crime family, but it's just not as strong as Mikan's.

Akane: She really looks sporty still, but don't worry she's definitely "lucky," she's just much more focused on the future than her bad luck in the moment… which can be very bad, actually, and can make her come across as kind of aloof.

Nekomaru: Why is nurse Nekomaru not as common a thing. Just think about it, it's perfect. Nekomaru here got inspired by the bravery and hard work of the nurses that treated him and boom he became a nurse, nobody tougher than healthcare professionals after all.

Mahiru: Mahiru as a nurse is honestly a really really really fun concept but I feel like I wasn't very ambitious here, and I can't really show it through the drawing but one of my early drafts had her look more like a european chef a la gordon ramsey bc I headcanon her as a scot.

Teruteru: Decided to give him a raincoat which my sister pointed out to me could also be a trenchcoat, which is just PERFECT for a creep like him. It just writes itself man, though seriously he's mostly a landscape photographer who specializes in pics of the countryside. Still a huge perv tho.

Usowa: Name is a combo of Usagi and Chowa, the word for Harmony. She's less like a chaotic force of nature like Monokuma and more a manipulative and hardline teacher who coaxes the students into doing awful things by playing into their insecuritoies with motives, and which then causes them to kill, allowing her to punish them, "weeding out the weak and undisciplined among their ranks." She replaces Monokuma.

Kyojuma: Name is a combo of Kyoju (professor) and Kuma. He's a pretty silly guy with an easy temper to poke at, but he's good at heart and tries his best to be a more sort of "fun" teacher than the rules lawyer Usami kinda was. He just wants to help his students, too bad Usowa showed up and decidedly does NOT like his approach.

[diorgirl444]

From one matt dilly girl to another...🤨

cowboy!dallas how do we feel

Like full on texan accent omggg- 🤭🤭

you get it oh my godddddd. maybe bcs i’m english but this is so mouthwatering to me i can’t even lie to you!!! so much that i’ve written a few cutesy lil hcs for it xxx

cowboy! dallas winston x farmer’s daughter! reader

warnings: bad writing! (girlies i’ve never kissed anyone or flirted so my expression only comes from writing fanfiction so it may not be the most realistic i’m afraid), fem! reader, very self indulgent, unspecified time period. poor understanding of american history i’m english please go easy on me, idk how many words <3

• okay so i see your cowboy! dallas winston and i raise you runaway outlaw! dallas winston posing as a farmhand on reader’s family farm

• i’m thinking he’s an outlaw because after getting in a fight with his alcoholic father he ran away with their horse and in order to survive he stole from carriages and things. a regular billy the kid you know?

• except it’s not easy for a seventeen year old out on his lonesome on all that land and with the law looking for you. but he has no choice so he keeps running till he reaches a farm far, far out west. that night he is so, so tired that he hides in their barn planning to wake up early so he doesn’t get caught.

• but he hasn’t been able to sleep properly in days so he fully crashes. he wakes up that morning with a girl leaning over him pressing her cool hand to his forehead, the sunlight from the open barn makes her hair like a halo and she’s in a beautiful white nightdress and so he briefly wonders if he’s died and she’s one of heavens angels.

• the allusion shatters when she’s realised he’s woken and she calls “daddy he’s alive!” and then his eyes widen and he realises there’s a whole family crowded around him. he excepts to be shouted, to be threatened maybe even hit but instead the wrinkled old man who he assumes is the father of the house says in a gruff but not unkind voice “you got a place to stay son?”

• dallas is vaguely aware that he doesn’t know these people that they could report him to their nearest sheriff or worse eat him or something gruesome like that. but something about the apple cheeked girl, the twin little boys in mismatched plaid and the kind eyes in the wrinkled faces of the parents has him feeling at ease and so he admits “no sir”

• the mother nudges her husband who nods before speaking “well sonny you’re in luck. i’m in need of a farmhand. can’t pay ya but i can offer ya food and board for you and that horse of yours. does that sound like a deal boy?” dallas nods, hardly believing his luck.

• the girl smiles widely and softly whispers to him “i told daddy we should keep you” he decides not to tell her that she could keep him forever if she wanted. maybe it’s a bit early for that yet.

• he falls into a routine pretty quickly at the farm. he does all the hard labour that the father of the house is too old to do now like cutting firewood or rounding the cattle up. he always catches sight of the girl picking fresh fruit and prancing around the farm in her cute little cowboy boots and his heart aches.

• what he doesn’t know is the parents have noticed the way him and their daughter look at each other or ankles press together under the table so they’re always trying little things to get them together. like sending her out to give him glasses of sweet iced tea or getting him to ride their horses with her.

• it finally happens though late one hot august evening. the farm is lazy for a change with most people napping trying to beat the heat. she’s eating cherries and staining lips and hands on the porch swing whilst intently a very sweaty shirtless dallas work on the farm.

• he catches her looking and grins saying “you know what they say about cherry stems?” she shakes her head, batting her lashes at him absentmindedly and he seems to grin even wider.

• “well if you can tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. means you’re a good kisser” his honeyed southern tone drawls out.

• almost in a trance she hands him a cherry stem and flushes bright red when he cockily sticks his tongue out flashing the knotted up cherry stem. “my turn” she tells him trying to distract herself from the growing butterflies in her stomach.

• “nah doll i got another way to check for you” before she can ask what is, he’s leaning over the porch railings and kissing her. she eagerly kissed him back letting her cherry stained fingers grab onto his hair and he’s groaning slightly against his lips. they probably would of gone further has it not been for the cough behind them.

• they awkwardly pull away, her with red cheeks and dallas with red ears and they meet her fathers gaze “happy to see you two finally pulled it together but if you’re gonna act like dogs in heat do that where the lord can’t see you, hm kids?” he gives them a knowing smile as he walks off.

• and well they listen to him and disappear off the barn hand in hand just as they one day will leave the local chapel dressed in white….

[kindaasrikal]

Kai headcanons because I’m tired and cant think of anything else:

Kai both does and doesn’t have a concept of monetary value. Like imagine they go grocery shopping and they need to buy essentials like ingredients, veggies, hygiene stuff to stock up on. Like usually whenever the other ninja went with their families they were able to buy some extras like candy or toys, maybe some more clothes despite having many just cause they like it or smth. With Kai? This guy slaps it out of their hands and says it’s not worth the waste when they’re only here for essentials. Wu gave them money for that only, so they best budget and make sure they can buy everything they need and maybe some extras of those things or else. None of them realise how confused Wu is when a proud Kai returns believing he saved up money by being smart and responsible, when Wu actually gave them extras to use there as like an implied thing. But when it comes to things of value, this guys has no idea what to do, take for example with Ronin. He had no idea how much the thing could cost but knew they had to pay it or else. But he’s also horrible at negotiating because he can’t properly understand the worth of what they’re negotiating the deal on and can’t see when it might be worse or better.

Kai was a shockingly quiet kid. Like yes he was still ‘aggressive’ and rude, but like never spoke on his own. Nya was always the talker between the two, but even she doesn’t talk as much as often. So usually Kai would silently accept a lot of things as a child until he grew older and got a bit of an attitude so despite being often silent that one quiet kid in the back who does everything right will and probably has cussed you out if you step out of line.

Nya actually cut Kai’s hair when they were younger because she was bored and Kai fell for her trap and ended up thinking it wad a great idea since his hair had gotten too long. She messed it up however since, you know, she was like max 6, and Kai’s hair came out nothing like the picture they had of their dads. Kai almost cried at how it didn’t turn out like how he wanted when Nya giggled and said his hair looks like a “Really cool fireee!”. No, Nya does not remember that she’s the reason Kai keeps his hair like that.

Kai loves fish, he likes dragging Nya outside to summon some and makes her stay with him until he’s bored. Nya likes eating fish.

Kai likes jumping into his rlly bulky and tall mechs and then posing like a school girl or a cute model in them. Jay once managed to convince him to Jojo pose and they distracted an enemy because of it. Cole and Lloyd cussed them out, except Cole couldn’t stop laughing and Lloyd’s hair kept blowing in the wind dramatically every time he changed his position so it looked like he posing. He made them run up and down the monastery mountain steps five times each way. Cole too.

You know those really cute candle holders? So like Kai convinced Pixal to make him a fire proof bear suit, wore it outside in the dark, in the middle of the training ground, with everyone asleep. He lit himself on fire and he looked like a glowing monster bear with teeth and blood (shadows and ketchup, he was hungry). He thought it looked cute and cool. Zane screaming, malfunctioning, and then screeching “THY BEAST MUST BE SLAIN!” And shooting ice at him was not a part of the plan (Zane watched Macbeth the movie before sleeping). Both refuse to apologise to each other but after a day of ignoring one another Jay watches as Kai clings to a Zane full koala like when he’s doing chores.

Cole tries to teach Kai how to draw. Kai, for the life of him, cannot. Even stickmen look wonky and wrong.

Kai, surprisingly enough, has amazing handwriting. Everyone gets him to write stuff like letters for them because either theres is worse then a kid in nursery, or they wanna impress someone.

Kai really likes having something around his arms, like bandages, gloves, cloth, anything. For special events, he lets Cole tie silk ribbons around his arms like bandages.

Kai wishes he had soft hands. Everyone loves the feeling of his rough hands though. It comforts them.

Kai also loves cracking his knuckles. He loves doing it around Wu, who hates the noise and smacks Kai with his staff, who cackles and does it again.

At bad times in his life, Kai sits and lights a fire when the moon is at its highest point, out in the dark where it’s cold.

Kai loves stealing Jay’s action figures by accident. Jay was annoyed at first until he saw Nya giving Skylor an unintentional wide eyed look whilst holding a doll after Skylor said “oh, yeah i forget i had this old thing, don’t really like it tbh” disinterestedly. Jay put together whats what when Skylor blinked and said Nya could have it with a grin, who legit giggled. Nya. Giggling. Jay puts his action figures on a shelf and never touches them, giving an impression to someone who isn’t a collector (who couldn’t afford to be one) that they aren’t that important. Jay begins buying more action figures and other stuff he usually wouldn’t but knows Kai or Nya would love and leave it somewhere like it’s always been there. Says something under is breath just loud enough for a peeping ear to hear about how he might throw it away, and the next day its gone. Sometimes, he outright hands it to them saying he doesn’t like it but doesn’t wanna waste it. The other ninja, plus Pixal and Wu, pick up whats going on and do the same. Later in the years (after the re-design and sog) Kai and Nya long picked up on whats going on, they still love it regardless because it makes them feel less guilty (no no guys they definitely didn’t break down sobbing after Jay gave them a water themed colouring book for adults and Kai a mimic of Mitsuri Kanroji’s sword from demon slayer (a fake), definitely not.)

(Lowkey just realised this is very similar to a Morro fanfic of ao3, No i did not realise it when i wrote it but i do now, its where Morro likes collecting seemingly useless stuff left in places no one would leave smth special at. It’s because Morro was a homeless orphan, so he takes useless things in to give them importance. Love that head canon and fanfic it’s on ao3 guys omg. Imagine resurrected Morro doing that and Kai and Nya just realising in horror that THEY do that too. They get it, and dammit Morro is more similar to them than they would’ve liked.)

Kai totally likes wearing those happy birthday head bands even when it’s not his birthday and acts like he isn’t. If someone says happy birthday to him, he looks at them all judgy like and says “Its not my birthday? What gave you that impression?”

Kai actually easily gets sick, and hates it. The others have to time his down so he’ll actually get rest and not just push through it regardless. It takes summoning the duo of Wu AND Maya to get him to stop.

When the og four ninja met for the first time and right after they stopped Garmadon and got back to their realm, they still hadn’t actually gotten to know each other so Kai used to run away from them like the secret introvert he was groomed into being and it took Nya tackling him to get him to finally play those “super cringy bonding games”

Kai was subjected to Lloyd’s glowing green eyes staring at him constantly with no words exchanged. When the silence got too much and Lloyd just kept staring Kai asks what his problem is. Lloyd says “oh nothing, muchacho” and Kai realises Lloyd is still petty over what happened in the first episode.

Yeah thats all i got i think I’m sick shdgfv

[russellsppttemplates]

I'm his what? (Charles Leclerc)

Despite the initial uncertainty, your and Charles' take on the baby shower was perfect for you

Note: english is not my first language. I haven't written for Charles in so long and I must say I missed doing it 🥹

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy

The concept of baby showers had always left you a bit on the fence. While you didn't have anything against them, and rather enjoyed gifting the parents to be and celebrate the new addition, you were fortunate enough to be able to sort things out on your own. Like so, you and Charles went back and forth with the idea of having a traditional baby shower, deciding to give your own twist to it, the idea coming from one of your appointments when you noticed an association that helped new parents and was calling for any donations anyone could do. So, while you welcomed any gifts your guests wanted to give your family, you also encouraged them to donate something they could to the cause, having also decided to know the gender beforehand as you had grown irritated of people trying to guess what you were having. At the end of it, you and Charles wanted to have a gathering with your close family and friends to celebrate and welcome the new baby boy into the family.

"Do you think it was a bad decision?", you asked Charles as he helped you tie the bow in the back of your dress, "I just didn't want to make a big fuss, like, I already had people throwing guesses left and right, because my bump was too big or too small, because I looked like I was having twis and people calling me out for a fake pregnancy, I-, I just needed it to be low-key", you turned to face him, desperately wanting some reassurance.

"Amour, it's what you felt most comfortable with, right?", you nodded and he proceeded, "it's what we wanted, right? To gather everyone important for us in a comfortable setting. If anyone has something to say or point out, then it's they're problem, not ours. I want you to be comfortable, and if there is ever a moment that you don't feel it, you tell me and I'll deal with it. I don't care if I have to tell everyone to leave right then and there, because I'll do it if it means you're okay, that you're both okay. Is that understood?", Charles asked sincerely, the assertiveness in his voice clear as you had dealt with difficult and uncomfortable situations more times that he would've hoped just because you didn't want to seem rude.

Sighing in awe of him, you pecked his lips, holding his face between your hands, "understood, I love you", you smiled, kissing his lips properly before parting, holding his hand as you both walked dowstairs.

Greeting the catering team that had dropped off the food for the last time, you thanked them for their beautiful work before you headed to the garden. The sunny day had a certain breeze, making the outside temperature cool enough for you to be okay with having to stay in garden since the pregnancy had left you a lot more sensitive to the temperature.

People started to arrive, Pascale greeting you while she gushed, "chérie, you're glowing!", she kissed your cheek, "look how gorgeous you are! How's little one treating you?", she questioned, asking silently for your permission to touch your bump, smiling when you nodded. "He's been behaving okay, usually Charles is able to calm him down whenever he decides he wants to kung-fu fight in the middle of the night", you giggled with her.

"Yes, maman. Do you know Charles, do you remember him? Your son you seem to have forgotten about?", he teased his mother, kissing her cheeks once she stood up straight, flicking his ear, "how could I forget my most demanding son? It's not my fault one of my amazing daughters in-law is giving me a little grandson and she's an angel", she poked him back, "are you all good, dears? Do you need help with anything?", your mother in-law asked, "no, everything is sorted out, thank you. Just enjoy yourselves, yes?", you said, ushering her and greeting Arthur, Carla, Charlotte and Lorenzo who arrived following their mother.

"Hi, gorgeous mama, how are you?", Charlotte asked, greeting Charles as well, "I hope this one has been treating you well", the brothers teased Charles. Shaking your head while chuckling, "how do you people think Charles is like? I'm all for a little fun and games, but I also feel the duty to tell you that he has been incredible. He's supportive, he's been there everytime I cried about something stupid, everytime I needed to eat something, every appointment he could, and he's rubbed my feet everyday. He's the best", you gushed at Charles, not missing the way his cheeks blushed, "it's what I can do, that's barely worthy of mention", your husband mumbled, being shushed by you kissing his lips, hugging him close to you, "you're the best papa ever", you mumbled against his lips, "and you're still the most lovey dovey couple I've ever met! Oh, those look nice!", Arthur said, fake puking before seeing the food on the table.

You walked along with Charles, picking at some of the food and drinks and greeting the people arriving, eventually getting tired, "I think I'm going to sit, my feet are hurting a little", you patted Charles' chest, hoping he'd stay in the conversation he was having with Joris, "I'll go, too", he said, placing the cup he was drinking from in the table next to him, following you to the set of chairs where Francisca, Pierre and Pascale were chatting, "here, hold my hands", Charles urged you after he tapped the chair to make sure it was well settled on the grass, "Charles, mate, I'm here! My wife is here and your mother is here, do you think we would let her sit wrong?", Pierre scrunched his eyebrows, wondering why Charles was fussing so much, "the grass could be softer on some places and the chair could have the legs unsupported. And, besides, I wanted to sit, too", he said, sitting in the chair next to Pierre so you could rest your feet on your husband's thighs.

"There was this time that Charles only fell asleep on my chest, and I remember cursing about it because I was so tired and, like, we had a perfectly good bassinet for him. But I also remembering wanting him to sleep on my chest when he was older and he was too big for it", Pascale shared, "it truly goes by incredibly fast, and you should enjoy all the moments, even if the ones where you don't see as good because in retrospective, you will miss them".

"Oh, according to my mother, I had trouble sleeping. She could hardly leave the room before I started wailing out", you blushed, "I hope that what goes around, doesn't come around", you chuckled, "but even now I don't need much sleep, maybe that's an advantage", you shrugged your shoulders, "not so soon, Y/N. From what I know from my sisters in-law", Francisca began, "no advantage is functional in the newborn stage", she cringed.

You had been chatting with them when you noticed a board with what looked like a calendar, "what is that?", you pointed, seeing Charlotte adjust her shirt before she walked to stand next to it, grabbing the board and asking Lorenzo for help as they propped it on a chair sp you could see it.

"I know you didn't need all of those things people do, but this one is actually funny and we have some funny answers", she chuckled, allowing you to read the cards. Confirming your theory, it was indeed a calendar of the month you were supposed to be due, all of the dates containing not only the day but also the time they thought your baby boy would be born, along withtl their measurements.

"Who wrote this card here? If my baby is that big, I'm going to be knackered!", you yelled, holding a card with the measurements you were sure belonged to a baby with at least six months. Looking around, your husband's bestfriend kept trying to hold his laugh, failing when he saw the shocked expression on your face, "Charles has a big head, and quite frankly, so do you!", Pierre teased you, earning a flick of his ear from you as soon as you approached him, "you think that's funny? I've been growing bones and organs in the last few months, so, until you do such thing, no talking about the size my baby boy's head", you threatened, "since when do you call Charles your baby boy?", he wondered, "I'm talking about baby Hervé. I know and recognise Charles' head is big, I have eyes", you muttered.

A while later, Charles went to the bathroom and when you noticed it, the song you had both danced at your wedding playing in one of the outside speakers, your husband coming from behind you, "may I have this dance?", he asked, stretching his hand so you could take it, "Do people even dance at baby showers?", you whispered, getting up and lacing your fingers in his and going to the bit where there was pavement, doing your best to embrace eachother given that your bump was growing everyday, "Hervé's baby shower was never going according to tradition, was it?", Charles kissed your forehead, "and besides, we haven't danced together in a good while, and I love having you two close to me", he said, allowing you to cuddle as close to him as humanly possible, "are you enjoying your day?".

You swayed as smoothly as you could, forgetting all about the family and friends all gushing and commenting about how cute you looked, "it's our day, my love. I know you sometimes feels a bit apart because of how this works, but we couldn't be any luckier that you're here for us, that you're Hervé's papa", you smiled, caressing his cheek wirh your hand, "you're a loving, empathetic, honest and kind man, and I couldn't do this adventure into parenthood with anyone but you", you finished, kissing his lips lovingly.

Wiping the tears on your eyes, Charles' hand then travelled to your bump, "I wouldn't do this with anyone else either. You are the love of my life and the one making one of my biggest dreams come true, and I'll spend every day of my life to show you how grateful I am for you and how much I love you", you offered, laying your head on his chest.

"Look at them looking so cute, seems like yesterday they were two idiots in love and everybody but them saw it, and now they're having a kid", Lorenzo pointed out, earning a nod of agreement from Pierre, "it's a good job they had us to set them up".

"Don't think I've forgotten you all but wished my body would fall apart after having this kid, Pierre. I've just stopped contemplating wether or not you're still his godfather. Don't make me rethink it again!", you taunted, "I'm his what?".

[skribbyposts]

Zosan haircut time!!!!

had to write this after getting the idea from my last post lmao. I love the idea of Sanji being like "ugh you look fucking terrible" and then forcing Zoro to take care of himself. they're so stupid and gay and in love omg. beginning part is mostly Zoro and Nami but that's ok because they're wlw/mlm solidarity always!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More than anything, Zoro loves sunbathing on the Sunny's deck. Something about the warm light makes him want to melt into the wood. However, Zoro finds it very hard to enjoy the sun when it is boiling outside, and he swears he can hear his sweat sizzle when it meets the wooden flooring.

"We're going through a summer climate, just wait it out." Nami sips on her martini, laid out on a lounge chair and taking cover under an umbrella.

"Easy for you to say, you witch. You stole all the shade." While Nami's basking in the shadow of her parasol, Zoro's sprawled out on deck, sweating his fucking balls off. His whole body is damp, and he's stripped down into just a pair of loose shorts to cool off.

"Go hang out with your boyfriend in the kitchen," She says.

"He's not my boyfriend. I fucking hate you."

"The feeling's mutual, you sweaty loser."

Zoro groans, peeling himself off of the floor to sit up and comb his fingers through his shaggy hair. It's too long to stay out of the way, and it's uncomfortably wet where it sticks to his forehead. Zoro would tie it back, but it's too short for that. In short, he is suffering.

"I'm gonna die from heatstroke because of you," Zoro shakes the excess moisture from his hands.

Nami scoffs. "Stop whining, hop in the sea or something."

Zoro briefly considers this, but decides that's more effort than it's worth and tries to take a nap instead.

Zoro hears someone stroll out of the galley, and cracks his eye open to see Sanji balancing a tray of smoothies in one hand with a beach towel in the other. He's dressed down, an open Hawaiian shirt and blue shorts replacing his usual suit.

"Hello, my darling, Nami-san! I've just prepared smoothies. Would you like one?"

"Yes, Sanji-- thank you so much," She says smugly, while looking directly at Zoro. "You're a saint, You know that?"

He watches the cook hand Nami a drink from the tray, and Sanji's eyes follow her gaze to the floor where he's lying. "Oh my god, marimo. you look like -excuse my language, Nami-san- a fucking caveman."

"What are you talking about?" Zoro would pick a fight, but it's way too hot to bother.

The blonde cringes. "Your hair looks like someone ate it and then spat it back out onto your head."

"Okay, well, fuck you too then!" God, everyone's out for him today. What has Zoro ever done to deserve this?

"Ugh. Stand up, you dunce." Sanji nudges Zoro's head with a sandaled foot. "You need a haircut."

"I can give myself a haircut." Zoro nods in the direction of his swords, trying to move as little as possible.

"Are you insa- no! I'm cutting your hair, properly. Now get up."

"I don't wanna."

"I swear to god," Sanji sighs. "My dearest Nami, do you mind holding this for a bit?"

Nami peers at the two of them through her oversized sunglasses, a knowing smirk on her face as she takes the tray from Sanji's hands. "No problem."

Zoro doesn't have time to get a word in before Sanji reaches for his ear and bodily drags him all the way to the bathroom.

----- "I don't understand how you let it get this bad," The blonde lectures.

Zoro grumbles as he slouches on a stool in front of the bathroom sink, glaring at his own reflection. Sanji was partially right with his comment earlier - Zoro's hair is a damp, scraggly mess on top of his head right now. From where he is, Zoro can see the cook as he lines up all his fancy hair-cutting stuff, whispering insults under his breath. He looks kind of...domestic, out of his suit. It's the one thing Zoro appreciates whenever the Sunny passes through climates like this. "Okay, I'm going to attempt to fix this mess, and you are going to stay still," Sanji asserts as he slides into place behind Zoro. "as in, do not move."

"I know what 'stay still' means."

"Surprising. I thought you only spoke in grunts."

They both fall silent, Sanji draping a towel over Zoro's shoulders and clicking a button on the clippers in his hand. Gentle fingers push Zoro's head forward to access the strands at the nape of his neck. The whirring of the machinery and Sanji's hums every now and then are the only sounds in the cramped bathroom, and Zoro almost falls asleep to the feeling of the blond's hands in his hair.

"Hey." Sanji delivers two sharp taps to the back of Zoro's head. "Stop slouching, you're making it uneven."

"I'm so hot."

"I'm sure you are, you meathead. sit up."

Zoro begrudgingly straightens his back, getting a better view of the cook's freckled face reflected in the mirror. He always gets freckles when it's sunny out. They look like little constellations, scattered across his cheeks like that. Zoro wants to touch them so badly.

A few minutes pass, and Sanji moves to the front of his hair, taking a black comb from the counter to parse through the mess draping over Zoro's forehead. His face is scrunched in concentration, a crease between his eyebrows visible as he snips away with a pair of silver scissors. Zoro just...watches, staring intently into the other man's eyes. He's not sure if he's delirious from the heat, but is the cook's face turning red?

Sanji pauses his ministrations to frown at him. "Stop fucking looking at me. It's creepy."

"Sorry, sir." That earns him a snort and another smack to the side of his head. Zoro closes his eye (reluctantly. very reluctantly).

It feels like forever before Sanji finishes up his hair, ruffling it slightly before commanding Zoro to open his eyes.

The haircut is cropped close to his neck in the back, his overgrown sideburns shaped to follow his hairline. His hair is still a bit long on top, but it doesn't fall over his face.

Zoro's reflection looks better; neat, almost. He actually really likes it.

"It's okay, I guess." Zoro's lying through his teeth. It's fantastic, anything Sanji ever does is fantastic.

Sanji looks at him through the mirror. "Hm. Handsome little marimo." He nods in self-approval before packing up all his stuff, whisking the towel from around Zoro's shoulders to take to the laundry room.

Zoro sits there, bewildered, watching the other man maneuver around the tiny space unbothered- what?

He turns to look at Sanji as the blonde saunters out of the bathroom, definitely already busying himself with something else.

When Zoro turns back to his reflection, he doesn't fight the tiny smile that crosses his face. Sanji thinks he's Handsome.

The smile's gone just as quick as it came, replaced with a scowl as he hears a female voice giggling through the wall to his right.

"Nami, I'm going to murder you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nami was eavesdropping the entire time lmfao.

Nami, to Zoro: wow so handsome!! such a handsome wittle marimo arent you so wittle?? ooga booga doo!!!

Zoro: i am not above killing lesbians. Anyway BRAND NEW HC that Sanji gets freckles when he's in the sun he's such a cutie patootie i love him.

Pre-slash Zosan domesticity fuels my soul <33333

ALSOO!!! opening up asks cuz im running out of ideas :P if you ask me for something I'll probably write it thanks

[perfectsunlight]

19 ⸺ YERI

warnings: none

word count: 3.6k

part of the series: LOGICAL

“yeri, your shoes are untied.”

the five year old looked down at her shoes, the laces flopping around her tiny ankles. she fumbled with them, her small fingers struggling to tie them properly. her aunt, kim taeyeon, crouched beside her, offering a gentle hand.

“let me help you with that,” taeyeon said, tying the laces with practiced ease. “we wouldn’t want you tripping on the court.”

yeri’s eyes shone with adoration as she looked up at her aunt. she had spent hours watching videos of the olympian playing, studying every move taeyeon made with complete fascination. the sheer power of her gameplay had captivated yeri from a young age, and even though she was young, yeri knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life.

“i want to be just like you, aunt taeyeon,” yeri mentioned as she put her hands on her hips, her voice filled with determination. “i want to be an olympian too.”

taeyeon’s heart warmed at yeri’s words. she had always been a source of inspiration for her niece, but hearing yeri express such a clear desire to follow in her footsteps was both humbling and motivating. she gently ruffled her niece’s hair before standing back up.

“then let's get you started.”

looking back, yeri didn’t know how taeyeon didn’t give up on her. the first time she tried dribbling, the ball bounced off of her foot and went off the court somewhere to the side. when she tried a layup, she jumped far too early and completely missed the backboard. 

each mistake felt like a small defeat, but taeyeon was always there, offering gentle corrections and endless encouragement.

“it’s okay to make mistakes,” taeyeon would say softly. “it’s just another step towards getting better.”

yeri remembered those early sessions vividly—her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her heart sinking with every clumsy move. but her aunt’s unwavering support was like a steady beacon, guiding her through the frustration. whenever yeri felt like giving up, her aunt’s voice reminded her why she started and why it was worth pushing through.

as yeri grew, her skills started to improve, but the journey was far from smooth. she struggled with coordination, her form still imperfect. yet, each small victory—whether it was a successful dribble or a well-placed shot—felt monumental after all the challenges she’d faced. it was clear that her progress came from relentless practice and taeyeon’s unyielding belief in her.

then came the day when everything shifted. 

yeri and y/n were curled up on the couch, watching an old video of taeyeon’s game. the screen showed taeyeon dribbling and making a spectacular pass.

“look at aunt taeyeon!” yeri said, her eyes glued to the tv. “she’s so fast and cool.” y/n, only five at the time, slowly blinked and pointed at the tv with her small hand. “her,” she said, pointing to one of the defenders on screen. “she’s looking the wrong way. that’s why she didn’t see my mom.”

yeri squinted at the screen. “oh, i mean i guess. but didn’t you see the pass?” the older girl was confused. she had watched this game numerous times, and she knew her aunt was good, but it never dawned on her to look at anyone else on the court.

“uh-huh,” y/n nodded quickly, “but that other girl wasn’t even watching. and the one on the other side didn’t move fast enough. they should’ve been closer to my mom.”

kim yeri’s confusion deepened. she knew y/n had seen her fair share of her mother’s games, but y/n’s observations were on another level. yeri watched as her younger cousin picked apart every detail with ease.

“wow,” yeri said, still trying to catch up. “i didn’t notice any of that. i just saw aunt taeyeon being amazing.”

“yeri, are you ready?” taeyeon’s voice cut through the living room as she pulled a cap over her head. her sharp eyes quickly glanced at the tv before chuckling softly. “you’re watching that again?”

the older girl looked up, a mixture of embarrassment and eagerness on her face. “it’s almost done, aunt taeyeon. i was just showing y/n how you play.”

the olypmian’s gaze shifted to her daughter, who was still absorbed in the game. “oh, and what do you think of it, kiddo?” y/n looked up with wide eyes, hesitantly turning back to the tv to answer her mother’s question.

“the girl in blue didn’t look the right way.”

taeyeon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. she glanced at the screen, watching her younger self set up another play for her team. it was one of the earlier games of her career, against japan in a showcase tournament. she remembered it like it was yesterday, as she did with every game.

“really? what else do you see?” 

y/n pointed at the screen, her tiny finger tracing the movements. “that girl didn’t move fast enough, and that other one was too far away. i think they should have been closer to you, mommy.”

sharp eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and pride crossing her face. her daughter definitely had the eyes for the game, especially at such a young age. taeyeon’s mind raced with the possibilities.

“you know what? i think it’d be great if you practiced with yeri from now on.”

—

the gym was buzzing with excitement as the middle school basketball teams prepared for their big game. yeri, now in 7th grade, was a starting player for the a team. her 6th-grade cousin, y/n, had been placed on the same team as a third-string point guard. despite being so low on the roster, it was a rare opportunity for a younger player to compete against 7th and 8th graders.

“yeri?” the mentioned girl looked at her cousin while they quickly finished stretching. “what’s wrong?” the older girl asked, concern etched in her features. “did someone tell you something?” she quickly looked around, her head scanning the court and the crowd for no one in particular. yeri was used to her aunt’s reputation becoming intertwined with hers. she was used to the small comments and the comparisons. however, she knew that her younger cousin was going to have it worse than she did, especially since she was already making her own mark.

y/n pointed to yeri’s shoes, which were once again untied. “your laces are untied.” she said softly as she glanced over at her mother, who was watching in the stands. “my mom was looking at them, too.”

“aw man, again?” 

the game started with high intensity. yeri and her teammates gave it their all, but by the end of the third quarter, they were trailing by 20 points. the scoreboard glared with the opposing team’s lead, and frustration was evident on the faces of yeri and her teammates.

taeyeon, sitting in the stands with a mix of concern and hope, glanced over at her daughter. y/n was seated on the bench, fidgeting with the hem of her yellow jersey. the olympian always hated yellow jerseys, but seeing her daughter in one made her reconsider her opinion.

as the game dragged on, the score gap widened, and taeyeon’s worry grew. her daughter, despite her exceptional talent, was sitting on the bench. she watched as y/n’s small figure shifted restlessly, her determination evident even from a distance.

“come on,” she muttered under her breath as her eyes shifted to the coach. “put her in already.” 

the coach paced along the sidelines, clearly stressed by the way the game was slipping away. with just minutes left in the third quarter and the team down by twenty points, he finally looked toward y/n. he hesitated, glancing between his first-string players and the eager 6th grader sitting on the end of the bench.

taeyeon knew her age wasn’t the only reason why he didn’t want to put her in. he knew exactly who y/n’s mother was—everyone did. taeyeon’s legacy loomed large, and the former olympian could tell he didn’t want to be accused of favoritism.

however, there was also an edge of resentment beneath his hesitance, a belief that y/n was only where she was because of her mother’s name.

he had been the same way with yeri when she first joined the team, but it wasn’t nearly as bad. yeri had to prove herself too, but y/n? she was met with even colder shoulders, sharper critiques, and an unspoken expectation that she had to be flawless just to be seen as average.

y/n knew she could turn things around, but she was also well aware of why she wasn’t being put in.

taeyeon clenched her jaw, watching the coach as he stubbornly kept y/n benched. it was infuriating. the game was slipping away—twenty points down and only one quarter left. the starters looked exhausted, and the second string had already faltered, but he still refused to call on her daughter.

she could see the frustration building in y/n, who was still fidgeting with her jersey, glancing at the court with impatience. yeri was getting frustrated, too. whenever yeri wasn’t with y/n, she got frustrated. taeyeon knew this firsthand since she had been training yeri and y/n had been training together for years. 

yeri was always sharper, more focused, when y/n was on the court with her. without her younger cousin, yeri’s movements were getting sloppy, her frustration leaking into every play. it was a vicious cycle—yeri messed up, got mad at herself, and then messed up again. taeyeon could see it all unfolding like a bad rerun, and their coach was either too blind to notice or too stubborn to care.

yeri, despite her best efforts, kept glancing toward the bench where y/n sat. the gap between them wasn’t just physical—it was mental. y/n was the calming presence that kept yeri’s nerves in check, and right now, she was spiraling without that anchor. the whole team was unraveling, and everyone could see it except the one person who could do something about it.

finally, with a scowl that made it clear he was acting out of desperation rather than belief in y/n’s abilities, the coach yelled, “kim! get in there!”

taeyeon’s eyes narrowed at the way he spoke to her daughter, but y/n didn’t flinch. she simply nodded and jogged onto the court, her small frame brimming with confidence that belied her years. for just one moment, y/n took a quick glance back at her mother. 

the olympian’s lips curved into a small smile, and y/n knew she had her mother’s full support.

once y/n stepped on the court, something shifted. despite her small size compared to the older players, there was a sense of calmness about her. the moment the ball was in her hands, she scanned the court like she was reading a book. it wasn’t about her skill alone—it was about how she understood the game at its core.

yeri’s frustration physically vanished off her features once she saw her younger cousin in action. it was like a switch flipped. the uncertainty that had clouded yeri’s play all game melted away as she watched y/n take command of the court. despite being a year younger and significantly shorter than the eighth graders towering around her, y/n played with a level of poise and intelligence far beyond her age.

y/n didn’t waste time trying to impress anyone with flashy moves. instead, she focused on breaking down the defense, picking apart their weaknesses like it was second nature. she noticed how the tallest girl on the other team was slow on her rotations, how one of the guards kept favoring her right side, and how another player hesitated every time she switched on defense. y/n exploited all of it with simple but effective plays, directing her teammates with quick gestures and sharp glances.

yeri, catching onto y/n’s rhythm, fell right in line. the way they played together felt like clockwork—smooth, precise, and unforced. y/n knew exactly where yeri would be without even looking, and yeri trusted her cousin completely, letting go of the tension that had plagued her earlier in the game. they worked in tandem, reading each other’s movements as naturally as breathing.

the other players started feeding off y/n’s energy, and within just mere moments, they began chipping away at the lead. taeyeon leaned forward, her heart pounding as the gap narrowed. 

every time y/n made a play, it was like watching a young version of herself—but there was something different, something more refined.

the game ended with their school winning, and y/n had managed to help beat the opposing team by 10 extra points. from that day forward, y/n was chosen as the starting point guard for every single game that season.

—

the summer heat hung heavy in the air as yeri and y/n sat side by side on the old court they’d spent so many hours on as kids. the echoes of bouncing balls and squeaking sneakers had faded, leaving only the quiet hum of cicadas and the faint buzz of distant traffic. 

y/n was on the brink of entering ygu as a first-year student while yeri was about to enter her second year. the younger girl leaned back against the cool metal of the bleachers while yeri sat beside her, staring at the worn-down lines of the court with a distant look in her eyes. ygu’s summer training started in just a week, but taeyeon had the two girls working since the day they got out for summer vacation.

in the past, yeri would be over the moon knowing that she’d finally be able to practice in a gym with air conditioning instead of outside in her aunt’s backyard court. but this time, it felt different. she wasn’t looking forward to anything.  

y/n nudged her cousin with her shoulder. “you okay, yeri? you’ve been quiet all afternoon.” yeri sighed softly, her fingers absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on her shorts. “i’ve just been thinking a lot.”

“about what?” 

yeri took a moment to think before slowly answering. “about basketball, i guess.” her voice wavered slightly. “i don’t know if i want to play anymore.” y/n’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t immediately say anything. instead, she waited, letting yeri find the words.

“it’s not that i hate it,” yeri continued, her gaze fixed on the cracked asphalt beneath her shoes. “but i’ve never loved the game the way you do. not like how your mom loves it, or how you light up whenever you talk about it.” she paused, swallowing hard. “i just don’t think i need to play anymore.”

y/n frowned, tilting her head to the side in utter confusion. yeri spoke a lot of nonsense before, but this was different. she could tell her cousin was serious about this. “why do you think that?” the younger girl asked gently.

yeri finally met y/n’s eyes, her expression torn but she managed to force a small smile. “when you started playing, i felt like i had to protect you.”

y/n’s frown deepened, her young face etched with concern. she couldn’t quite grasp why her cousin was talking like this. yeri had always been the confident one, the one who looked out for her, guided her, and made sure she never felt alone. the thought that yeri might be struggling with something so serious left her unsettled. “protect me from what?” the younger player asked softly, her voice barely louder than the crickets in the distance.

her cousin took a shaky breath, struggling to put her thoughts into words. “you were so little when you started, y/n. you had all this talent, but you didn’t see the pressure it put on you. and then everyone started comparing you to your mom—hell, they compared me to her too. but for you, it was so much more intense. i felt like i had to shield you from all that, like if i could just be by your side, people wouldn’t be so harsh.”

y/n’s eyes widened as she realized the weight yeri had been carrying all this time. she knew the whispers and the expectations, but she never knew how much they’d affected yeri. “but you don’t have to protect me, yeri. i’m not afraid of what people think.” she replied, moving to lean closer to her older cousin.

“i know you’re not,” yeri said with a small chuckle, though it lacked her usual energy. “you’ve always been fearless, even when everyone’s watching. but me? i guess i’m tired, y/n. i’ve spent so long worrying about what others think of both of us that i lost sight of whether or not i even want to play.”

the younger girl’s gaze softened, understanding dawning in her eyes. yeri had always been her rock, but now it was time for her to be there for her older cousin. “you don’t have to play for me. you don’t have to protect me either. i’m strong enough now, because you helped me get there.”

the older player chuckled once more, shaking her head lightly before turning to look at her cousin right in the eyes. “you’re the number one player in the country and you haven’t even started a collegiate career yet. you’ve always had that drive, that spark. and i’m proud of you, y/n. i’ve always been. but i guess i’m just not sure if basketball is what i want for myself anymore.”

she knew y/n’s heart was going to break, but she forced herself to stay calm. y/n tried to collect her thoughts quickly, but the reality of what was happening was starting to set in. 

“but you’re my teammate, yeri. you’ve always been there with me, through all of it. i don’t want to play without you.”

yeri gave a small, sad smile. “you don’t need me, though. you never did. you’re more than good enough to make it on your own.”

“but it’s not the same without you,” the younger kim insisted as she rose from her seated position and turned to fully face her cousin. “it’s not just about basketball. you’ve been my best friend, my partner, the one who’s always had my back. every time i picture playing in college, i picture us together. i don’t care how good i am or how far i go if you’re not there with me.”

“y/n,” yeri whispered as bit her lip, looking torn. the older girl didn’t know what to do anymore, or how to feel. “you’re going to be an olympian one day. you’re made for this. i’m not.”

“you think i want to be an olympian without you?” y/n’s voice cracked slightly as she spoke. “what’s the point of reaching all those goals if i’m doing it alone?”

her older cousin stayed silent for a moment, processing the younger’s words. she knew y/n meant every bit of what she was saying, but the truth was basketball wasn’t in her heart the way it was in y/n’s. 

still, one thing was clear—she couldn’t imagine stepping away and not being there to watch her cousin achieve everything she was destined for.

“i want to see you succeed more than anything,” yeri said softly as she pointed a finger up at her cousin. “and i want to be there when you get to where you’re supposed to be because you deserve it. you’ve worked so hard, but i don’t want to keep playing if it’s just out of obligation. it has to mean something more.”

“but it does mean more,” y/n said, her voice growing quieter. “it’s us. we’ve always been a team, yeri. you’ve always pushed me to be better, whether you realize it or not.”

the older girl felt her chest tighten while the weight of her decision hung heavy. she had already told taeyeon at the start of the summer that she might not come back to the court this season, but her aunt told her to take some time to truly think about it. 

however, the ashes of yeri’s desire were still burning. she realized it wasn’t about her wanting to play or not, it was about what it all meant to her. basketball, taeyeon, y/n—they weren’t separate reasons but pieces of one whole. it was about family. 

she wanted to play not just for herself, but with her family.

“alright,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “i’ll keep playing. not because i’m in love with basketball, but because i’m in love with seeing you do what you were born to do. i want to see you get there, and i want to be right by your side when you do.”

y/n’s face broke into a relieved smile as she threw her arms around her cousin. “you won’t regret it, yeri. we’re gonna do this together, just like we always have.” yeri hugged her back tightly, hoping that, in some way, continuing this journey together would help her rediscover the joy she once felt. 

if nothing else, she knew she’d be there for y/n, every step of the way. 

and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.

TAGLIST ⸺ ✭ @silantryoo @rosiehrs @niniwhiskers @cwpiqwon @jisooftme @1luvkarina @scarfac3 @santasbitch @lisas-earlobe @wallfl9wer @aerihiltonn @unforgivenangel @uzumakioden @skydreamed @haerinfangs @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @haerinkisser @giginings @lilsvx @milanlaia @pandafuriosa60 @wifey-badalee @slowlyturninggay291 @dreamingst99 @7daysronnie @thefckghost @drawing-into-the-night @xszn

CLOSED.

[sepublic]

I really admire the writers for how they tend to handle limitations in this show and really make them work in favor of TOH, because I think about how Hexside originally wasn’t supposed to be that prevalent in S1, but then executives mandated it be. And instead of being begrudging about Hexside and dropping it the first moment they had as soon as S2 –with its greater creative freedom– rolled around, the writers actually made it work and continued to see Hexside through all the way to the end, instead of punishing fans who DID end up liking it. And that was quite a few of us, indicating it was done well enough to appeal.

The writers had the school setting play into Luz’s neurodivergency by showing how she learned differently, it played into Eda’s arc by having her get over her own biases and personal issues to let Luz grow, eventually leading to her starting a university. We got to see learning reframed in a positive light for a lot of these kids who are considered weirdoes for wanting that, and the beginnings of rebellion against the coven system. With Luz, this emphasized how she didn’t fit into any binaries and categories, which is a major motif she learns to be proud of. The theme of education and people being allowed to learn magic for its sake goes hand in hand. And Hexside provided the backdrop for a lot of important episodes. It’d end up being relevant to Hunter’s arc later on, and he was introduced properly in S2!

Plus, the shortening; With how that worked, the crew had to rush a lot of stuff, squeeze in a lot of major events within S2B. But they made the crowded feeling work, because it really helped you feel as helpless as the protagonists because they were being overwhelmed with so many revelations and issues. It helps the viewer relate to Eda’s sense of hopelessness, her lack of a plan. It made Edge of the World more tragic, because Luz tries to distract herself from the trauma of Hollow Mind with what seems to be a low-stakes adventure and this is explicitly brought up as a way to keep the kids safe… But it just ends up tying back into Hollow Mind and the Day of Unity anyway, showing that there is no escape. 

It’s like Pandora’s Box, the point of no return, the story event that’s activated the ending. It’s surrounding everyone on all sides, and with the Day of Unity impending, it feels as if there just isn’t enough time, both on a meta and in-universe scale. There’s no space to breathe, and that uncertainty of things ending too fast is recaptured; In a way, it’s as if the end of the show being brought about too soon for viewers is like the end of the world coming for the protagonists.

And again that makes me think of how Dana Terrace explicitly said that she wanted to focus on the good, the benefits, of the altered story and how the writers had to make things work and tie together in response to all that; “Limitation breeds creativity,” she said as her justification. And she said she was proud of the storyline they otherwise wouldn’t have done, and I agree now that I’ve seen it!!! It’s different yet meaningful in its own apples way, just as the original un-shortened plan would’ve been in an oranges way. Idk it’s just really cool, and I can see why that inspired Dana to attempt a ‘Choose your own adventure’ format for a Patreon project, to again have fun with that on-your-toes experience, before she had to focus on her new job.

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2023 Day 1: Wild

ao3 fic link. ao3 series link.

Lena is having regrets. Only small ones, and not enough for her to change her mind, not enough that if she was asked the question again, she’d say no, but enough that she knows next time she’ll at least bring a coat.

Kara is flying her home, and admittedly, it’s kind of nice, being this close to Kara, held tightly in strong arms that Lena’s spent way too much time thinking about. 

Okay, she’s lying, it’s more than nice, and even though the wind swirling around them as Kara flies her across the city is freezing, it’s a good excuse to tuck her face further into Kara’s neck.

The air had been cool and calm as they’d stood on Lena’s balcony, before Kara had offered Lena a lift and Lena had only hesitated for a moment before she’d said yes.

It’s definitely not cool or calm now, as Lena’s hair whips around her head, hopefully not into Kara’s face because Lena’s having a hard enough time controlling her fear of heights, she doesn’t need to add that to the fear of Kara crashing because she can’t see properly.

It’s over both too quickly, and too slowly, and Lena only realises they’ve landed when the rush of wind dies down around them.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Kara asks as her hold on Lena eases.

Lena only realises how tight she’d been holding on herself when Kara’s hold around her back relaxes, but Lena is still tightly pressed into her chest.

Kara laughs as Lena lets go too, the movement jostling Lena. Lena would be more embarrassed, if she wasn’t so focused on the warm body that had just been pressed against her own.

“Maybe next time I’ll walk,” Lena says, getting the exact reaction Lena is looking for when Kara pouts.

“Maybe next time you should tie up your hair,” Kara says, now suppressing a smile as she reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Lena’s ear.

It’s distracting for a moment, but when Lena reaches up her own hand to her hair, her fingers get stuck in the wild mess that her hair now is. She glances in the reflection of her balcony door, and is surprised by how messy it is despite the short flight.

She looks back at Kara. “How does your hair look so good yet my hair looks like a bird has nested on my head?”

Kara laughs. “It’s an alien thing,” she replies, which explains nothing but does intrigue Lena. “This is a cute look for you though, you should wear your hair like this more often.”

“Just for that comment, I’m not going to invite you in for a hot chocolate like I was planning too.”

Kara pouts again, and Lena wishes she was stronger against that look, but she’s not. She’s not strong against any of Kara’s looks. She knows she’d give Kara the world if she asked for it.

“Please, I’m sorry,” Kara says, eyes wide. “It really is cute, I promise.”

If Lena’s cheeks weren’t already red from the wind and cold, she knows she’d be blushing.

Lena pretends to think about it for a second. “Fine,” Lena says. “But only because you did give me a lift home.”

Kara punches the air and it’s unfairly cute.

Lena knows that next time Kara offers her a lift home, she won’t even hesitate to say yes.

[realityjoey]

ANDERSON TAKEOVER (RILEY ANDERSON MC x EVAN BUCKLEY)

Buck and Riley dragged themselves into the 118 station, each holding a kid by the hand and one clinging to their legs. The weight of exhaustion clung to both of them like a second skin. Neither of them had slept properly in days, and it was beginning to show: Buck’s usual swagger had been replaced by shuffling steps, and Riley looked like she might fall asleep standing up.

“Alright, everyone out of the truck,” Buck groaned, gently prying Lily off his leg.

Lily, bright-eyed and full of energy despite the early hour, scampered ahead, tugging Miles along with her. Ollie trailed behind, his hoodie pulled up over his messy hair in a half-hearted attempt to look indifferent, though the excitement of being at the station was written all over his face.

Riley rubbed her temples. “We should’ve called out. I can’t believe we’re bringing the kids to work.”

“Hey, we tried every babysitter we know. Desperate times,” Buck replied, slinging an arm around her shoulder and kissing her temple. “They love it here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Riley shot him a look that said, Don’t tempt fate.

As soon as they entered the station, the rest of the team clocked them immediately—exhaustion radiating from every inch of their bodies. Bobby noticed the dark circles under Buck’s eyes and the sluggish way Riley moved, the normally sharp and vibrant woman clearly running on fumes.

“Rough night?” Hen asked, arching an eyebrow as she took in the sight of the trio of kids, who were already poking around the kitchen area.

“Rough week,” Riley sighed, collapsing against the nearest wall. “I swear, these kids don’t sleep. They just… regenerate.”

“We’re drowning,” Buck admitted, running a hand down his face. “We just need, like, five minutes to breathe.”

Bobby gave them a fatherly look, one that was both stern and compassionate. “Sit. On the couch. Now.”

“Bobby—” Riley started to protest, but he shook his head.

“No arguments,” Bobby insisted, already moving toward the kids to intercept Lily, who was attempting to climb the pole in the corner of the station.

“Team, we’re on babysitting duty,” Bobby announced to the others. “Buck, Riley—take a seat. We’ve got this.”

Buck opened his mouth to argue, but Hen gave him a warning glance. “Unless you want us to tie you to the couch, sit.”

Too tired to fight, Buck took Riley’s hand and led her to the couch in the common area. As soon as they sat down, Riley leaned into him, and Buck instinctively wrapped his arms around her. They both exhaled deeply, their bodies sagging against each other.

Within minutes, they were out like lights—cuddled up, legs tangled, heads pressed close. Buck’s steady breathing matched Riley’s as they finally gave in to the sleep they’d been deprived of for far too long.

Bobby quietly grabbed a blanket and draped it over the pair, exchanging a knowing look with Hen. “Let them sleep,” he whispered.

Meanwhile, chaos was brewing across the station. Lily had discovered the collection of helmets and decided everyone—including herself—needed to try one on.

“Look, Uncle Chim!” she giggled, a helmet far too big for her wobbling on her head as she toddled toward Chimney.

Chimney crouched down to her level, adjusting the helmet so it didn’t swallow her whole. “Perfect fit, kiddo. You could join the squad.”

Ollie, trying hard to maintain his cool facade, found himself getting drawn into Eddie’s “training lesson” on how to operate the fire truck. Eddie showed him how to flick some switches, which Ollie pretended to be disinterested in—but the grin sneaking across his face gave him away.

“Think I could drive it?” Ollie asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“Sure,” Eddie teased. “Right after you turn eighteen and pass your driving test.”

Nearby, Miles was engaged in a full-on interrogation with Hen about every aspect of firefighting. “But what if you’re in a building and it’s really on fire? Do you ever get scared?”

Hen smiled, ruffling his hair. “Of course we do, kid. But that’s why we have each other. We’re a team.”

Miles mulled that over, nodding solemnly. “Like Buck and Riley.”

“Exactly like Buck and Riley,” Hen agreed.

The kids kept themselves entertained, with Lily assigning herself as “chief” of the station and giving out pretend orders. “Everyone! To the fire truck! There’s a dragon to fight!”

Chimney, never one to pass up a bit of fun, dramatically grabbed his radio. “Attention, team! This is Chief Lily. We’ve got a dragon situation!”

Hen, Eddie, and even Bobby joined in the game, following Lily to the fire truck while Miles scrambled onto the driver’s seat, shouting instructions to his imaginary crew. Ollie leaned against the wall, pretending to be too cool for the game—but he didn’t protest when Eddie roped him in to be the “lookout.”

“Alright, Ollie, if you see any dragons, yell,” Eddie said, nudging him playfully.

Ollie smirked. “What if it’s just Buck snoring?”

“Then we’re definitely in trouble,” Chimney quipped, making the others laugh.

Back in the common room, Buck and Riley remained fast asleep, tangled in each other and completely oblivious to the controlled chaos happening just a few feet away. Riley had tucked her face into Buck’s neck, her breath warm against his skin. Buck, in turn, had one arm wrapped protectively around her waist, the other tucked under his head.

“They look like they haven’t slept in a year,” Hen whispered to Bobby as they checked in on the sleeping couple.

“They probably haven’t,” Bobby murmured with a small smile. “Let’s give them a couple more hours.”

Eventually, the kids wound down—mostly thanks to the impromptu dragon hunt leaving them tuckered out. Lily curled up in one of the chairs, sucking her thumb, while Miles rested his head on Hen’s lap, blinking sleepily. Ollie leaned against Eddie, pretending not to be tired, but his eyes kept drifting shut.

Bobby gave the team a nod, and everyone moved around quietly, letting the peaceful moment settle over them.

As the shift wore on, Buck and Riley remained blissfully asleep on the couch, lost in each other and finally catching up on some much-needed rest. The kids were happy, the station was calm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything was… okay.

And when Buck and Riley finally woke up—groggy but more rested than they had been in days—they found themselves greeted by the sight of their kids dozing around the station, with the rest of the 118 keeping careful watch.

Riley smiled, leaning into Buck’s side. “Think we found ourselves some babysitters.”

Buck chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head. “Yeah… I think we did.”

[resus-pieces]

Are You Sure

Original here by get-the-paddles81

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

“I've been dreaming about this.”

“Me too.”

Ellen smiled and kissed me. She flipped her long raven black hair out of her face, batted an eyebrow, then reached over and flicked the power on the EKG monitor.

I began to strip out of my street clothes. She grabbed my arms and began to assist. First unbuttoning my shirt, then pulling my t-shirt over my head. Before I could reach for my pants, she pushed me towards the bed next to the monitor. I sat.

She pulled out a packet of EKG tabs, tore them open, and began applying them to my chest one by one. The cool gel at the center of each sent a rush of adrenaline through my system and sped up my heart beat. She connected them to the monitor next to her bed.

71 beats per minute.

Ellen smiled and rubbed at the crotch of my pants.

“Already getting excited, are we?”

I didn't need to answer. She could feel.

“Lay down.”

I obeyed.

“I want to tie you down.”

“Okay.”

She reached into the same drawer that had housed her EKG tabs, and produced a set of soft, black rope handcuffs. First she restrained my right wrist to the head board of the bed, then my left.

Running her hand down my body, she unzipped my pants and pulled them down, spending an agonizingly long time slowly rubbing over my hardening cock.

Down to my undershorts, she climbed atop me and kissed me again.

“I'll be back. Don't go anywhere.”

I chuckled.

As she disappeared behind the closed door to her bathroom, I focused on the EKG, reading every one of my heart beats. I'd never fallen into the category of a cardiophile – I was chasing the resus - but in the moment, I found it entrancing.

Minutes passed, and my heart beat slowed. I felt drowsy.

Why was I getting so tired?

65 beats per minute.

60.

55.

50.

“Almost ready. Don't arrest until I get back,” Ellen called from the bathroom.

Arrest? This is not what we had discussed. She was supposed to stop my heart with the paddles.

I tried to pull at the restraints, but I was too weak.

The door opened.

Knee-high patent leather stiletto boots. Fishnet stockings with garters connected to black crotchless panties. A pastel blue corset. Her raven hair pulled back tight. Thick black eyeliner – winged - with smokey eyelids and long, false lashes. Heavy, dark blush. Jet black lips. A tiny diamond stud on her right nostril and a diamond hoop in her septum. My domantrix doctor.

“How do I look?”

I struggled to get words out.

“Perfect. Am I dying?”

“Yes, but I'm going to bring you back.”

She came to my bedside. God, she was perfect.

“I put something in your drink at dinner. Slow acting. We've still got some time.”

She pulled down my undershorts. My heart was slowing, but my cock was still rock hard.

“Better make sure these are ready to go.”

Ellen produced several syringes from her special drawer. She laid it out next to the defibrillator.

Then she grabbed the paddles.

“I don't know if I want your heart to stop first, or if I want to stop it.”

I tried to speak. I couldn't.

40 beats per minute.

“Lady's choice. First thing's first though.”

She laid her jet black lips to my unresponsive ones, kissing and tugging at them with her teeth. Grinding on my cock.

She eased her hips over me and slid down my shaft.

As she sat on my cock, she leaned over and grabbed the conductive gel. Slathering it on, she then rubbed the pads together and slid them onto my chest.

35 beats per minute.

She started bouncing on my cock.

Harder.

Faster.

30 beats per minute.

She moaned loud.

If my heart had been working properly, I know I would've enjoyed the orgasm more.

She kept working my cock as it dry heaved deep inside her.

“My turn.”

She slid off, and in the smoothest motion I've ever seen, set the defibrillator to charge to 200 joules, placed the paddles on my chest, and shocked me.

For 15 years, I'd wondered if being shocked would feel as good as it looked.

It did.

The electricity tore through me. The sensation was incredible - I felt it in every part of my body. I could hardly contain the pleasure. Like the best orgasm I'd ever had, just moments ago, but multiplied by 50.

My eyes relaxed. They stared straight up. I could no longer move them.

The EKG rang out – asystole.

Ellen put the paddles back in the cradle.

“You're mine now.”

I couldn't look, but I could hear – she went back to her drawer.

She re-entered my vision with a straight blade and an ET tube.

Goddamnit, she was amazing – she was going to intubate me.

She stroked my cheek lovingly.

I felt the blade go in my mouth and the tube go down inside me. She secured it with a Thomas holder.

Expecting her to start bagging me, she leaned in and wrapped her black lips around the tube and blew in.

I wanted to orgasm again.

She blew in one more time, then nuzzled close to me and nibbled at my ears a bit.

“I have to put a back board under you. CPR is worthless on a soft mattress.”

Out of my vision she went.

She rolled me towards the EKG, so I could see myself flatlining.

The backboard was cold.

“Alright, are you ready?”

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...

Ellen crushed my heart between my sternum and my spine. I enjoyed it less than the shocks, but I loved watching her tower over me. Her eyes locked to mine. My life completely in her hands.

“Here comes the Epi. This stuff is expensive. Please don't make me use two.”

She slammed the needle into my heart. It stung.

As she pressed the plunger on the syringe, I felt warmth spreading though my torso.

More compressions. Her perfect breasts bounced beneath the cradle of her corset.

She wrapped her lips around my ET tube and blew in two more times.

“Come on. Get that heart shaking for me.”

The warmth of the epi continued to spread, but the flatline tone continued.

More compressions. She seemed more aggressive now.

Still flatline.

“Okay, one more epi. But you have to revive me the next two weekends.”

I think I can manage that.

My chest went from warm to hot.

More compressions. More deep breaths from her black lips.

The tone on the EKG changed.

“Okay my dear, half the battle won. Charging paddles...”

She picked up the pads.

“No sense in dilly-dallying with a low setting. Let's go right to 360 this time, shall we?”

Ellen applied more gel to the still-shiny capacitors.

“Shocking.”

BAM! My body took off like a rocket. The hot feeling of the epi gave way to white flame engulfing my body.

The EKG made a different sound. A few beeps..

I felt something in my groin.

“Honey... you just ejaculated again! How...”

Just as quickly as the beeps started, an alarm returned.

“Ugh. Not going to be easy at all, are you? 360 again... shocking!”

BAM!

The alarm went from angry to furious.

“No! No! Don't you do that!”

I knew the sound of a flatline tone.

Ellen climbed back aboard my body and blew two more breaths into my tube, then ran her hands down my cheeks, my throat, before settling on my chest.

Re-interlocking her fingers, she resumed her assault.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5...

For the first time, the edges of my vision went blurry.

Was I dying? Like, not just clinically dying, but dying-dying?

Things got a little darker. Ellen's voice had an echo about it. But the EKG sounded different. V-fib?

“Going again at 360... come back to me!”

BAM!

“Again!”

BAM!

“Goddamn you, again!”

BAM!

Total blackness.

And then my eyes opened.

It was no longer night. Sun shined through the blinds.

A gentle beep, beep, beep from the bedside EKG.

The ET tube was still in, but nothing was connected to it. I was breathing on my own.

I turned my head to the EKG. 67 beats per minute.

I turned my head the other way.

Ellen looked at me lovingly. The dominatrix doctor was gone. Her face was freshly scrubbed. No more smokey eyes or black lips. She had had changed to a flannel pajama top. The clip on septum ring was gone, but she'd kept the diamond nose stud.

She stroked my cheek again. Then she rubbed the jewel glued to her nose.

“I like the nose stud. Should I get a real one?”

I squinted and pointed at the ET tube.

She giggled.

“I had to shock you five times at 360 to get you back.”

I gestured at the ET tube.

She giggled again.

“You want it out? It looks good on you.”

She came out from under the sheets, and climbed atop me again. She leaned in and wrapped her lips around the tube. The first time she blew into it, I was out of sync with her. But the second, third, and fourth were perfect.

She smiled.

“Cough.”

I coughed, and she pulled hard on the tube.

My coughing fit seemed to last forever.

“How did it feel?”

I smiled.

“Incredible.”

“How much do you remember?”

“Everything.”

She rolled back on top of me and kissed me like the first time she kissed me.

“Next time, it's my turn.”

I pushed her off.

“The next two times. And I have some ideas.”

[hinamie]

hi hina! if you were yuuji, megumi, and nobara's personal stylist (you already kind of are 🙂‍↕️) what's an outfit you would pick that represents their casual style and one look that represents fancy attire? and what's an absolute No for each of them?

SORRY FOR GETTING TO THIS LATE i have . fashion opinions and need 2 articulate them Properly. gomen ik this isn't /exactly/ what u asked this is moreso just. my style headcanons fr each of them but i think it more or less gets the point across gFGHDSHFGJ.

will get long btw :')

yuuji:  casual: 

i loveloveLOVE him in jean jackets . since a hoodie is a staple for him that + a jean jacket i think is The Go-To fit for him hands down i think he pulls it off so well. u can even ditch the hoodie to opt for a baggy graphic T shirt but the jean jacket carries the fit.  it’s so casual n classic which helps it be ~versitile~ and it's just boyish enough to rly suit yuuji’s character. I have him in distressed jeans (grey or dark wash blue, as long as it’s a different shade of denim) whenever i can bc i think it looks good but athletic pants (think like adidas jogger-shaped) work also . add red sneakers of choice accessorize that boy with a gym bag or backpack Bam yuuji fit. 

formal: 

i feel very strongly about yuuji in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up. no suit jacket fr him but definitely a tie and a waistcoat + straight leg trousers. i want to keep a pop of red on him so the safe option wld b to make his tie red but i think maybe he could pull off a maroon dress shirt + black everything else combo. important thing is He Wears Red :)

no’s:

honestly I can picture yuuji in most anything but i don’t think he wears long structured jackets, even fr fancy outfits. he’s too stocky of a build and i think a long jacket makes him look shapeless in a bad way i think mid-thigh is as long as i’d be willing 2 go for his outerwear, though im sure with the right fit i could b convinced otherwise

megumi:  casual: 

tl;dr: loose sweater over turtleneck/over collared shirt i feel SO strongly about megumi in loose straight silhouettes. HEAVY on the grey/black neutrals with the occasional cool jewel tone (green or teal u know how it is) though i do also like him in a chocolate brown! it is important 2 me also that whatever pants he wears r not too baggy since his top will have a lot of that Chunkiness to it and u need some shape n slimness 2 the leg 2 balance it out. this overall silhouette on megu >>>>>>>

formal:

unlike yuuji i Do think megumi could pull off a suit jacket or maybe even a blazer but whatever it is u best bet this boy is in All Black . I also like him in a turtleneck instead of a dress shirt but if we button him up Completely i think it achieves more or less the same look 

no’s: 

ok i have a couple but my biggest one is Fushiguro Megumi Does Not Wear Shorts end of story no further elaboration. also, this is slightly more forgiveable but like w yuuji i would avoid him in long jackets Also, altho fr the opposite reason . it’s not tht he’s too stocky for it rather i think he’s too lanky n a long coat runs the risk of drowning him — again situational tho !!!!! he would probably look good in a black wool coat so i will entertain the possibility . 

also listen. this is a personal headcanon and ik it likely puts me in the minority and i may even get flack fr this . but i do not think fushiguro megumi would have piercings. i know ive drawn him with earrings before but listen those were for Me . those were for the fit. he was an acting mannequin. but just him??? his personal feelings?? i just have a hard time thinking that boy is th type 2 put metal in his face sue me :’/ 

nobara:  casual: 

this is so hard because a. women’s fashion has SO many more options b. nobara is 100% the type to have a different style every week and c. she looks good in all of it. I think though i like her best in long skirts and layers so something along these lines is a Hard yes from me, though possibly with a brighter colour palette

formal:

i had Other ideas but god just spoke to me through pinterest by showing me this dress and this is all i want to see nobara in actually. 

(((real talk tho in terms of fancy dresses I like her in black/gold/red/pink for colours, either baby doll or bell skirts, strapless sweetheart necklines,, etc etc etc)))

no’s: 

similar to yuuji, I don’t have many things that i picture as off-limits for nobara fashion-wise bc she seems the type to experiment :’) I think any faux-pas i can name r just my own fashion icks so i’ll just go with those: no low rise and no full skin-tight fits (ik i said she seems down for anything but i think she draws the line @ athleisure). also maybe a pocket pick but i don't think she would wear orange or hot pink on account of her hair

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 7: THE BATHTUB

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: I can't believe we only have two more episodes left! Thank you all for your patience! Let me know what y'all think. I read everything and respond!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3252

Masterlist

PART I || PART II ||

HAWKINS POLICE STATION – CHERRY STREET

As soon as I open the front door, a gust of cold wind blows and I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself to keep warm. The cool air feels nice on my skin despite the cold. I wish I wore a jacket instead of a plaid shirt. I look around trying to figure out where I should go. I can’t walk too far away from the station in case Chief Hopper comes back. I decide to go left up Cherry Street. The series of unfortunate events leading up to this moment all play out in my head and I rub my temples trying to ease the dull pulsating ache. 

Today, Jonathan, Nancy and I started to forge a plan to kill the monster and find Will and Barb. How will we find them in that place? How will we find the tree? It closed after Jonathan pulled me out of it. I can’t imagine how alone and scared Barb must be inside that place by herself. It’s been days since I last saw her and with the police thinking she left town; they won’t try finding her. The Hollands. I blink back tears, flaring my nostrils to keep them from falling. I hope they don’t think badly of Nancy and I for lying. I feel like we owe it to them to find Barb and bring her back. I wipe my tears with the back of my hand, sniffing softly.

There are still so many loose ends to tie up like where can we lure the monster if not in the forest where it lives? How do we have the upper hand in killing the monster? Hawkins is a small town, there is nowhere to put this thing without drawing attention to ourselves especially now that we are on the radar of cops. I let out a noise of frustration, stomping on the ground. How are we going to execute the plan now? Nancy and I can’t leave Jonathan at the station. What if they put him in jail? 

If it weren’t for Tommy, Carol, Nicole and Steve, we would be able to properly plan.

This all happened because Jonathan was in Nancy’s room? There’s no doubt in my mind that they weren’t doing anything compromising. How could they after what happened? Nancy almost died last night. If it weren’t for Jonathan who knows what could have happened to her—to me. Also, Nancy liked Steve too much to do anything that could jeopardize her relationship with him. The voice in the back of my head questions: But what about Jonathan? 

As if you didn’t know from the start, Sinclair! It would explain why you’re always protecting the pervert.

I frown pushing strands of hair away from my face. It’s clear Steve and Jonathan do not like each other. I thought it was because of stupid boy ego and bravado. Both boys can be arrogant. It explains why they clash. But I feel unsettled by what Steve said in the alley. As if you didn’t know from the start. He wouldn’t have said that if he didn’t believe it to be true, would he? 

Only love makes you that crazy, sweetheart. And that damn stupid. 

I don’t agree with what Flo said to Nancy and I about Jonathan’s reasons for fighting back in the alley, but with all that has happened this week, all that was said, especially in the forest about believing Nancy was “trying to be someone else” yet doing what every other suburban girl does, rebel until the phase passes and end up marrying “some boring one-time jock who now works sales, and live out a perfectly boring life at the end of a cul-de-sac”. I didn’t realize it back then, but now that I think about it, Jonathan was talking about Steve. I stop walking and look around. It’s like everything clicked and that unsettling feeling became stronger, heavier. 

Does Jonathan like Nancy? 

My brain feels like a tangled web of confusion. How did I not notice it before? The signs are all there. It was all subtle and platonic in the moment, but the more I think about it, the more obvious it seems. I laugh in disbelief shaking my head. 

This is such a mess.  

I shiver against the strong gust of wind whooshing in my ear and tuck my chin into my chest, continuing to walk. Neither Jonathan or Steve hid their dislike for each other. Part of me regrets standing up for Steve yesterday, especially after today. But the argument in the forest was about Jonathan taking those photos. It always comes down to that stupid lapse in judgement. Though I don’t agree with Steve breaking Jonathan’s camera, I understand why he did it. To protect Nancy’s honour and to protect himself. As I told Jonathan, Steve’s privacy was violated too. All of ours were. What Jonathan did was gross and Steve did what he thought was best. Steve had a right to be upset. 

He just takes it too far.

Breaking Jonathan’s camera, the marquee, the awful things he said to both Nancy and Jonathan. I know Steve is hurt. I saw it in his eyes. From his perspective the optics aren’t great. He did what he thought was right in the moment to protect Nancy, checked up on her to see if she was okay, only to find Nancy in her room with Jonathan, the boy he was trying to protect her from. I get it, but the rigmarole after. Unacceptable. 

Steve wanted that fight with Jonathan back in the alley and Jonathan was ready to give him that fight. A chill runs down my spine. The sound of skin hitting skin replays in my head. The power behind every punch still scares me. For as long as I’ve known Jonathan, he’s been a quiet, somewhat brooding person who often kept to himself. He doesn’t bother nor really talk to anyone. It was always him and his camera. It’s why the way he was fighting Steve concerned me. 

Even though our little brothers are best friends, this week has been the most I have ever spoken to Jonathan. We’ve exchanged a few words when I helped him with his photography project, but other than that, we rarely crossed paths. I am aware of his home life based on what Lucas would say during dinner about Will not being able to come over to hang out with the rest of the boys because he’s spending time with his dad. Based on his tone alone, it’s clear Will is uncomfortable around him. At the funeral, I remember observing the way he was acting. There was something sly about Mr. Byers because I haven’t seen or heard about him until Will’s funeral. It’s clear he isn’t present in both boys lives because Jonathan doesn’t know how to tie a tie. Even when Steve was saying horrible things about his dad, Jonathan didn’t flinch. 

“Excuse me, sorry,” I say, pushing past a couple standing in the middle of the street. 

He didn’t do anything until Steve started saying terrible things about Miss Byers and Will. I looked in his eyes, that flash of rage, but it was too late. Jonathan’s punches were direct and intentional…familiar almost. Where did he learn to fight? Did his dad teach him? Or was Jonathan used to having to protect himself all the time? Even though our unlikely alliance came out of something tragic, I like being around him. I care about him. I puff out my cheeks, running my fingers through my hair. There was so much I needed to talk to Jonathan about. 

HAWKINS CINEMA

My feet come to a stop in front of the building that started it all. I stare up at the large marquee feeling many different emotions all at once. Shock. Disgust. Anger. Disappointment. It’s been almost 45 minutes since I first saw the horrible display of affection and though there wasn’t a crowd circling Hawkins Cinema to see the spectacle, the bright red letters still commanded attention. 

NANCY THE SLUT WHEELER

How did we get here? The question has been burning a hole in my brain all morning. I scowl at Tommy’s messy handwriting. That boy is the absolute worse. The unsettling image of Tommy watching me from afar makes me sick to my stomach. It’s one thing to pick on me, but to follow me around and loathe me for talking to someone who has been nothing but kind to me. I clench my hands into fists, grinding my teeth against each other. The perception people have of Eddie is starting to annoy me and I can’t help but feel protective of him. He’s not like anyone in town and I can relate to that. Being different. Eddie makes it look easy and I love that about him. I envy that about him as well. 

From the corner of my eye, I see a tall person and glance in their direction. Realizing who it is, I scoff shaking my head. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Sinclair?” 

I ignore Steve walking fast back down Cherry Street.

“Hey, wait!” Steve shouts. I keep my head down avoiding the confused stares of bystanders.

“Sinclair!”

I press my lips together feeling the bubbling anger in my stomach rise to my chest. Sinclair? Who does he think he is, calling me Sinclair. As if I’m a teammate on the basketball team. He knows my name. I look around ready to cross the street when I feel Steve run up beside me.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” He pants, holding his side. 

“No.” I say looking anywhere to avoid looking at him. When the coast is clear I jog across the street. 

“Please,” Steve huffs jogging beside me. “Just hear me out.” 

“No.” 

“Look, I just want to apologize.” 

I roll my eyes, snorting in disbelief. “Again? Save it. I don’t need an apology because I know you’re going to do something for it to not mean anything.”

“Oh, c’mon, Sinclair—”

I whip around so fast Steve flinches as my hair hits him across his chest. “Don’t call me that!” I snap, glaring angrily at him. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t say anything! Leave me alone!” 

Steve’s brows shoot up in surprise. As suspected looking at Jonathan’s swollen knuckles, the entire left side of his face is battered and bruised. From the split on his left brow, the bridge of his nose and right side of his lip in addition to all the dry blood smeared and crusting around his face, Jonathan got him good. I would’ve been more horrified and compassionate if it weren’t for what he did to get beaten and how rude and impolite he is to me right now. 

I walk pass him continuing down Cherry Street. The nerve of him. I am not one of his loyal followers. I am not his friend, especially after what he did and said back in the alley. I perk up feeling another wave of anger build in me. Jonathan, Nancy and I had to be escorted to the police station while, Tommy, Carol, Nicole and Steve got off scot-free when they were the ones causing the problems in the first place. No one has been accounted for that disgusting sign, yet Jonathan is literally handcuffed for defending himself.

I am sick and tired of people being terrible and getting a slap on the wrist because of their popularity. I turn around, stomping back to Steve who hadn’t moved from his spot, staring wide eyed and confused at the building of Hawkins Post. 

“I don’t know what that was or who you think you are,” I continue. “But if the person I saw back there is the real you. I will make sure Nancy stays far, far away. That I promise you, Harrington.” I threaten. Steve opens his mouth to respond but I cut him off quick. “Do you know how traumatic this is for her?” 

“Traumatic?” Steve shouts, staring at me in disbelief. “She cheated on me!” 

“No, she didn’t!” I shout back, defending my best friend. Nancy wouldn’t do that. She likes him too much. “You only caught a glimpse of something and ran with it.” 

“You didn’t see what I saw, Sin—” Steve’s words die in his throat. I squint, daring him to call me by my last name again. Steve shifts to lean on one leg, putting one hand on his hip and takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge between his nose with his other. He winces slightly, dropping his hand to his other hip and glares down at me. “They were sitting on her bed and he had—he had his arm around her.” 

I blink waiting for more information. Steve stares back at me waiting for my response. I frown. “That’s it?” 

“Yes!” He throws his hands up in annoyance. 

“That’s why you’re upset?”

Steve groans out of frustration, combing his fingers through his hair. “I know what I saw and I know what Nancy did!” 

“Did you ever stop and think maybe Nancy was confiding in Jonathan because they both lost someone important to them? Is that too hard to believe?” Steve scoffs shaking his head. “If you really believed she cheated on you, instead of running to Tommy, Carol, and Nicole, knowing how they are, why didn’t you just call Nancy and talk to her!” 

“I saw what I saw.” Steve says. His voice is quiet and even, but the anger and hurt in his eyes remain. “There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“So, because there’s ‘nothing to talk about’,” I use air quotes, mocking him. “You decided to slut-shame Nancy in front of the entire town.” I yell, extending an arm out, pointing with disdain at the source of irritation. “You’re sick!” I hiss, pointing at him before turning away.

“That was all Tommy, not me!” Steve yells. “I didn’t write that about Nancy!” 

I turn around rushing toward him. “But you didn’t stop Tommy from doing it and that’s always been my issue with you!” I cry, lifting my hands up in the air. “You never stop it. You never do anything. You stand there and let it happen!” Steve jerks his head back, drawing his brows together. I drop my hands down to my sides. “Whether you like it or not, everything falls back on you because you’re King Steve. You have this—this persona to uphold and you cannot choose when it does and does not apply to you because it always does!” 

“I didn’t ask to be King Steve.” Steve says between clenched teeth.  

“You look fine when you’re reaping the benefits when it serves you.” I point out. “But when something like this happens, when your back is against the wall, now it’s I didn’t ask to be King Steve? Give me a break!” Steve avoids eye contact, clenching his teeth until I see the tick in his jaw. “It’s so frustrating to see you act the way you do when you're around Tommy and Carol or any one of your stupid jock friends because I know that’s not you and deep down,” I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “I know you know it too. I know you know better. You’re not like them, Steve.” 

Steve’s eyes lock with mines. The lines between his brows smoothen and I see that look again, the one I saw briefly in the alley. I stare up at him, swiping my tongue along my bottom lip and shake my head, looking up at the sky.

“Believe it or not, I think your better than them. You can be such a jerk—an asshole even, but you are better than them.” I speak softly, looking back at him. “Every time I start to think ‘maybe Steve Harrington isn’t that bad. Maybe he’s actually a good person’. You do something to make me take back my words and I feel foolish enough to believe you can be.” 

Steve draws his brows in sadly. His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “I am a good person.” He murmurs. 

“Are you?” I challenge, pointing at the marquee again. “Is that who you are? Is that who you want to be?” 

“I—” Steve trails off unsure of what to say. 

I drop my hand, crossing my arms above my chest to keep warm. I’m not wearing a proper jacket or any jacket; just a plaid shirt. 

“I know you’re embarrassed by the pictures.” I begin, swiping strands of hair out of my face as a gust of wind blows in our direction. “You were in them and your privacy was invaded just as much as Nancy’s. I promise you; I do not condone what Jonathan did and he knows that. It was disgusting and stupid. I��ve had that conversation with him. However, that is no excuse to say all those things about him and his family. I know you’re hurt because of Nancy, but, Jesus, Steve.” I look down at my shoes, kicking a pebble onto the road. 

“I didn’t mean it.” 

“You wanted that fight with Jonathan, admit it.” His silence is enough to confirm my sentiment. I shake my head. 

“You do realize he buried his brother yesterday, don’t you? His brother. My little brother’s best friend was buried yesterday and we still—” I stop, trying to catch my breath. I put my hand on my chest blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. “We still can’t find Barb.” 

“Have you heard anything from the cops?” Steve asks. I don’t respond right away looking at the blood stains on his shirt. Flashes of the monster in the woods, eating that deer appear in my mind and I close my eyes trying to rid it from my memory.

“Diana.” My eyebrows twitch and I open my eyes. Steve is looking at me with such intensity my breathing becomes shallow. This is the first time Steve has said my name. The first time acknowledging me as a person, not just Nancy’s best friend. The way he says my name…the yearning in his voice. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, Steve licks his bottom up shifting uncomfortably back and forth. “Please.” He begs. “I know something’s wrong. It’s—It’s why I went over to Nancy’s in the first place.” He sighs in defeat. “I just want to help.”

Part of me believes him. The part of me who believes Steve is a good person. I want to tell him what happened to Nancy and I last night in the forest, about Jonathan saving us from near-death. I want to tell him about the police finding Barbs car at a bus station. I want to tell him everything…but I look at the marquee again. I can’t get too close to Steve. Suddenly becoming hyper aware of how close Steve and I were to each other. I blink, taking a step back creating space between us. Steve moves to take a step toward me, but decides against it. I fix my posture, shaking my head. 

“You can’t.” I say coldly, walking backwards and away from him. “You seriously need to figure out how to express your emotions because I don’t know how you come back from this. I really don’t. If I were Nancy, I would never want to see or speak to you again.” 

NEXT -> PART II

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

[jamethinks]

In the corner of a local diner sat a rather unlikely pair. Yuri Briar and Fiona Frost. Only a few weeks ago they had no idea of one another's existence but now they were inseparable. They had become a regular at this diner. It was not to far from his apartment and on the path to both of their jobs.

"Ok." Yuri leaned over grinning. "While we wait, why don't we play 20 questions?"

"No. I don't know the questions." Most men would be discouraged by Fiona cold tone but Yuri seemingly couldn't hear it. It was like he had a super power that enabled him to hear the tone buried under a thick layer of disinterest.

"There aren't any question. It just means you get to ask me any 20 questions and I can ask you 20."

"What if I don't want to answer the question?"

"Then you don't."

"What if I just refuse all of questions?" Yuri pouted. Fiona rolled her eyes and sighed. He took that as a sign to go ahead.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"None. My question now." Yuri didn't protest. He just wanted an excuse to talk to her anyways. "Imagine you are the conductor on a train and there are 3 possible paths:"

"The first is your friend Chloe. Her lackadaisical attitude has resulted in getting stuck on the tracks as she failed to tie her laces properly despite may warnings from her boss." She met Chloe once and her shoes were untied so now that was what all she was to Fiona. Chloe brushed it off and now Fiona seems to resent her for it.

"The second has a group of people, you can recognize them but you have no particular interest in any of them. Classmates, coworkers and neighbors. They have been tied to the tracks by a terrorist from the West." A collection of people Fiona also did not like.

"The third will cause the train to derail and crash in a building. However, you do not know what building it is and there is a possibility there are people in there. People who's morality cannot be inferred. Could be a meeting of neo-nazis or disabled orphans waiting to be adopted by Batman. And there is still a chance the building is empty and therefore there is no death directly related to its destruction." He wondered how long it took her to even think of this scenario.

"Hmm. I let it hit the coworkers." he responded.

"Same." she was satisfied with that response. It was obviously her choice. Chloe was annoying (to her) but hitting her with a train was too intense of a punishment. The threat would be sufficient in sending a messge. The final statement was the clear indicator the last option was also not a good pick. Even if there aren't people in the building, ramming a train into any structure can cause long term damage to a community. Fiona absolutely despised her coworkers and would hit them with a train in an situation.

In order to please Fiona you must apply her logic.

"Cool. Do you prefer peanut butter and toast or jelly and toast?"

"Neither. Butter and sugar. Now, there is a possibility either Loid or Yor are on the tracks or in the building. You do not know which one it is nor do you know what path they're on. Which path do you chose?"

Yuri thought for a moment. "Yor would never be on the tracks. She's very cautious around that stuff. Loi-loi on the other hand, is very danger prone. He is also technically one of your coworkers. So I will stick with my original answer."

"What if Yor tries to save him?"

"Hey, it's my turn to ask questions not you."

"Fine." she huffed.

"Nice." he leaned back and smirked. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Stalin. What if Anya was on the middle track with all her snotty rich classmates?" How long did it take to make some blts?

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 9 - A Hundred Months Have Passed

Summary: Kate and Arthur share a tender moment in the quiet of the night.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Story Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

After a few days had passed, the ebb and flow of camp life settled back into its usual rhythm. The air buzzed with the familiar hum of activity—girls diligently tending to chores, men venturing out in search of employment. Micah, having wisely refrained from his lewd remarks, seemed to steer clear of Kate since the encounter with her blade at his throat.

Kate, ever the reliable hand, lent herself where needed: scrubbing alongside Mary-Beth and Tilly, deftly stitching with Abigail, and even lending a hand in Pearson's kitchen to ease Sadie's burdens. The oppressive heat of Lemoyne clung to everyone like a stifling cloak, making afternoons feel interminable. Yet, the proximity of the lake provided a much-needed reprieve, promising a cool respite at the day's end.

Arthur slipped back into the role of the camp's indispensable jack-of-all-trades. Strauss had once again tasked him with money lending duties, a responsibility Kate chose to abstain from this time. Arthur, sensing her unspoken concerns, pledged a new approach—doing things properly this time. His efforts brought a smile to Kate's lips; she recognized his earnest attempts to turn a new leaf, even amidst his continued forays into stagecoach heists and homestead robberies.

This morning, Dutch and Hosea, accompanied by John and Arthur, ventured into Rhodes at the deputy's behest, hopeful for legitimate work. Kate felt a surge of pride knowing they were earnestly striving for honest wages, unaware of Dutch's clandestine designs. Rumors of a longstanding feud between the affluent Gray and Braithwaite families had piqued Dutch's interest, his mind already scheming.

While the boys were occupied, Kate found herself free from chores, engaging in a serene game of dominos with Tilly and Javier. The late afternoon light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the camp.

“I don’t like being this far south,” Tilly commented, her voice tinged with fear. “I feel like we ain’t safe here. I ain’t safe here.”

“You’ll be alright, Tilly. We’re all looking out for you,” Kate reassured her.

Tilly sighed and shook her head solemnly. “This lot don’t like folk like me, Kate. My mother was a slave until she was 15 years old.”

“We’ll keep you safe, I promise,” Kate urged.

Javier, who had been quietly playing dominoes with them, placed his domino and joined the conversation. “I don’t think these folks like anybody who isn’t white, if I’m being honest,” he said with a dry laugh. “I’ve been called ‘greaser’ by almost every pendejo in this country.”

Kate sighed as she played her domino, earning a few points. “This town is full of a bunch of drunks stuck in the past. They never recovered from the war, and they’d rather hang onto their grievances than move on.”

Tilly placed her last domino, earning no points, and stood up with a grunt of frustration. “Yeah well, I just hope we don’t stay here too long. We’re supposed to be going back west, not south.” She walked away, her steps heavy with frustration.

Now alone with Javier at the small wooden table, Kate leaned back and blew out a breath. The air was hot and heavy, weighing down any motivation to work.

“Is that why you haven’t left camp much?” She inquired, her voice tinged with concern. “Because of the way people are treating you down here?”

Javier shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorta, but it doesn’t really bother me that much.”

Kate’s expression softened. She hadn’t known Javier well, but since the night of the raiders and borrowing his guitar, he had opened up more. She sensed he was a quiet presence, always listening but rarely speaking. She also noticed how much it bothered him when other gang members picked on him, especially Micah and Bill.

She chuckled softly. “Well, you certainly have a lot of patience. I’m amazed you haven’t stabbed Micah yet.”

Javier grinned and met Kate’s gaze. “Oh, I’ve thought about it many times.”

He leaned back, stabbing his knife into the table. “People like Micah don’t scare me. You know, it’s been five years since I left Mexico. Those men chasing me, I still have nightmares about them. Those are scary men.”

Kate listened intently, intrigued by his story.

“If I go back there, I’m as good as dead. They killed my mother, and I mourn her every day. But I never got to bury her. My sister married a man and ran away, and I hope she’s safe, but I’ll never know for sure.”

“Why were those men chasing you?” Kate asked quietly, curious about his past and how he ended up in the gang.

Javier scoffed, memories fueling his frustration. “My crime? My crime was wanting food and fairness—for myself and for my people. That’s why they hunt me. When I came here, I found that it was not so different.”

Kate nodded in understanding. “This land is wild, far beyond being ‘free.’ I know that as much as anybody, and like most, I learned the hard way.”

“Everyone here steals and lies. The only thing they do better here is make you think it’s not that way,” Javier said, his frustration evident. “Mexico could be a land of plenty, but those cabróns in our government won’t even pay us a fair wage.”

He looked at Kate with a sad expression. “I know I’m a thief. But at least I don’t steal the lives and hopes of others.”

Kate spoke before he could leave. “Do you think you’ll ever go back?”

He shook his head sadly, “I’ll be shot on site if I do.” Javier left her with those words.

Kate sat quietly, her eyes roaming over the camp. In the short time she’d been with this group, she had come to know many of their stories, and each one tugged at her heartstrings. There was no joyous reason that a band of misfits like them would ride together, yet the more she learned about each member, the more she understood their pain. They were all seeking a way to escape, all fleeing from something in their pasts. Some were orphaned, like Arthur and John, taken in by Dutch and Hosea. They were provided for, cared for, and yet, Kate couldn't help but doubt the sincerity of that care.

Dutch hadn't spoken to Kate since they arrived at Clemens Point. She wasn’t seeking an apology for Micah’s actions—Dutch wasn’t responsible for that—but his silence troubled her. During her time in the camp, she had observed how Dutch treated Arthur. He was dismissive yet domineering, always assuring Arthur of his position as his right-hand man, yet often prioritizing conversations with Micah. When Arthur approached Dutch for conversation, he always seemed preoccupied, only granting him full attention when there was work to be done and money to be made. Kate sensed a tension between them, a dynamic that left her uneasy.

As she gazed across the camp, Kate couldn’t shake the feeling that Dutch’s intentions for their group's safety and future were not as altruistic as they seemed. She wondered if their pursuits were leading them toward a better life or simply deeper into trouble.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Arthur shook his head, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You know, I think you have finally lost your mind," he remarked, eyeing Dutch with amused disbelief.

The boys had ridden into Rhodes earlier that afternoon, on a peculiar mission orchestrated by Dutch. The notorious gang leader had struck an unlikely alliance with Sheriff Gray, a key player in the ongoing feud between Rhodes' wealthiest families, the Grays and the Braithwaites. Their task? To reclaim stolen moonshine from the Braithwaites, which had found its way into the hands of Lemoyne raiders.

Dutch, ever the showman, had orchestrated their involvement under the guise of "helping the law." Now, adorned with shiny silver stars that marked them as deputized lawmen, the outlaws-turned-vigilantes cut an absurd figure in the bustling town.

"Amongst these drunkards, hillbillies, and slavers... good honest thieves like us, we’re bound to be moralizers in a place like this!" Dutch declared, arms outstretched as if claiming dominion over the entire town.

As they wrapped up loading the stolen moonshine into the wagon, John and Hosea offered to take the wagon to a secluded spot near camp, assuring the Sheriff that they would take care of "disposing" of the last of the moonshine. The Sheriff nodded knowingly, pocketing a couple of jugs for himself.

Before Dutch and Arthur departed, they couldn't resist indulging in their hard-earned spoils, taking more than a few swigs of the fiery alcohol to celebrate their successful mission before making their way back to camp.

“Hey you know what, why don’t I race you back to camp,” Dutch quipped, saddling his horse in an unsteady manor. 

Arthur, equally unsteady on his feet, chuckled and climbed into Belle's saddle. "You're on," he agreed, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Later that evening, Arthur stumbled back into camp, his usually confident steps a bit less steady. The setting sun bathed the campsite in a warm orange glow, adding to the relaxed atmosphere. A faint scent of moonshine lingered on his breath, a testament to the drinks he and Dutch had indulged in before returning.

Kate looked up from where she sat near the fire, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Welcome back, Deputy Morgan. Looks like you've found yourself a new career path," she teased, giving a playful flick to the shiny silver star on his chest.

Arthur chuckled, brushing off her comment as he settled beside her by the fire. "Ah, quit it. I ain't cut out for lawman duties."

He turned slightly towards Kate, a warm glow in his eyes fueled by both the alcohol and the comfort of her presence. "How was your day, Kate? You tired of being surrounded by outlaws yet?" he asked, steering the conversation. 

Kate smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting genuine contentment. "Honestly, Arthur, I've never been more grateful for the company," she admitted, her voice softening with sincerity. "After so long on my own, it's nice to be part of something, even if it's a band of outlaws."

Arthur nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames of the fire. Despite the daily lively chatter and the camaraderie of the gang, a pang of loneliness tugged at his heart. He had always been surrounded by people, yet somehow, he often felt a deep sense of solitude. The only time he felt seen, felt solace, was when he was with Kate. Her presence made him light up, whether it was a fleeting smile in the morning as they greeted eachother before going about their duties. Or on evenings such as this, when they talked about their day by the fire and simply enjoyed eachothers presence. She calmed the raging storm in his heart, and each day he grew more and more fond of her company. 

The warmth of the fire and the alcohol in his belly emboldened him slightly. "Well, if it's all the same to you, Kate, I quite enjoy your company," Arthur admitted, a bashful smile playing on his lips as he shifted closer to her, their shoulders nearly touching.

Kate's eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned in to meet his gaze. "I'll admit, Arthur, I enjoy your company more than most," she teased, a playful glint in her eyes. "But don't tell the others that," she added with a wink.

Arthur chuckled softly, the sound blending with the crackling of the fire. They settled against the log, warmed by the fire's glow. As the night deepened around them, they shared stories of their day. Arthur recounted their new duties as lawmen and the complexities of the feud between the two families, outlining Dutch's plan to navigate the situation without causing undue trouble.

The sun had long set, casting a cool, gentle darkness over the camp. Most of the gang had retired for the night, leaving only the crackling fire and the symphony of nighttime sounds—crickets chirping and frogs croaking.

Amidst the tranquil atmosphere, the peace was shattered by the distant voices of Abigail and John, their argument drifting from their tent and cutting through the night's quiet. Arthur and Kate exchanged a knowing look, their conversation momentarily interrupted by the reminder of the discord that often simmered beneath the surface of their makeshift family.

Arthur sighed, his expression a mixture of resignation and empathy as Abigail's voice rose in frustration. "Why don't you use that tiny brain of yours? Whatever you think is right and proper, do the exact opposite! Then, you'll raise a man!" Her words were hushed, as if she were trying to contain her anger despite the intensity of her tone.

John's retort came swiftly, equally filled with annoyance. "Just like your mama did? Raise a real man, like you?" His jab was met with a sharp slap from Abigail, the sound echoing through the camp.

Kate winced, noticing Arthur pinch the bridge of his nose in response to the escalating argument. Before she could interject, the soft patter of footsteps approached rapidly. In a flash, Jack emerged from his tent, clad in nothing but a nightgown, and flung himself into Arthur's lap.

Unfazed by the sudden intrusion, Arthur pulled Jack close, his voice gentle and soothing. "Hey kiddo, can't sleep?" he asked, his tone calming.

Jack nodded against his uncle's shoulder. "Mama is mad at Pa again," he murmured, his voice small and weary. Turning his head slightly, he glanced up at Kate. "Hi, Auntie Kate," he greeted quietly.

"Hey, little man," Kate responded warmly, brushing a stray hair from his eyes as his cheek rested against Arthur's shoulder.

As the voices of John and Abigail rose again, Jack buried his face against Arthur. Concern flickered in Arthur's eyes as he glanced at Kate, who suddenly had an idea.

"Why don't we go get Lorena ready for the night? You wanna help, Jack?" Kate suggested, offering a diversion to distract Jack from the tension brewing between his parents.

With a silent nod, Arthur rose from his seat, cradling little Jack in his strong arms. Kate couldn't help but watch the scene unfold before her. His towering figure enveloped the small boy with an unexpected tenderness and care. As Arthur held Jack close, his protective embrace painted a stark contrast to the tough exterior he often projected.

In that moment, Kate glimpsed a side of Arthur that stirred her heart. The way he handled Jack with such gentleness and love sparked a yearning within her. She imagined how Arthur might have been as a father—patient, kind, and devoted.

The campfire's warm glow cast a soft light on them as they moved away from the escalating voices. Arthur's features softened as he whispered reassuring words to Jack, his gaze filled with warmth and understanding.

Kate fell into step beside them, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of Arthur's caring demeanor. Despite his gruff reputation, she sensed a depth of compassion that drew her in, melting away the rough edges.

As they approached Lorena, her mare nickered in recognition, sensing familiar company. Kate reached out, her hand running over the sleek mane of the horse affectionately. Before she could retrieve her brush from the saddlebag, Jack, nestled in Arthur's arms, spoke up with innocent curiosity.

"Does she like it when you sing her lullabies?" His voice was small and earnest.

Kate's smile softened at the question. "Yes, she does. It helps calm her down and makes her feel safe, knowing I'm right here to sing her to sleep," she replied, her voice warm with affection for the horse.

Jack looked up at her, a hint of sadness in his tone. "Mama used to sing me lullabies, but she says I'm too old for them now."

Arthur chuckled softly, his hand rubbing Jack's back comfortingly. "Well, you ain't a baby anymore, Jack. Yer gettin’ older and bigger," he reassured him.

Kate's gaze lingered on Jack as Arthur cradled him in his arms. It felt like a hundred months had passed since she held her own child, since she last sang a lullaby. A pang of longing swept through her. She understood Abigail's perspective—Jack was nearly five years old—but in that moment, Kate would have given anything to sing to her baby again, no matter the age.

Jack's eyes met hers, his innocence shining through. "Can you sing me a lullaby, Auntie Kate?"

Her heart swelled with warmth as she nodded in response. Jack reached out his small arms towards her, and without hesitation, Kate embraced him.

Arthur glanced at Kate, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. He trusted her, but he didn't want to burden her with his nephew's needs. He had already come to terms with taking responsibility for the young child.

"Kate, ya don't have to—" Arthur began.

But Kate interrupted gently, reaching out to take Jack into her arms. "I don't mind at all, Arthur," she said sincerely, her voice warm with compassion.

Kate hadn't held a child since she laid her own in a dark casket with her father. The familiar weight of a child on her hip, his breath against her neck as he nestled his head on her shoulder, brought a mix of comfort and grief. She pushed the painful memories down, focusing on the present moment with Jack in her arms.

Arthur watched with a mixture of admiration and tenderness as Kate held his nephew, her cheek resting against Jack's head. As her eyes closed and she began to sway gently on her feet, rocking him as if he were a newborn, Arthur couldn't help but imagine what she must have been like as a mother—devoted, kind, and filled with love.

Kate started singing softly, her voice carrying a soothing melody into the quiet evening air.

When I was young, younger than before. I never saw the truth hanging from the door,

Now I’m older, see it face to face. Now I’m older, gotta get up, clean the place. 

I was green, greener than the hill. Where the flowers grew and the sun shown still. 

Now I’m darker than the deepest sea, just hand me down, give me a place to be.

I was strong, strong in the sun, I thought I’d see when the day was done.

Now I’m weaker than the palest blue. Oh, so weak in this need for you. 

Arthur studied her features in the soft moonlight, savoring every detail—the graceful movement of her lips as she sang, the way her hair danced in the night breeze. Kate's gentle circles on Jack's back gradually lulled him to sleep, his breathing slowing, arms going limp around her neck. A smile touched Kate's lips, and she continued to hum softly, ensuring Jack remained nestled in slumber.

As Kate swayed, Arthur felt something profound stir within him, a warmth he had never experienced. It was as though her presence kindled a fire in his heart, leading him closer to her warmth. In her company, he felt alive, radiant like the earth basking under the sun, humming with a joyful tune from the lips of a woman. For the first time in years, he began to reflect on all the moments he had missed with his own woman and child. 

Kate ceased her humming, her closed eyes and furrowed brow revealing the depth of her emotions. She released a shaky breath before speaking softly to Arthur, her voice laced with vulnerability. "When I held my baby girl for the first time, I saw her future branching out before me. Every possibility filled with something wonderful"

Arthur closed the distance between them, as if to shield her from the memories that still haunted her. Kate nestled her cheek against Jack's head, her voice trembling with unspoken sorrow. "I could have been a good mother," she whispered.

Gently, Arthur brushed his thumb across her cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Kate's eyes fluttered open at his touch, reflecting the moonlight like shimmering pools of emotion. They held unshed tears, a testament to her resilience and the burdens she carried. Despite life's hardships, she fought to maintain her kindness, a quality that only deepened Arthur's admiration.

Moved by the connection between them, Arthur closed the final gap, his lips meeting hers in a silent embrace. The kiss was soft yet filled with unspoken longing, a gentle affirmation of the feelings blossoming between them. The world around them seemed to fade as they shared this intimate moment, each touch and breath carrying the weight of unspoken words and shared emotions.

Kate removed her hand from gently rubbing circles on Jack's back, finding a new warmth against Arthur's cheek. She tilted her face, deepening their kiss as Arthur's arm wound around her waist, drawing her closer. He smelled of moonshine and tobacco, a scent that mingled with the smoky air of the campfire.

As their mouths met, Kate sighed softly, feeling their connection deepen with each tender touch. Arthur's heart raced within his chest, the world around him blurring as if the only anchor to reality was the sensation of her lips against his. Her tongue brushed against his, a silent invitation for more.

Just as the kiss intensified, Jack stirred in his sleep, breaking Arthur from the spell. Reluctantly, he pulled back, his breath slightly labored, a silent turmoil brewing within him.

"Sorry," Arthur murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "I, um,” he hesitated, “I-I should take Jack back to his ma."

Kate nodded, her eyes reflecting a shared hesitation. "Of course," she replied softly, gently handing the boy back to his uncle.

Arthur carefully settled Jack more securely in his arms. He offered Kate a tender smile, though his eyes betrayed a hint of inner conflict. "G’night, Kate," he said, his voice a mixture of warmth and unease.

"Goodnight, Arthur," she replied, her tone gentle yet tinged with an unspoken question.

With a last lingering glance, Arthur turned and made his way toward Abigail and John's tent, Jack's form cradled protectively against him. As he disappeared into the shadows, Kate stood by her sleepy mare, her heart echoing the silent uncertainty that had clouded the moment.

Later that night, Arthur lay awake on his cot, the memory of their kiss haunting his thoughts. Moonlight filtered through the canvas, casting ghostly shadows around him. The scent of campfire smoke lingered on his clothes, a tangible reminder of the evening's events.

Arthur couldn't shake the yearning that had blossomed between him and Kate, nor the underlying unease that accompanied it. The fleeting intimacy they shared left him grappling with doubts about the future, and more importantly, about himself. He cared deeply for Kate, admired her resilience and kindness, yet the complexities of their lives and the dangers they faced loomed like shadows in his mind. 

His own truth ached to be revealed, how he longed to tell her about his own son, but the guilt and shame he carried with the memories clouded all means of opening up. Kate missed her family dearly, that much was painfully obvious to him. He feared if she knew the truth about him, she wouldn’t see him the same. He too had a family once, and his own recklessness cost them their lives. He feared she would not forgive him for being so careless. 

Lost in contemplation, Arthur sighed heavily, his thoughts drifting back to Kate's soft lips and the warmth of her touch. He couldn't deny the pull he felt toward her, a desire for connection amidst the chaos of his existence.

In the quiet solitude of his tent, Arthur wrestled with conflicting emotions, uncertain of what lay ahead for them. The night stretched on, filled with unanswered questions and the restless beating of his heart. He reached for his journal, its leather cover worn and familiar, and opened it to a blank page.

With a sketching pencil in hand, he drew an image from memory—the sight of Kate cradling Jack against her cheek. Underneath the tender sketch, he penned his thoughts:

Kate has a way about her that makes a man feel alive. She’s fierce, and she's kind. She’s strong and she’s passionate. She’s utterly beautiful. And she’s too sweet for me. 

I kissed her tonight, I don’t really know why. The way she was singin’ and cradlin’ little Jack, it made me think of Eliza and Isaac. For the first time in years, I thought about all the moments I missed because I was off being a fool instead of a father. 

I see things still haven't changed. You’ll always be a fool Morgan.

I think I’m falling for Kate. I just hope she can let me down easy. Maybe I’ll just close my eyes on the way down. 

Closing his eyes, Arthur tried to still his restless thoughts. He imagined Kate's smile, the curve of her cheek as she cradled Jack, the warmth of her presence against him. The weight of his feelings tugged at him like an anchor, both comforting and disquieting.

With a heavy sigh, Arthur surrendered to the embrace of exhaustion. The world around him faded into darkness, and for a fleeting moment, his turbulent heart found respite in the realm of dreams.