#so not only am i interning and researching at the same time

[letarasstuff]

University and academics in general seem like you are running from putting one fire out to the next

And somehow every house on the street is on fire right now?!

[feral-ballad]

“My name is Nour Saqer, for the name remains when all is lost. I turned 22 years old last November. Yes. My youthful time was wasted on horrible days. Yes. Those days still continue.

My name is Nour Saqer. And I am 22 years old. I am a fifth-year dental student at Al-Azhar University of Gaza. I am an aspiring student. I am eager and passionate about my studies. Until the last minute, I was allowed to stay at my house on Oct. 7th. 2023 I was still working on a scientific research proposal that was supposed to be published by me and my teammates of young researchers late in November, that year.

This picture of me was taken late 2022 during an international dental conference held in campus.

During my college years alone. Me and my family have had to forcefully evacuate, and run out of our house four times. In 2019, 2021, 2022, and finally in 2023. Each time was in fear of the same threat; meeting our deaths under rubble. My name is Nour Saqer. And I have always been a Gazan. Each of those past times. If we were fortunate enough, we would discover that our home was in repairable damage. There would be a roof over our heads still. We were still fortunate. We still had luck.

But ever since October 7th. I haven't returned home. We were among the first families to evacuate Al-Rimal neighborhood from the very first day of this genocide, we had to turn our backs to it and expect no return. Two floors of my family house, along with my father's store, and only source of income, have been severely destructed due to neighboring missiles. And my university buildings were heavily exploded. All forms of life have been reaped from my city. My hometown.

This is what's left of our campus. I was supposed to have my graduation ceremony here.

My name is Nour Saqer. And I had an enthusiastic heart. And an energetic body. I played sports and walked down every street until I couldn't. I loved my family and friends dearly. I wrote poems about them. I spent time loving them and cherishing their presence. I loved life with all its little things. With all its unattainable things. I loved the grass and the tall buildings. And I loved all people. I loved my people. All their faces. All their talents. All their hidden lives. All we shared. Until we didn't. Everything I have ever loved I lost.

This picture of me was taken during a happy moment on the roof of our house.

This is all that is left of that picture now.

I am currently sheltered in Rafah with my family of 7. Sharing a place with 30 other homeless people. By the end of Ramadan, me and my family would have to evacuate and seek shelter for yet the 8th time due to housing problems. I am so tired of not having any sense of stability. Nothing to guarantee. Nothing to call my own. Every passing minute the situation in Rafah gets worse. Every passing minute I am losing loved ones and relatives. Every passing minute costs me my sanity. Costs me health. Costs me my basic rights to simply live.

I have nothing left to lose or pay the price with except for my life.

I don’t know how to retell my life story in limited words, how to make the most ordinary moments sound precious. How do I equate my value to someone deserving a life of safety? How do I shape myself as someone worth saving?

I have been interviewing myself for days. All my stories are choking me. All my grief is piling up and muting me. I keep trying to find a way to present the best of myself. To make myself someone you'd want to look at. Listen to. And even more,

Help.

I am finally placing both hope and faith in your helpful hands. I am asking you. Please put an end to this continuing tragedy. And help me get to safety. Before it's too late.

It should be in your knowledge that:

It costs $5,000 per person to get out of Rafah through the Boarder Crossing to Egypt. The rest of the donations will be to secure my tution money for the fifth and final year of dental school.

Thank you.”

[simpxxstan]

HELLOOO!!! CONGRATS FOR THE 550 FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR I HOPE U GET MORE FOLLOWERS BC UR WRITTING?? DELICIOUS 💗💗

But I would like to request seungcheol + dilfism ?? Like have u SEEN that man??

Thank you!! Have a good day!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE MAN <333 thank you for sending this in! LOVED writing dilf cheol. i swear this man and his sexiness of 30s will be the death of me. inspired completely by his new glasses look at caratland 2024.

this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.

genre: smut, enemies to lovers, age gap, dilf!seungcheol, lawyer au.

word count: 13k words.

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ nsfw content. 13 YEAR AGE GAP, mention of suicide, single dad!seungcheol, a ton of legal terms (not vouching to be accurate because i am neither a lawyer nor a law student nor is my research perfect), seungcheol is a bit selfish and toxic (but there's a redemption arc), ANGSTY angst, but A LOT OF FLUFF TO COMPENSATE. smut warnings: protected sex, oral receiving (f and m), mild dirty talk, implicit size kink, implicit spit kink.

"it's my first case!" you whine in surrender, slumping on the shoulder of your friend, as you both re-read the case file in front of you for the n-th time this morning. yoona pats your head, but she knows even she can say nothing to console you. it must be either sheer bad luck or some unknown person's vengeance, that you're against choi seungcheol in the very first case of your life.

y/l/n y/n: the lawyer of the plaintiff, hwang seola.

choi seungcheol: the lawyer of the defendant, KNT enterprises pvt. ltd.

nothing can save you from losing your first case in the worst way possible. not even the stellar letters of recommendation from your professors. not even your exceptional performance in the national lawyers examination process. not even your diligence during your interning years that's earned you the title of golden rookie. everyone expects you to make it big, including yourself- but that's clearly not going to happen if you lose the very first actual case you have to face in your life.

"at least no one will mock you for losing," yoona says in a meek voice. you scoff indignantly, "as if that's any comfort. still doesn't change the fact that i'm going to start off my career on the worst foot possible. why does my luck have to be so shitty?"

"hey, think about the positives. imagine how much of a learning experience it'll be. i know best how much you consider seungcheol as your idol."

you sigh. five years ago, when seungcheol had blown up across the country because of his historic debut in the court of corporate law, winning case after case and setting precedents that were welcomed with open arms, you'd looked up to him. five years ago, he'd walked into your college for an invited seminar during your first semester and blown your mind away. five years ago, you would cry in joy at the opportunity to even spend a minute in the same courtroom as seungcheol and see him in action. five years ago, he'd been the ideal man of your dreams- perfect in every damn way possible.

the only issue with that is that he's still the ideal man in your eyes. even if losing the case against him won't make your nervous, just being in close quarters with him for long hours will make you infinitely nervous.

"maybe i should recommend boss to let you take up the ca-" you tease yoona, and she squeals, whining protests instantly. "no thank you!" you laugh, hoping to lighten the tension of the moment. but the relief is only temporary, and the weight of the upcoming case lingers in your mind for hours later.

_

the first trial of the case is a week later. before that, you decide to change your mindset to a better thought process- even if you simply assume that you're going to lose this case, you're still going to give in your 100% so that you can step away with no regrets and only more knowledge gained. the first step to that, of course, is speak to your client personally, without the intermediation of the firm you work at.

mrs hwang turns out to be a woman just a few years older than you. the primary reason why she's suing the company her husband used to work at is because her husband had been driven to suicide by the constant pressure in his workplace to keep some illegal activities and fraud under the covers, which had not only harmed his mental health and morals but also affected the way his superiors judged his work performance. she may be young, but she's lost her husband merely three years after their marriage, and just one look at her face makes your heart ache in sympathy.

this isn't the first time you've seen such a case. during your years of study, you've studied plenty of cases involving companies ill-treating their workers and leading them to take up drastic steps in desperation. not only does this case come under a serious mistreatment of employees under labour laws, but also violates laws governing corporations which demand them to steer off illegal activities and maintain integrity. it's a very interesting case, and you're highly intrigued and instantly drawn into the case. there are several nuances that you know you may miss out by a hair's breadth if you're not careful. but you cannot take chances. if you have to even put up a fair fight against choi seungcheol, you're going to have to leave no stone unturned.

at the end of your discussions with mrs hwang, you're fully convinced that the company is indeed at fault here. however, you're going to have to prove it in court with the meagre evidence you have- which is low anyway, considering how big companies use their financial and social capital to turn such cases remarkably in their favour. the primary example of that being them getting seungcheol, the country's top corporate lawyer, to represent them, while mrs hwang can only hire you, a rookie lawyer at a lesser reputed firm.

however, as you walk into the courtroom, you convince yourself to not think about how the odds are against your favour from the first moment itself, to calm your nerves. you're here to debut with a bang, and you will fake it till you make it.

_

it doesn't work.

it doesn't work because the moment you enter the courtroom, you see choi seungcheol sitting next to the defendant's CEO on the other side of the room, dressed in the most immaculate suit, his glasses perched on his nose as he inspects the documents you've submitted in court prior to the trial as preliminary evidence. when you walk towards the bench you're going to sit at, he looks up at you.

it's a careful, measured glance. a glance of confidence, a glance of self-awareness. he knows he's going to win. and yet, he smiles at you indulgently.

moments later, he meets you halfway across the room.

"good morning. i'm seungcheol," he extends his hand for a shake, his nose upturned as he looks down at you with an aura that nearly blows you away. you wish that you hadn't worn heels tonight- because if he keeps looking at you like that, your knees are going to give up.

"of course, who wouldn't know you?" you steady your voice mustering a smile.

seungcheol's smile does not change. "it's nice to meet the golden rookie finally."

his words send shivers down your spine. there's just something about meeting your idol from so up-close that you want to submit instantly to his infinitely higher knowledge and experience to you. there's also something particular to him that's affecting your mind and body- because if seungcheol at thirty-one was handsome, he's absolutely godly at thirty-six. he's aged like fine wine- the rimless glasses sitting firmly on his nose, tiny wrinkles around his eyes, and a few graying hairs around his sideburns.

you don't get a chance to respond as the judge enters the court and you're pulled away to your bench, sitting next to a very nervous-looking mrs hwang. you forcefully drag your eyes away from seungcheol, who still has that tiny smile on his face as he talks to his client, and focus on your client, giving her much-needed confidence boosts (needed both by her and by you).

_

as anticipated, the first trial does not go well. it's just your fucking luck that the judge knows seungcheol already- but then, it was wrong of you to not consider that already, knowing how famous he is. on top of it all, mrs hwang breaks down in the middle of seungcheol's questioning, shaken completely by his straightforward questions and uncaring gaze, and the court gets adjourned, leaving you stranded without any proper progress against seungcheol's stronger case. the next trial is scheduled for a week later. you wish you could think that your work has been cut out for you, but it's far from that.

the second trial comes quickly- but it doesn't let you progress much further. seungcheol looks even more nonchalant on the second trial- dressed in another suit, he's less fierce today during his questioning. you don't notice it, because you're too flustered with your own work, but his eyes stray towards you more often. his eyes glaze over with something soft every time you make eye contact, and you immediately look away, like you've been caught in the act. but seungcheol doesn't let it slip- he keeps up his passive aggression when he's shaking hands with you before exiting the courtroom.

"tough luck, rookie. focus between the lines more."

his words make you even more nervous than before, but you put on a brave face for seola's sake. this motivates you to change your gameplan, and you decide to stop focusing on existing evidence, which is scarce, and use more verbal reports of other employees who have willingly stepped up to speak the truth after the suicide of their friend and colleague. by the time you're just three days before the third trial date, you have a solid set of verbal witnesses who will provide evidence on your side, but every time you feel slightly more confident than earlier, seungcheol's voice rings in your ears and you lose all hope.

on the morning of the fourth day, you receive an email from your boss.

y/n, please attend a lunch meeting on my behalf with some of our older clients (whose list i have attached below) today.

you jump to the opportunity- being provided a chance to interact with the old clients of the firm is a lucrative opportunity to impress those who've stayed with the firm from the beginning (and naturally, have graduated into stakeholders at the firm).

so it's safe to say you're in for a rude shock when you reach the lunch spot at a five-star restaurant along the banks of the han river, and find none of your clients but instead you find seungcheol waiting for you.

_

"close your mouth and stop drooling," jeonghan's voice somehow appears in his mind when he sees you enter the restaurant. "you make it obvious how hot you find women in suits."

but seungcheol cannot take his eyes off you. hasn't been able to for the last two times he's seen you. even if the courtroom is no place for indecency, he's had plenty of indecent thoughts whenever he's seen you, dressed in your suits and blazers, your curves prominent and your hair tied up in a practical ponytail. he should not think like this about you- he knows it. you both are set up at natural odds because of the case- but somehow, that makes him more interested in you. and seungcheol would not have it any other way. he looks forward to each trial of an otherwise boring case just to see you- the passion on your face whenever you're arguing your case, the way your mouth opens in shock whenever seungcheol casually dismisses a piece of information you've clearly worked hard on, the way you stare in exasperation at the witnesses when they speak against your stance, the hunger in your eyes whenever you're questioning his client, and the fire in you that burns you to work harder before each trial. seungcheol hasn't seen a lawyer as passionate as you in many years- most would have given up even before starting just due to his formidable reputation, but you're not even intimidated by his on-brand dead stare that works on everyone.

"i was told i'm here to meet clients of my firm. i didn't know you hired our firm for your personal needs," you cock an eyebrow as you stand in front of him, and seungcheol smirks. that attitude does nothing to filter his thoughts.

"would you have come if i'd invited you personally?"

you open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it. "have a seat, please. let's enjoy lunch."

you do so immediately. submissive. "but i still don't understand why i'm here." bratty.

he places a finger on his lips as the food he's pre-ordered arrives. the smell of the delicious food breaks your frigid attitude, it obviously helps that seungcheol's ordered your self-proclaimed favourite dish on your public instagram account. "i'm sure you must be hungry." seungcheol digs in himself, his eyes on yours as he carefully licks the spoon clean. your eyes flicker to his lips instantly before you're staring back into his eyes, defiance laced in your gaze. you pick up the spoon and start eating as well. seungcheol smiles.

i'm a dad to two daughters. i know how to tame brats.

after a few minutes, he finally speaks. "do you know the first step to winning a battle, rookie?"

you look up and tilt your head slightly in question.

"knowing your opponent."

"i already know you."

"that's what you think. that's why you're not going to win."

your eyes flash with anger. "are you just going to rub that into my face? is that why i'm here?"

"so what? you don't want to win? isn't the most loved story of human history the tale of the underdog?"

"frankly, my opponent isn't even you. it's your client, who isn't even here. so i don't understand the point of this meeting."

"so much can be learnt merely through observation, rookie. you can't know someone by looking at their annual reports and how much money they pay their employees."

"i don't need to know anything more than that! unlike you, i don't wish to meddle in people's personal lives to win cases. i don't need your brain games."

seungcheol chuckles. "the courtroom is nothing but brain games, rookie. think how far facts can take you, and then think how much further imagination can take you."

you gasp, pinching your nose. "i'm sorry, what? imagination? i'll win on evidence and evidence only. i used to admire you as an icon of law. but now, when i see you defend an obvious criminal with such blatant stubbornness, i'm having second thoughts."

"obvious criminal? are you telling me you've obtained the evidence you need to prove my client guilty in court?"

"and what if i do?"

seungcheol sits back, squaring his shoulders to his full stature. "you shouldn't tell me about it then, rookie."

"when you'd walked into my law school five years ago for a seminar, this wasn't the choi seungcheol i'd grown to love as an icon."

fuck. five years ago? just how young were you?

"i'd advise you not to get emotional about the case. the courtroom is no place for admiration or lov- or any other emotions."

"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"

"why should i? i'm surviving just fine, aren't i?"

by this point, seungcheol can see the way your nails dig into your own palms in frustration. it's so amusing, how emotionally you're dealing with this. in a world of black and white, seeing you behave gray in every scenario makes seungcheol think he's lived thirty-six years of his life incorrectly.

finally when you cannot come up with any rebuttal, you stand up, dragging your chair on purpose to make noise. "there's absolutely nothing more for me to talk to you about. i hope you've learnt about me today, choi seungcheol. i've certainly learnt a lot too." and you walk away before he has the opportunity to say anything.

_

lunch with seungcheol leaves you shaken and stuttering. even as you open the door of the cab outside and ask the driver to take you to the office without a second thought, you spend the entire journey lost in your own thoughts. every little moment of the meeting lingers in your mind, unsettling your confidence. from the way he calls you rookie to his quiet arrogance and confidence, everything about him is so frustrating and yet... he draws you in. your perception about him has definitely changed after today, but even with the added understanding of just how selfish choi seungcheol can be, you can't ignore the sheer attraction you feel towards him.

it stays on your mind through the next three days. and on the morning of the third trial, you're stuck with two different thoughts plaguing your mind.

the first: a genuine concern about how the third trial is going to pan out. it's likely to be your last chance to even bring the judge's opinion to your side, because if you can't present good enough evidence today, there's no way to sway the jury to your side.

the second: choi seungcheol is a man who annoys you but you also have this innate craving to impress him. your respect for him hasn't changed, but your conversation with him has revealed to you just how cutthroat the world of law really is. and his suave attitude, the confidence with which he's so sure he's going to win, and his infinitely superior experience to you makes some part of you so desperate to seek his attention and impress him. show him that you can do well too. show him that you're not going to make beginner's mistakes. show him that you're more than a mere rookie.

but when you walk into the courtroom, seola next to you, your sunglasses perched on your head, you stare at the empty bench behind you. it was supposed to be full with the four witnesses you'd invited today and were relying on to sail through the the third trial. frantically, you ask your colleague who's assisting you in the trial, "where are the witnesses? are they running late? can you ple-"

"they're not going to come today, y/n."

seungcheol's icy voice cuts through the chaos and reaches you sharply. you spin around to find him dressed immaculately in a midnight blue turtleneck that shows off the stubble growing down his jaw.

"sorry, what?"

"you heard me the first time. none of them are going to come today."

"and how do you know?"

seungcheol smirks as he shrugs and takes a step closer towards you. "i have my ways, rookie."

you're fuming at this point, but you really can't speak your mind because seola breaks down in tears right next to you and you can't help but shift away your focus from seungcheol's dangerous eyes and take care of her.

it's honestly a miracle that after the complete sweep that seungcheol presents in the third trial, with no new evidence nor substantial evidence from your end, you still get another chance at a fourth trial, scheduled two weeks from now, in a pitiful announcement from the judge, imploring you to use this final chance to collect as much as evidence as you can.

_

when the trial ends, you ask seola to go home, and you lock yourself up in a bathroom stall in the court building, trying to come to terms with everything that's come to pass today. it's been an overwhelming morning and you're still shaken badly by it all. every moment you spend in this world with seungcheol, he seems to make it his personal mission to show you that there's no place for softness or emotions in this cut-throat world.

when you exit the washroom, you find seungcheol standing outside, an unlit cigarette between his lips.

"did you bribe them?"

he turns to look at you, his eyes clearly wide in surprise. "what are you saying?"

you take a step closer to him, your entire body shaking with fury. "did you bribe the fucking witnesses?"

"we're in public, woman, control your tongue."

"i'm not ashamed of anything i'm saying though, are you?"

seungcheol's lips twist in distaste and he drags you away from the public place to a quieter spot secluded near the parking lot. "i understand you're frustrated because of that no-show today, but you're speaking nonsense-"

"i'm speaking perfect sense, seungcheol! only you knew that i was going to bring in witnesses today."

"only me?"

"except two people at my firm, one of who is my best friend, and the other is a colleague who's assisting me in the case."

"who knows? maybe your friend's the snitch-"

you step closer to him, seething in anger. "don't you fucking make false allegations, choi seungcheol!"

"you're the one making false allegations here, really."

"you'll have to admit it, seungcheol. someday. if all your fame and reputation has been through such cheap tricks and under-the-table dirty business, you'll have to pay for it-"

"or what?" seungcheol puts back the cigarette between his lips, and lights it with a lighter. he takes in a big puff, and exhales right into your face. "or what, y/n? maybe you should take my advice instead. and stop making rookie mistakes."

as he walks away from you, you shout behind him, "i'm going to expose you, seungcheol!"

"empty threats, la la la." his voice trails back, sending shivers down your spine, as you're left alone in the dark parking lot, wallowing in your own pathetic helplessness.

_

your search for further evidence has led you to a complete dead-end. the most important thing that you need, the one that will clinch the case for you absolutely, is any - even one- document directly coming from KNT to seola's husband. unfortunately, you've gone through his emails and fax multiple times, but found nothing. nothing on his laptop, no hard drives, no soft drives, no external devices, nothing on his mobile phone or other such devices either. today you're searching all his belongings again and again, but it's still the dead-end. you realise that there's no point looking for more witnesses because seungcheol's just going to drive them away by whatever tricks he's using. and you're confident that seungcheol's thinking a step ahead of you- so any new evidence sources that you might come up with now might have already been dismissed by seungcheol through some back-up plan of his.

"seola, i need you to think once more, please. did he use any other device apart from the one at his office and the one at home? any laptop or any other mobile phone?"

"no... i can't remember anything else, really. we couldn't afford anything more too..."

you grimace. "i hope you don't get offended, but i'm sure he received quite a bit of money from whatever services he was providing KNT. enough to motivate him to keep quiet and hold on for so long. otherwise an honest man like him wouldn't want to get into this mess, would he?"

seola doesn't reply immediately, tears silently dropping down his cheeks.

you sigh and place a hand on her shoulders, rubbing softly as she breaks down into more tears. in the last few weeks, you've become surprisingly quite close. you've comforted her through her worst moments, feeling compassionate both as a woman and as a lawyer. and she, in turn, has helped you without any qualms, in not just the case but also lent a patient ear to you whenever you've wanted to rant, made ramen for you whenever you've worked till late, and let you stay over at her place whenever the rain outside's become too torrential for you to take the bus back home.

after a few long moments, seola is finally able to gain back her composure. "y/n.... he did mention something about an outstation office... towards the outskirts of the city. he used to go there twice a month. he told me it was for sending out packages to the other branches of the company... but maybe you could see there once?" your eyes light up with excitement as you hear seola's words. is this finally the breakthrough you'd been looking for through high and low? is this finally going to be your trump card to win the case? your rational side tells you to not become overjoyed immediately, but something in you is desperate to see that cockiness wiped off seungcheol's face, and bring him down to earth from whatever higher place his arrogance has placed himself at.

"seola, can you give me any tentative location for it? i'm going to go check it now."

"now? but the forecast is showing there's going to be thunderstorms tonight! there's so much thunder grumbling out there-"

"it doesn't matter, seola. i can't afford to lose any more time."

_

seungcheol's been stuck in traffic for almost an hour now, and the windshield wiper is absolutely useless in preventing the rain from cascading on his front window. the rain is relentless- just like the thoughts tormenting his heart. the reason he's returning home so late is because there had been a dinner party at the workplace cafeteria, hosted by his colleagues and closest friends, jeonghan, joshua, wonwoo and minghao. they're all lawyers with their own reputations, and the only friends they all have now. the point of the dinner? celebrating seungcheol's (upcoming) win in the KNT vs mrs hwang case. (and also to get seungcheol's mind off y/n, who's distracted him from his work all week, ever since their encounter at the parking lot of the courthouse.)

it'd been a mistake to stay out for so long. a sheer lapse of judgement, and seungcheol has not choice but to curse at himself right now. his daughters have called him already, their voices sleepy as they stay up for their father to return home to eat ice cream with them, before they fall into bed.

"and yet, you have no desire to live up to the expectations of hundreds of law students like me who look up to you? you don't care about the youth you're letting down with this attitude?"

y/n's words ring in his mind.

as the rain pours down cruelly, seungcheol's heart lets out silent cries.

he's a failure.

he's failed his family. thirteen years ago, when his parents had cast him out of their house after he'd failed to get a job at a good law firm.

that attitude's gonna get you nowhere, kid! stop running your mouth and focus on your work!

he's failed his first love. nine years ago, four years before he'd finally made his mark in the country's law scene, his wife had divorced him and left their children with him, because he'd not been able to earn enough for her.

stop being such a social activist, seungcheol! the world isn't soft like you. stop being so stuck up and emotional!

and now he's failing his daughters. day after day, they'd stay up late, waiting to spend some quality time with their father. night after night, they'd end up sleeping alone because seungcheol's insomnia didn't let him sleep with them. month after month, he'd promise to take them to their long-due vacation, but he was always too busy to take leave for two weeks at once. year after year, they'd wait for him to come to sports' day but seungcheol could never make it.

appa, if you can't take us to jeju... can we go for the school trip this year to jeju? all our friends are going to go for it...

all these painful thoughts triggered simply by one person- you. you're an unprecedented variable in his life, someone he couldn't even imagine to be a part of his life even a month ago. and yet, you've made him feel so many emotions, that had become dormant for years, in such a short span of time.

he's disappointing you too.

he doesn't know why it hurts what you think of him. seungcheol had thought that at thirty-six, he's finally ascended from these petty thoughts. but somehow your judgemental gaze, your innocent words and your fresh perspectives have shaken him to the core.

or perhaps he does know why, and he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

you remind him of himself.

but you're far better than he was. he'd been a coward, a loser, too quick to give up, and too hasty to drown in his own pity party. you're a fighter, a challenger, not accepting the cruelties of status quo, and too passionate to give up your sense of justice just to fit in with the cut-throat dirty reality.

you're 10 times the lawyer than he could ever be, and something about that makes him so inexplicably drawn to you.

because you're the person he's always wanted to idolised.

no wonder that when you'd told him that you'd looked up to him as an idol, he'd laughed at himself.

the traffic jam disperses slowly, and seungcheol breaks out of his daze. the clock shows 10.30 pm, and the rain shows no sign of stopping. thankfully, the traffic is now moving smoothly.

_

after almost half an hour of standing at the bus stop, waiting for something to pass by, there's finally a car with a very bright beam slowing down in front of you. it's a private car, but you hope it can give you a l-

"what are you doing here?!" the words escape your mouth as soon as you notice who's in the driver as the car window rolls down.

"get in, rookie."

you consider hesitating, but seungcheol's car looks warm... and safe. so you do get in, hating how there's water everywhere you're touching, spoiling the clearly expensive leather of the seats. but seungcheol doesn't say anything even as you shuffle in and finally settle on the passenger seat.

he thankfully doesn't ask you anything as he lets you take a breath and get warm enough. so about five minutes pass before he asks you, "what were you thinking, standing out there in this rain?" his voice is low, almost cracked, but laced with serious concern. you notice that he's still dressed in his typical suits. is he returning from work so late?

"i had work here," you say carefully avoiding the connection about the case.

"so late at night?"

"it was important."

"that it couldn't wait till the morning?"

"no."

you're aware by the way his jaw is clenched that he's getting annoyed by your short answers. but you have no option except to be as vague as possible- his mind works too fast for you.

"where's your home?"

you tell him the locality, and he sighs. "that's on the opposite side of town."

"i know, just... maybe you can drop me at a more crowded bus stop? the one where i was waiting was a bit remote, but a more crowded one will definitely have more frequent buses-"

"you're out of your mind."

"huh?"

"just because you're irresponsible doesn't mean i will be too. i cannot and will not leave you in the middle of the road in this rain so late at night."

"seungcheol, i don't want to barge-"

"you're not barging into anything. you'll come home with me, change into drier clothes and sleep in for the night so that you don't fall sick."

"y-your home?"

"yes. do you have a better idea?"

you gulp, his gaze stern. you don't have a better idea, in fact getting to change into warm clothes and get into someone's house sounds divine right now. the only problem is that it's.... seungcheol's home. if you can't handle him in his everyday suits, you wonder what thoughts seungcheol in his natural abode will spark in you.

"i'll always be grateful to you."

seungcheol nods, and the rest of the journey is silent.

_

seungcheol doesn't know yet if it's a good or a bad idea. he did it as an impulse- perhaps some part of him hopes he's still redeemable in your eyes, so he wants to do the right thing for once. but he won't know if it's the right think for everyone until he reaches home.

when he parks the car and takes you up to his flat, he can hear the television blaring harry potter from outside the flat, and he can see the way your eyebrows furrow at the sound. so he slowly unlocks the door, to reveal his two daughters sitting on the couch, undoubtedly watching their favourite harry potter movies again, wearing identical pyjamas specially designed for the identical twins.

he can hear you gasp as you step into the house, and the girls come into your view.

there's an awkward moment of silence and staring, before sol comes running to him and wraps herself around his waist. "appa! we're right at the last scene of prisoner of azkaban, your favourite part!"

seungcheol almost tears up. how can they welcome him so warmly every night even though he's come home so late?

he clears his throat. "sounds like you've been having fun, girls. but first, say hello to y/n unnie-"

"imo," you whisper next to him, your figure shrunk with the cold.

"no unnie," he whispers back. "this is choi sol, our maknae, and that's choi byul, my eldest." the girls wave and shyly say hello, their dimpled smiles flashing politely as they bow. you bow back, "hi sol and byul! sorry you're meeting unnie in this state~"

"are you also a lawyer?"

"did you get caught in the rain?"

"do you work with appa in his office?"

"do you want fresh clothes?"

you giggle at the contrasting questions from the two girls, their starkly different personalities evident. "yes, yes, no, and yes please, if you could be so kind," you smile back, your dainty lips curving into a pretty bow that takes his breath away. sollie shifts from where she'd been wrapped around seungcheol to take your hand gently. "do you think my clothes will fit you? i think byul's clothes will. she has a very warm nightdress..." and she drags you away to her room, welcoming you in without even a single moment's hesitation. byul is more reserved in her welcome, but still warm. she follows the two of you shortly, and seungcheol is left at his doorstep alone, but filled with such a flurry of emotions in his heart that leaves his soul warmed unlike he's felt in years.

about twenty minutes later, he comes out of his bathroom after a refreshing warm shower, his hair soft after the shampoo. he can hear voices from the kitchen, loud-pitched voices of his daughters and the softer, lower voice that he recognises as you.

"unnie, do you want to have ramen?" byul's voice rings out. "we were going to have ice cream but you might feel too cold for that." sol adds, "did you eat dinner, unnie? didn't appa eat dinner with you?" "no, w- we- he picked me on the way when he saw me stranded in the rain. we didn't have dinner... together."

seungcheol's heart breaks and heals a little at the same time. he's taken the right step for now... but seeing his little girls like this have generated images and thoughts in his mind that he had shelved away forever.

the idea of a family.

the idea of giving them a new mother figure.

as he walks towards the kitchen, he can see the way sol and byul cling to you although they've met you barely half an hour ago. perhaps it's because they don't have any cousins and you feel like a sister? perhaps it's because they like bossing over adults, especially since they boss over him so much? perhaps it's because they've already been charmed by your magnetic appeal- your softness and your innocence, mingled with an intelligence that lets you befriend everyone.

"are y'all annoying y/n already?" byul immediately faux pouts, and he can see your eyes light up. "seungcheol, she looks exactly like you," your voice whispers with the revelation. "yes, she's my daughter. kinda expected, don't you think?" he laughs. it's sarcastic of course, because sol and byul actually resemble him more than any other father-daughter pair he's seen in his life. it's almost like they haven't gotten any of their mother's genes. and seungcheol doesn't really regret it. it's been nine years, he's gotten over that pain. his only regret is to not be able to provide a second parent to his children, who'd grown up in spite of being cut off completely by their mother. and his busy life has left him with no space to date or even think of marriage...

except right now.

right now, when he sees you wearing byul's nightdress that barely reaches your knees, cooking ramen with sol sitting on the kitchen counter next to you, chatting away about harry potter, and byul carefully carving out ice cream into bowls for the four of them, seungcheol thinks maybe it's time.

maybe he's found the one.

and maybe, he's already fallen beyond scope to return.

_

you didn't get much chance to talk to seungcheol last night, but when you wake up on the guest bed the next morning, you can see him as soon as you open the door. he's sitting in the balcony, sipping a cup of tea, reading a newspaper, his glasses sitting prettily on his nose.

"morning," your voice is still raspy in spite of your sleep being perfectly fulfilling.

he turns to look at you, his gaze uncharacteristically soft, much different from how he sees you at court.

"hi. tea?"

you nod, and wobble over to sit next to him. the tea clears your throat a lot, and you can finally open your eyes wide enough to see the glorious view from his balcony. so you soak in the nature for some time, while seungcheol buries his nose into the newspaper again.

"i didn't know you were a father."

seungcheol hums. "did you like them? my girls? they liked you a lot."

"can't help but not like them. they balance each other so perfectly- as if they're your twin personas."

"that's deep."

"but it's true."

seungcheol chuckles and goes back to his newspaper. the morning air hits your face and you feel so much more alive than you'd normally do on a thursday morning. "when do you have to get to work?" he asks you.

"i still have about an hour and half left."

"will you go home and then-"

"yeah. the office is really close to my place, like a minute's walk. so i'll leave soon, don't worry-"

"you'll stay for breakfast." seungcheol says firmly. "the girls will want to see you before you leave."

and you can't turn that down. so you simply nod in agreement, carefully taking a look at the man sitting across you. seungcheol at home is so unimaginably different from seungcheol at court. if he's fire in the courtroom, then he's water at home. he's cold and practical in the real world, but with his daughters, he's the most gentle person you've met. something about the soft smile he gives when he indulges his girls. something about the way his eyes light up whenever they talk to him about anything, even if it's trivial. something about the way he's taken care of you since last night, not just giving you a shelter during a terrible night but also giving you so much warmth from his personal life. it's all made you see a completely different side to seungcheol than you'd met at the courtroom, and it's changed the way you've grown to see him completely.

now you know that seungcheol was not harsh to you that day at lunch, he was simply being realistic. his cockiness and arrogance is just self-confidence, it doesn't define who he is as a person. and he's still a man you can look up to and admit, without shame, to yourself that this is the ideal man in your eyes.

your phone pings right then, and you open it to see the mail that's arrived.

the cup of tea almost slips and falls from your hands as you jump up in your seat in joy. seungcheol looks up at you in alarm, "what happened?" your smile is bright, just like the sun this morning. "i have an emergency at work, i'll have to leave now! please say goodbye to sol and byul from my side!" and you rush into your room to change into your clothes from last night, still damp but at least cleaner, and you literally run out of the house, waving and thanking seungcheol again and again, leaving him very very confused indeed.

_

seungcheol feels incredibly at peace the next day when he walks into the courtroom. even though you'd disappeared suddenly like that without any explanation, he's quite sure that he's back in your good books. not that it matters much- because what really counts is how he's feeling about himself. and after many years, he's feeling good. the usual guilt that engulfs him as a whole every day as he wakes up to face a new morning, isn't bothering him. he feels like he's achieved something, he's done something right, and he's going to get better from now on.

but as soon as he pushes open the doors of the courtroom, he feels like he's missing something out. everyone on his side of the bench seems flustered as hell, papers rumpled and expressions distraught. but he doesn't get an opportunity to ask what's going on because you catch his attention first.

"seungcheol, can we talk for a second?"

"not right now, i have to talk to my team-"

"this is urgent. you'll want to hear this, i promise."

seungcheol lets out a long sigh as he takes in your words. there's a crisp confidence in your words today that intrigue him. "okay go ahead," he finally replies.

"in private, if you please." he follows you wordlessly out of the room, and you lead him out towards a small isolated office in the corner of the building, that's totally deserted. seungcheol leans back against the closed door, completely silent as he waits for you to settle your papers and finally look up at him.

"so what's this about? you wanna kiss me or someth-"

"you're going to lose the case today. i've found enough evidence to prove the absolute guilt of KNT, and the ceo will go to jail by the end of the court session today."

"you're bluffing me."

"i can show you the evidence, but i'd rather you'd see it in court."

"then why are you telling me this now? to pity me?" seungcheol's mouth fills with bile as a dread settles over him. the tables are turned- now he feels as rattled as he had seen you feel that day at lunch. what if you're being serious right now? what if you've actually found incriminating evidence? but he's gone through all potential sources of evidence with his client, left no stone unturned to hide all tracks-

"so that maybe you can step off the case in time. do you really want your daughters to find out you've been defending your client for so long knowing you're defending a criminal?"

seungcheol's heart skips a beat.

"do not bring them into this."

"i'm not bringing anyone into anything. this is just me being nice to you because i know what it feels like to be disappointed by someone you look up to."

"do you hear what you're saying, y/n?" he takes two steps closer to you. "this is borderline blackmail. i don't even know if you're bluffing or not, and you're already blackmailing me using my daughters. have you fallen to the same crude level i'm in? are you going to disappoint me like this?"

his words have the expected effect on you. he can see your cheeks flush pink. "seu-seungcheol, don't twist my words." you take a step back, your back straightening as he sees confidence seep back into your face.

"and maybe you should stop worrying about my morals and worry more about how badly you're going to lose the case. from next time, don't make rookie mistakes." your finals words, before you leave the room, ring in his ears and cause goosebumps to erupt all over his skin.

as soon as you're gone, seungcheol slams the desk in front of him, his brain running at a hundred miles an hour. what might have slipped from his sight? what might he have missed? he immediately calls the ceo of KNT enterprises.

"what have you been hiding from me?"

"oh? mr choi, what happened to greetings? good morning to yo-"

"nothing's good about today morning, mr kim. what have you been hiding from me? i'm not going to ask you again."

"nothing! i've bared my entire soul to you for the case."

"mr kim, there's a fresh piece of incriminating evidence that's been found, and i cannot do anything to stop mrs hwang's lawyer from submitting it to the court unless you tell me what it is exactly."

"mr choi, you're mistaken, there's nothing left to be wiped-"

"the first rule of a client and lawyer relationship," his voice is seething and snarky, volume rising with each word, "is that you should never lie to your lawyer." seungcheol knows if mr kim was in front of him right now, he'd be quaking in his shoes. he can imagine a similar situation on the other side of the phone too. he knows he's intimidating enough when he wants to be.

"i didn't think it would be important-"

"you're not the person to judge what's important and what's not, mr kim."

there's a sigh and the voice becomes shaky.

"there's an outstation branch..."

_

the case ends unceremoniously. there are no paparazzi waiting for you outside the courtroom, ready to capture your life's first win. there are no cameras flashing on you, no historic moments being documented, no crowds gathering to celebrate this win for the masses.

there's just seola's happy tears and a wildly beautiful feeling of victory in your heart as realisation ultimately sinks in for you. it's a clean win- the evidence showing unmatched proof of orders coming from KNT to mr hwang, detailing all sorts of illegal activities and even records of payments being made to mr hwang. it's really crazy how it's not been eradicated cleanly already by seungcheol. clearly, either he or his client had underestimated you.

but you'd proven them wrong.

yoona's the only who comes to see you outside the courtroom after the win. there's a bright smile on her face as she hugs you and congratulates you. seola promises that she's going to take you out on a treat right now. other colleagues from your workplace call you to congratulate you on the win.

and yet you feel empty.

seungcheol's gone. he hadn't come for the trial. he'd not been in the courtroom for the final statements, his aide quoting something about a family emergency. he'd run with his tail between his legs, ashamed of his failure and finally realising his stupidity. this thought should be giving you satisfaction, but surprisingly, it doesn't. it leaves you feeling empty, still wanting something even though you've won the case just now.

but there's no way to reach out to him. you don't even have his number for god's sake, and it would be awfully awkward to go to his house. and what would you say? that you missed seeing his sad face in court when the verdict was announced? that you wanted to see if he'd be proud of you for winning the case? that you wanted to impress him by beating him in the case cleanly without any dirty tricks? so you go to eat out with yoona and seola, and decide to stop thinking about seungcheol any further.

_

it's about seven in the evening when you make it back to your tiny flat in a shabby part of town, the house dark as you'd left it in the morning after rushing home from seungcheol's place. you smile to yourself when you unlock your home using the password on the door, thinking of how you'd been with seungcheol's adorable daughters last night, and how much fun you'd had with them.

your bag falls from your hand as you open the door.

"seungcheol?!" your voice is a shaky whisper, shocked to see him inside your house. "how the fuck did you get in?"

he's still wearing the suit he'd worn in the morning, and yet he looks divine in the dim reflection of lights from the world outside the window.

"your password's your birthday. got it on my first try."

"and how do you know my birthday?"

he takes a step closer, his body towering over yours. "shhh. it's called knowing your opponent."

there's something so oddly intimate about seeing him in your flat, in the shadows of your home. the street light illuminates one side of his face, and you can't breathe because of how gorgeous he looks.

"why do you know my birthday, seungcheol? really it's not going to help you in any way-"

"it did help me get into your house."

you lightly pick up the bag from on the floor next to you, and you walk past him. "which brings me back to the first question. why are you here?"

you're purposely avoiding his gaze, the intensity making you feel things. there's a plethora of emotions in your heart right now- finally the emptiness in your heart dissipates as you can feel yourself surrounded by seungcheol. you're taking off your blazer, untying your hair, walking over to the sink to wash your face... but you can't ignore the way you can feel seungcheol's eyes on your back. his heady scent clouds your senses, and you feel weak in your limbs. first he's intruding your house, and now your heart too?

"i have a question to ask you." he speaks after a long time, when you've finally cleaned up and taken out a cup of strawberry yoghurt from the refridgerator.

"you could've asked me on the phone." you lean back on a wall, putting yourself as far away from seungcheol as possible in your tiny flat. he's in the darkness, you're in the light, but you're still feeling small and vulnerable under his gaze.

"i couldn't. it's serious." he starts walking towards you.

"seungcheol, if this is about me trying to expose your shit, i'm not going t-" seungcheol puts his hand on your lips, pushing you against the wall.

"fuck that. this isn't about that."

you cock your eyebrow, mumbling against his hand, "then what is it about?"

seungcheol doesn't answer at once, his gaze continuing to pin you against the wall, and a hand comes around you to trap you between his bigger body and the wall. "seungcheol?"

"answer me honestly, okay?" his voice is raw, slightly wobbly, and you're getting more and more curious. you nod slowly, encouraging him to say whatever's on his mind. but he doesn't say anything. a few minutes pass just like that- or maybe an hour. his scent makes you dizzy, you can't think of anything but how his big figure is over you totally.

"when you said you looked up to me in college... i know i ruined that image. b- but... can you... fuck. wait. canyoueverforgiveme?"

"what?" you ask, confused at what he just said. he removes the hand from your mouth, standing even closer than before.

"can you ever forgive me? will you let me show you a better side of me? can i ever get in your good books again?"

your breath stops for a second. why does this matter for him? doesn't he already know the state he's left your heart in since last night- ever since he'd brought you into his car, he's already been promoted to your ideal man again.

"show me a better side of you? what do you mean, seungcheol?"

he sighs for a second, before straightening his posture, becoming impossibly even bigger.

"will you ever see me as a man, y/n?"

your knees almost give in. the fuck is his implying? are you dreaming this? is this a fever drea-

seungcheol leans in and kisses your cheek, close enough to your lips, his breath falling on your skin, and making your body tingle. "will you let me show you myself to you like this?" on instinct, you tilt your head away to give him more access, your body shivering with the intimacy. so he kisses your cheek again, closer yet to your lips, and you turn your head slightly to capture his lips, but he moves away.

"y/n, don't leave me hanging please. i know you might find this odd... but i've come to feel things for you that i didn't even know remained in me. you're an extraordinary woman, one of a kind. in all my life, i haven't met anyone like you. not even my ex-wife. you don't know this yet but you're the ideal image of perfection i've always thought of."

then he stops talking for a second, clearly expecting an answer from you. but your mind can't form words, not with the way you have tunnel vision on his face right now, your eyes drifting to his pretty cherry lips, to his long eyelashes, to the beautifully expressive eyes you've fantasised about since your college days.

"y/n, say something please." his voice is desperate, and you break out of your daze.

"you're my ideal man too, seungcheol. you have no idea for how long." there's a blush creeping on your cheeks, but in the dim yellow lighting, you can see an identical blush rise on his cheeks too. so you lean in and finally kiss his elusive lips, feeling the taste of his chapped but pretty lips on yours, feeling the way his body steps even closer to yours, one arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you to him, and your body melts as you feel the warmth from his body. the kisses slowly grow in pace, the momentum rising, as he kisses you more and more hungrily, his tongue entering your mouth too, as he begins to bite your lips and leaves you breathless and moaning just from a few kisses.

"god, rookie. you sure know how to kiss."

"i know how to do a lot of things, seungcheol." you know you're bad at dirty talk, you've never really succeeded at it during your few college experiences of sex. but somehow, seungcheol's eyes roll back at your words and you feel his heartbeat quicken up too. maybe it's working on him?

you try to test your hypothesis by gently wrapping your hands around his neck, slowly untying his tie, slipping it to the floor. once it's off, you rub your hands all over his chest, feeling the pure hard muscle flex under your muscles. his breathing is as hot and heavy as yours, and you slowly untuck his shirt from his pants, unbuttoning it carefully.

"must you torture me like this, y/n?" his eyes are glazed over, but you look up at him innocently. "what, seungcheol?" "fuck it, you're such a tease, princess." princess. he pushes you against the wall and kisses you again, one hand wrapped around your hair as he pulls you in, and another hand helping you unbutton his shirt and get it out of the way. seungcheol doesn't stop kissing you even when he begins to unbutton your own shirt, but his hands wander all over the skin he slowly unravels. it's like his own adventure mission, the gentle but urgent way he touches your skin, almost worshipping.

"you're so perfect, y/n." you whimper when he cups your breasts from over your simple black bra that does nothing to flaunt your tits, but somehow seungcheol's appreciating it all. are you really his perfect woman?

"do you mean it, seungcheol?" your voice is so weak, but it takes seungcheol aback. "what do you mean, y/n? you don't think i find you beautiful? is that why i've been dreaming about you every night these days? is that why you're always on my mind? is that why i died and came back from heaven last night when i saw you with my kids?" your breath hitches as he tilts your face to look at him. "you're the most perfect woman i've ever met, i told you. you've gotta believe me, y/n. or do i have to show you?"

"maybe, yes?"

he groans at your words, and his eyes become darker. "fuck, where's your bedroom, babe?"

_

seungcheol's touch is like moonlight caressing the ripples of a pond at midnight. a soft, gentle touch that lights up every inch of your skin that he touches. as the moonlight kisses the water and makes it ebb and flow with it, seungcheol's movements guide your body too. he's laying you out on a bed, his hands wandering all over your skin. as he takes in your figure, you let him, because he's making you feel so good. he kisses all over your body, your limbs tangling as you can't get enough of each other. seungcheol is all muscle, his hard planes flexing against your supple skin. he pins you against the headpost of your small double size bed, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other caressing your breasts, making sure there's not even a single inch of your skin that's left untouched.

"did i tell you i think you're perfect?" his words are feverish, and leave you lost for words. so you can't reply to him, hoping he gets the way you feel about him too through your desperate whines and moans, pulling him closer if he puts even a hair's distance between your bodies. something about him being so big and engulfing your smaller stature is so hot, you can feel yourself getting aroused by the minute.

"seungcheol, i w- want to... touch you," you finally whisper out, and he pulls away from where he's been kissing your neck. "but you are?"

you shake your head and shove him lightly until he's on his back, and you're hovering above him. he's still wearing his pants while he's stripped you naked, so you do the honours for him. "what are you doing," his voice is strained. "want to touch you there," you focus on taking his trousers off until he's just in his underwear under you- his bulge quite obvious to you. if you weren't wet enough earlier, seeing the massive wet patch on his grey boxers leaves your own underwear soaked. is he this aroused because of you?

seungcheol seems to read your mind as he brings your face towards his own, whispering with hot breath, "do you see what you do to me, princess? got me wrecked and ruined." his confession is so raw, you lean in to kiss him again. as you do, your hand wraps around his clothed dick, and he groans into your mouth. "fuck fuck fuck," he curses as you begin to rub it softly. "i'm going to cum right now if you do that- babe, p-please!" he finally gets your hand off his dick, eyes large.

and then you giggle. something about seeing seungcheol so desperate triggers something off in you, makes you more determined to ruin him. so you pull off his boxers and take his erect, red cock straight into your mouth. seungcheol's body trembles with surprise, your name leaving his mouth in broken moans as he cannot take the pleasure of your mouth sucking him off in an excruciatingly slow speed. and you don't stop, even when his hand comes around the nape of your neck to keep you in place, even when you feel his entire body tense up with the imminent orgasm. you don't stop until he comes inside your mouth, spewing string after string of his hot seed, and you swallow it all. his breathing is laboured as he watches you lick off the last bits of the orgasm from his dick.

but your self-satisfaction of having the upper hand only lasts for so long. seungcheol's competitive side kicks in soon and he quickly flips over to pin you under him on the bed, his teeth nibbling at your chest, leaving pretty hickeys all over.

"let me return the favour, darling."

you don't know what he means right then by return the favour, but never in your wildest dreams, did you think it would include seungcheol burying his face into your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue laps up your wetness.

"fuck! no- seungcheol- pl-please, cheol!"

"do you want me to stop?" he asks you, his face barely moving up inches from your pussy to look into your eyes.

you hesitate before answering, so he softly kisses your stomach. "tell me, princess."

"i've never done this before..."

"what? sex?"

"no. oral. like no one's ever gone down on me before..."

and seungcheol doesn't waste another minute. he uses his teeth to push aside your panties and inserts his tongue right into your sloppy cunt, and you scream out his name. he doesn't go slow, and you don't want him to go slow. he's showing you all the stars in the sky, so you grab onto his hair to move his head back to a particularly good spot, and he moans incoherently when you tug at his locks. and within minutes, you're reaching your high, your screams getting stuck in your throat as you close your eyes and arch your back off the bed.

thankfully, seungcheol gets his face out of your cunt and hovers over you to take in your writhing figure under the impact of the orgasm.

"so how was your first experience?" he asks you when you finally open your eyes and look at him, his lips smeared with your essence and his body.

"heavenly," you whisper, before pulling him into you, and kissing him again. you can get drunk on his kisses. he's leaving your lips abused and raw, but when he's spitting into your mouth, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer, feeling the toughness of his back muscles shift under your touch. this position ends up making his cock graze against your clit, and you jerk in overstimulation. but you can feel how hard he's getting with the kissing and the way your hands are tugging his hair. the heavy length rests on your stomach, and seungcheol pulls away.

"need to be inside you now, princess." his words have this rawness to them- long gone is the smooth-talker lawyer choi seungcheol. it takes several moments for you to process that you've caused him to descend to this desperation.

"do you have a condom?" he asks you.

"hmm, i do." you point towards the dresser next to your bed, and he casually bends away to take it out from the dresser. you're getting more turned on by his easy flexibility, and as soon as he's got the condom rolled on to his dick, you pull him for kisses again.

"patience, baby," he laughs, as he pulls away again after kissing you, to nudge the tip of his dick on your folds. "nooo, need you now. need your lips." "did my kisses break you?" "i think so," your voice is a whisper and he leans in to kiss you again, a beautiful smile showing off his dimples.

and then he's slowly pushing inside you, making you whine out his name as you feel him stretch you. it's not an easy fit, but his kisses make the pain easier to bear. when a tear escapes your eyes, he asks you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, "is it very painful?" "not very but it's been a while." he leaves kisses on your hairline. "i'll be gentle, princess."

you grip his locks tighter, pulling his face away to make eye contact.

"you better not dare, choi seungcheol."

something breaks in him. his hips begin to move faster, as he pushes your hands above your head, holding them as if handcuffed, and he's biting hickeys all over your neck. he's thrusting harder now, and your second-hand bed is already making noises. but it seems to arouse you more for some reason. something about him shaking everything around you and moulding you and everything about you to him makes you want him more.

you can't stop moaning his name, as he whispers into your ear, "i can feel how close you are baby. can feel your cunt clenching around me." "pl-please, cheol. need you more, please!" "more? faster?" you nod feverishly, and he pulls away, biting his bottom lip in concentration, one hand gripping the bed, and the other your leg around his waist, as he fucks into you.

you take in his full form, towering over you like adonis. beads of sweat falling down his pecs and his hair falling into his eyes. the sight is so beautiful that you cum right then, even as seungcheol fucks you through the orgasm.

you can feel that he's close, his dick twitching inside you, as he's making your eyes roll back. even after one orgasm, he keeps fucking you. "give me one more, baby. cum with me." and then he shifts one hand to rub your clit, and you moan under the additional touch. the last straw is when you clench around him so hard that he lets out a strangled moan and reaches his climax too. you can feel the condom become warmer, and you tremble all over as you cum again because of that sensation.

when your eyes open again, seungcheol's pulled out from you, but he sneakily lets in a finger in between your folds and licks it clean.

"seungcheol?" your broken whisper makes him look up at you.

he smirks. "you taste like nectar, baby."

_

seungcheol's insomnia doesn't let him get a full night's sleep on most nights. if he's lucky, he'll sleep for four hours at once, dreamless rest that leaves him fully charged for the next day. on other days, he'll stare into the night sky for hours, sleep eluding him. some nights he'll go to his daughters' room, and watch them sleep, his heart filling up with a warmth that's comforting like chicken soup. on other nights, he'll open his laptop, put on his glasses and finish his case files.

everyone wonders how seungcheol is so efficient at his profession. only he knows why.

but ever since you've come into his life, everything's changed.

he can no longer focus on work. he's distracted, making silly typing errors and forgetting details. but he's sleeping the best ever in a long time. he doesn't remember when was the last time he'd slept this well. it must've been before the fights had started with his ex-wife.

today, seungcheol sleeps for eight hours straight.

and he knows why.

it's because he's wrapped around you, your body melting into his under the duvet. your head's resting on his arm, but his arm doesn't hurt at all. your hair shines with the sunlight streaming in through the gaps between the curtains, but you sleep through the slight pouring into your eyes. you look particularly angelic today morning, and he feels his entire being shiver with the new-found affection for you.

you're his.

finally.

well, hopefully.

jeonghan had told him yesterday when he'd told him about his feelings for you, you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot.

and oh, he had shot his shot. shot it too fast in fact. the clarity of the morning makes him suddenly worry if going straight into your bed last night had been too quick and you'll think poorly of him now. then there's the worry about you going to sleep without eating dinner last night- what if you wake up angry? another worry crops in his head as he realises it's a saturday. he doesn't have to go to work today, but you might have to. what if you get upset at him for not waking you up on time? the warm, glorious light in seungcheol's heart dims slightly as he realises you have so many reasons to turn him down.

so he lightly shakes you, whispering your name in your ear, until he feels you whisper out a soft five minutes. it makes his heart melt again, but he's more worried about you missing a work day.

"wake up, princess, you're going to be late."

as if hearing a magic word, you jolt awake, staring right into his eyes.

"late?! what's the time? fuck, it's nine-thirty!"

"it's saturday though. do you have work today?"

and then you fall back on his arm with a huff.

"saturday! of course i don't have work today. why did you wake me up!" you whine and turn around so that you're now snuggled into seungcheol's bare chest, your hair only slightly tickling him. the warm light in his heart shines bright again as he feels you cling to him.

"i didn't know if you work on saturday or not." seungcheol leaves a kiss in your hair, and you let out a satisfied sigh.

"now you know. never forget, okay? never wake me up on weekends."

never forget.

"i won't." another kiss in your hair. another sigh that makes his chest buzz. another kiss. and then you open one eye to peer at him, and he smiles at your cuteness. so there's another kiss, and then another, and then-

"stop!" you move out of his arms, giggling, your eyes finally open.

"i can't. you're too cute."

"shhhh!" you lean in to kiss him on the mouth, a gentle peck, and seungcheol takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arms again. "don't go far away." he's more serious that his tone implies, but somehow you realise that too. so you snuggle in closer, your head almost on his chest now. "i won't."

after a few long minutes of you being still in his arms, and him smelling your scent through your hair, you finally shuffle and pull him down so that his head is now resting on the pillow and you're resting your head on your palm, perched on the pillow using your elbow as support, looking down at him with clear fondness in your eyes.

"you're very romantic today, mr choi."

"do you not like it?"

"no. on the contrary, i love it."

at your words, he smiles, and you let out a fake gasp. "the rabbit has dimples!" and you attack his face with kisses, leaving him giggly and blushing as you smother him with love.

when you're finally done, he pulls your face in for a kiss and then you go back to your position to look at him from above.

"come lie down next to me."

"no this view is prettier."

seungcheol scoffs, hiding the way his heart is racing with your words. it's been years since anything barely romantic- a few dates here and there. but this is teenage seungcheol again, falling head over heels for a girl with a pretty smile and a cute way of speaking her mind.

"this view is the prettiest," he says and he's rewarded with your pretty smile again. so he spends a minute staring at the view, taking in your beauty.

you've not been turned down until you've been turned down. so shoot your shot. somehow jeonghan's nagging voice comes up in his head again and makes him remember that he's yet to ask you properly.

so he counts to three and says it.

"i like you, y/n. a lot. as i told you last night."

a strawberry latte blush taints your cheeks.

"and as i told you last night, you're pretty much my dream man, seungcheol. i've been crushing on you since my freshman year."

well that was easy.

"that long?" seungcheol feels his confidence cruise back, a smirk on his lips.

"don't laugh at me."

"i'm not. it's just unbelievable that you liked me back then. i wasn't even well off back then."

"who even cares about that! you were confident, manly, intelligent and passionate about your work. and so, so handsome. how could anyone not like you?"

"am i not handsome now?"

"of course you are, silly. that's why i still like you." you roll your eyes, as if it's so obvious. "i couldn't even date guys for a long time because i kept comparing them to you in my mind."

seungcheol's eyes go wide. "wait, really? that's kinda sad."

you laugh. "maybe, but who cares? none of them were nice in the end. that's why i kept going back to crushing on you." you lean in to kiss the mole on his cheek.

"how long has it been since your last relationship?"

"hmmm, about seven months? broke up before i graduated."

"and sex?" he hopes you can't see the way he's holding back his breath as you answer. "about a year."

and then he lets out his breath.

"and you?" you ask him, running your fingers through his hair.

he hesitates before replying. "nine years," his voice is weak.

and then you do what he's been fearing for so long.

you laugh.

"wow. that's like... that is long." but your expression changes into a serious one soon. "but you haven't lost any of your technique yet. so it's a win in my books. i don't even have to be jealous of anyone else. who was your last lucky lady?"

"my ex-wife." seungcheol winces as he mentally prepares himself for all the reasons you might turn him down.

but you don't. your serious expression remains even as you're surprised. "you were married? is she the mother of sol and byul?"

"yeah."

you nod your head slowly, digesting the information. after a second you say, "i can't fathom why anyone would leave you and your two perfect little girls."

seungcheol's smile turns bitter. "she did. but it doesn't matter. she's found a better life now, after moving away to the US with her new husband. and i've found a better life too, moving away from her."

you nod again. "you're very brave, cheol." and you kiss his cheek again, and seungcheol's heart swells at how maturely you've handled this conversation. but there's yet more reasons for you to reject him.

when you pull away to look at him again, you softly ask him, "are your daughters okay with the idea of you dating again?" dating. there are tingles all over seungcheol's body as you finally quash all worries from his mind. "i haven't explicitly discussed this with them," he says with some hesitation. "that being said, i think they like you a lot. you made a very strong first impression. and trust me, for ten year olds as stubborn as mine, a first impression is all that matters."

"they're just like you," you giggle, your hand fondly cupping his cheek. "but seriously. they like me as a friend... as your colleague. what if they don't like me as your... girlfriend?"

girlfriend. seungcheol wants to flip you down on the bed and make love to you all over again, but he resists his urge. he settles for wrapping his hand around your hips and caressing them. "they'll love you, princess. they've longed for a mother figure for long enough." after a pause he says, "i'm worried they'll not see you as a mother figure but as a sister."

you burst out laughing. "what?!"

"i'm much older than you, y/n."

"so?"

"i'm thirty-six, y/n."

"that's not old. i'm twenty-three."

seungcheol chokes on his own words. "exactly. i'm literally old enough to be your father, y/n."

"well, you'd have to become a father really really early then," you say, laughing.

"y/n, be serious."

"i am being serious. i've met men who're twenty but act like they're forty. what really matters is what you've got here-" and you poke at his chest where his heart's supposed to be.

"i'm going to die thirteen years before you!"

"darling, i don't think that's how death works."

darling. seungcheol's heart hammers against his chest as he pulls you in for a deep kiss. and then you pull away from him. "you're a dilf, seungcheol. that's like 80% of why i'm attracted to you. bet i wouldn't be attracted to twenty-three year old you." there's a teasing glint in your eyes, but seungcheol still whines as he feels upset at your teasing words. "babyyyy!" you laugh at his deepening pout, and lean in to kiss his pout in a peck, before getting out of bed.

seungcheol's mouth falls open as he takes in your soft curves which look even more alluring in the daylight. something about the way your ass sways as you walk makes his dick twitch in interest, but seungcheol curses himself. he can't be thirty-six and this hormonal, for fucks' sake.

you open the closet door to pull out a loose t-shirt and shorts, wearing them without any underwear. "do you want to stay for breakfast?"

a lazy grin spreads on seungcheol's face as he stretches his body in bed, relishing the way you ogle his stretching biceps, and he casually pushes the blanket away from his hips to reveal his toned stomach to you too.

"i want to stay for the rest of my life, rookie."

he's left with no doubt of reciprocation of his feeling as he sees the blush on your face as you hide and run from him at his cheesy words.

[nothorses]

This is a genuine ask and I hope it doesn't come off as rude, obviously people can do whatever they want forever, but what is the logic behind a lesbian dating a transgender man? (By lesbian I mean someone who is only attracted to women), wouldn't that exclude binary trans men then since trans men are men? Or is it like "Trans men can be lesbians because they have vaginas" which just feels like bioessentialism with progressive wording...

I think the core misunderstanding here might be in your use of the word "logic". And there's a super high chance I'm extrapolating more intention than you put into that word choice, but hear me out.

On a super basic level, I think it's important to understand the reasons people use words like "lesbian" and "trans man" in the first place. In certain contexts, it makes sense to assign these terms more rigid definitions: a study would likely have a single, clear definition for those words in order to talk about some research results. An academic essay might need a shared definition if they're talking about broad trends and systemic issues.

But when we're talking about an individual's choice of identity labels- the words they use to describe their own personal experiences and relationship to gender and orientation- it doesn't make as much sense to apply someone else's definition of those words to that individual's use of them. They're trying to describe their own internal world to you; what matters in that conversation is how they understand the words they use, and why they chose them.

Don't get me wrong: common understandings of a word can play a part in that conversation! My understanding of what "gay trans man" means has been shaped almost entirely by other people. I chose those words for myself because of what I think most people will understand them to mean. In twenty years, it's possible that the common understandings of those words could change, and I might use different words to better communicate the same internal experience.

But I also might not. I might decide that my personal connection to those words is more important to me, or even that saying I'm a "gay trans man", as a person 20 years older than I am now, better reflects my internal experience as one that was shaped by the time I came to understand myself in. Maybe it'll be important to me to communicate that I understand myself as a "gay trans man" because of what those words meant 20 years ago. Maybe it'll be important to me to ask tomorrow's queer people to learn about my context, and my story, in order to really understand me.

And maybe, when I fill out a survey for a queer study in 20 years, I'll read the definitions they use for all of these identity labels and categorize myself accordingly, even though I don't personally identify with those definitions or words.

So yeah, I could talk about all the reasons someone might identify as a "lesbian" and still be attracted to trans men. I could talk about trans men who still call themselves "lesbians" because of what the words meant 20 or 40 years ago, or some unique definition they heard in one place and decided they liked enough to keep, even though nobody else has even heard it. I could talk about lesbians whose partners turn out to be trans men, and who still feel attracted to them afterwards; whose partners are okay with, or even feel validated by, their lesbian partners still calling themselves "lesbians". I could talk about nonbinary trans men, and bigender or multigender trans men, who are women and/or lesbians as much as they are trans men. I could talk about bi and pan lesbians, who may find themselves attracted to one trans man or a handful of men- trans and cis both- but otherwise mostly experience attraction to women.

But like, the point shouldn't be to find a good enough reason to justify it. The point isn't the "logic". The point is to understand that everyone's internal experience is fundamentally different from yours, and to be curious about each individual.

It's great that you asked this question in sincerity, but I'm the wrong person to be asking.

When someone says they're a lesbian who's attracted to trans men, they're trying to share something about themselves with you! That is a precious, unique thing you are being entrusted with. Get curious! Ask them what those words mean to them, and take the opportunity to get to know them better. Learn their story! Connect!

I can't tell you that person's story any more than you can guess it on your own, no matter how much you try to logic it out. That's exciting! The world is big, and it's full of unique stories and perspectives you couldn't even dream of inventing! That's so much better than a logic puzzle, don't you think?

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Dick, and Jason reacting to his gn crush told him that they know his secret identity so he would let them bandage his wounds?

Dick

‘You knew?’ Dick said as he sat himself down on your bed, his face covered in bandaids as his arms covered with bandages, dressed in comfortable clothing after a long struggle due to his injuries. ‘How?’

‘There were signs that I ignored or didn’t think to look too deeply in until I did, just for everything to come together and realising that my initial assumptions were close to being right.’ You shrugged as you sat down next to him, looking him over to make sure that you had managed to patch up every possible injury he had, hoping he wasn’t hiding one without your knowledge.

‘That or maybe you just wanted an excuse to patch up my wounds. Or seeing me shirtless as I’m patching up my wounds, one or the other.’ Dick teased but couldn’t help but think of all the possible danger you were now going to be in due to knowing who Nightwing was, and while he wasn’t ready to admit to everything he does as nightwing to you, he knew that if he didn’t then you wound find a way to figure it out on your own somehow.

‘Maybe.’ You said, trying to hide your feelings of sheepishness from him. ‘That or the fact that I know you well enough to see through that domino mask of yours, something that doesn’t do much to hide the more easily recognisable features.’ You add as Dick then sighs.

‘You shouldn’t know this, you really shouldn’t.’ He tells you as he reaches for your hand, squeezing it. ‘I know you were smart enough to connect the dots but I don’t think it would happen so soon. I just wish you would’ve stayed naïve to it for a little while longer, just until I was ready and felt that it was safe enough to say something.’ He looks you in the eyes where you could see his conflicting emotions there. ‘I just wanted to keep you safe from all this, but I failed at that too.’

‘Life doesn’t work the way we always want it to.’ You began, squeezed his hand back in reassurance, ‘I know that from this point onward it won’t be easy for either of us, I’ll have a target on my back but I have made peace with that fact-‘

‘Well I haven’t.’ Dick interrupts. ‘You could be in danger because of me,’ he then uses his free hand to hold your cheek, ‘how am I meant to be okay with this knowing that I might not be able to save you.’

You smiled at him and leaned into his touch, careful of his injuries. ‘You’ll always save me, you’re Nightwing.’ You tell him before giving him a light, reassuring kiss on the forehead.

Jason

‘I’m telling you baby bird I tripped.’ Jason said for what felt like the fifth time that night as you continued to pester him about the gash on his arm.

‘Or you were out being Red hood and gotten hurt protecting some kids from Crime Alley.’ You replied casually as Jason stiffened, now looking at you surprised.

‘Why would you assume i’m him?’ He asked, watching you closely as the fear of the consequences this knowledge would bring, especially when it was someone close to his heart knowing his -now not so- secret identity.

‘You come back with injuries more severe than just tripping over thin air.’ You told him as you held his cheek. ‘That and I may or may not have seen firearms left lying about whenever I visit and thought nothing of it, only to do some research and have come to find that those are the same exact firearms Red hood has.’ You add as Jason internally curses himself for getting too comfortable with leaving his stuff out in the open so carelessly.

Fatigue be damned.

‘Okay you’ve figured me out, congratulations, but you really shouldn’t know that I’m Red hood, I’m not exactly well liked.’ He warns you, not wanting you to get hurt because of him, if you did he wouldn’t forgive himself for as long as he lived.

Loosing you wasn’t worth keeping his secret identity under lock and key. He’d gladly expose himself if it meant keeping you away from harm, but until then he knew that he’d have to keep close tabs on you whenever he could.

Or he could train you in self defence while still watching over you regardless.

‘I know.’ You tell him as you patched up the wound on his arm. ‘But when am I allowed to worry of over for doing something reckless.’

‘I was trained for this lifestyle sweetheart.’ Jason reminded you. ‘I’m more attuned to fighting crime and getting hurt doing so, it’s not a big deal.’

‘It’s a big deal to me.’ You spat, blinking back tears, ‘ I don’t want to see you come home with wounds worse then the last, worried to death that I might loose you.’ You add as you began to cover up the wound on his arm with a gauze before moving onto to adding the bandage securely.

‘Well I don’t want to loose you either.’ Jason said as he lifted his free hand to wipe away the tears that manage to fall from your cheek. ‘My identity is not worth your life baby bird. Not in the slightest. I won’t risk you, you’re too important to me to lose over this.’

‘More important than Red hood?’ You asked, not wanting to ruin the moment between you two.

‘So much more than you’ll ever know.’ Jason replied without hesitation.

[edenfenixblogs]

Let’s put some numbers to Jewish fear right now.

In news that I’m sure will thrill all antisemites, it would take startlingly little effort to foment widespread violence against us and cause another genocide of the Jewish people.

I have had many fellow Jews express to me how overwhelming it is to see the rising antisemitism. I have seen many Jews express fear at being drowned out of public, online, and IRL spaces due to dangerously violent vitriol.

I have also seen people who claim to advocate for Palestine—especially western leftists—openly mock Jews who express this fear.

Finally, I and my fellow Jews have often expressed that, while we wholeheartedly support Palestinian freedom and self determination, it is exhausting to have to say so repeatedly, especially when we are trying to advocate for ourselves. This is not due to any latent or widespread hatred of Muslims, Arabs, or Palestinians. It is because we are an extremely maligned and marginalized minority that is fighting to be heard against strong, hostile forces that at best wish we’d shut up and at worst want us eradicated from the planet.

There is a disconnect about how much harm people can do to Jews by spreading antisemitism and refusing to dismantle their own internalized antisemitism—and everyone has internalized antisemitism. It is one of the oldest forms of prejudice in the world and is found in almost every single culture. It is as, if not more, pervasive than white privilege. Yes. You read that right. And if asked to elaborate, I will provide numbers on that to the best of my ability. For the purposes of this post, however, I want to focus on the global distribution of religious groups only.

Specifically, this disconnect is between Jews who are fully aware and feel the affects of this damage and goyim who simply do not comprehend our marginalization.

To help, let’s put some numbers to this. In this post, I’ll be using the Pew Research Center’s survey and findings on the Global Religious Landscape. This is the most recent data from a reputable source that I could find which surveyed every world religion at the same time. While the Jewish population has grown slightly in the intervening years, so have most (if not all) other religious populations around the globe. I wanted to use figures measured at the same time to avoid bias for or against any religious group.

For the purposes of this post, I will not be discussing folk religions or other religions. This is not because they are not important. This is because they are not a monolith and individual folk religions and other religions may have even fewer adherents per religion than Judaism. I am currently only focusing on religions and religious groups who have more adherents than Judaism.

In descending order of adherents, there number of people in the world belonging to these groups:

2,200,000,000 (2.2 Billion) Christians

1,600,000,000 (1.6 Billion) Muslims

1,100,000,000 (1.1 Billion) Religiously unaffiliated people

1,000,000,000 (1 Billion) Hindus

500,000,000 (500 Million) Buddhists

14,000,000 (14 Million) Jews

Reduced to the simplest fractions there are:

1100 Christians for every 7 Jews

800 Muslims for every 7 Jews

550 Religiously unaffiliated people for every 7 Jews

500 Hindus for every 7 Jews

250 Buddhists for every 7 Jews

Combined, there are 6,400,000,000 non-Jewish people in religions or religious groups (including religiously unaffiliated people).

This means that for every 7 Jews there are 3200 people in religious groups who outnumber us.

Jews are 0.2 % of the global population.

When we tell you that hate is dangerous, it is because…

It would only take 0.21% of 6.4 Billion people to hate us in order to completely overwhelm and outnumber every single Jewish person on the planet. In other words, only 67.2 out of every 3200 people.

And given how violent and aggressive people have become toward us in recent weeks, that doesn’t seem far off.

No, most Christians, Muslims, Atheists/Agnostics, Hindus, and Buddhists do NOT hate Jews.

But if even 0.21% of them do hate us, Jews are at a legitimate and terrifying risk of ethnic cleansing and genocide.

It is not possible for Jews alone to fight this rising tide of hate. There simply aren’t enough of us. And many of us are too scared to tell you the truth: if you don’t vocally and repeatedly stand up for Jews (and not just the ones you agree with) you will be complicit in the genocide that follows. Police your own communities.

Nobody acting in good faith is asking you to abandon Palestinians or their fight for self determination and equality in their homeland. All we are asking is for you to learn about antisemitism, deconstruct it in yourself, and loudly condemn it when it occurs in front of you. We are asking you to comfort us and not run away when we are scared or even angry at you. Because a lot of us are angry with you, because we are extremely scared right now and many of you are not helping us. Many of you are actively and carelessly spreading dogwhistles that further the global rise in hatred against us.

You can support Palestine AND avoid Islamophobia WITHOUT making antisemitism worse. But you can’t stop antisemitism by staying silent in the face of it. And if you don’t speak up, you will get us killed. Silence, in this case, is quite literally violence.

Many of us have armed guards posted at our synagogues and schools and community centers because of this. I certainly had times where my synagogue and school had to have armed security for our safety.

The only reason more of us haven’t died already is because we have millennia of experience in confronting this kind of hatred and guarding against it.

But in pure numbers, if you don’t speak up for us now, we don’t have a chance at survival without support.

So, what can you do, specifically?:

* Make a stand or public statement about condemning antisemitism without mentioning another group. Acknowledge Jewish fear, pain, and current danger without contextualizing it in someone else’s. It could literally be something as simple as “Antisemitism is bad. There’s never a reason for it. I won’t tolerate it in presence in real life or online.” If you cannot bring yourself to publicly make this statement, you should have a serious look at yourself to understand why you can’t.

* Learn about the six universal features of antisemitism and the many, various dog whistles affecting the global Jewish community

* Do not welcome people who espouse rhetoric that includes any features from the above bullet point in your community unless you are able to educate them and eliminate that behavior.

* Check in on your Jewish friends, regularly and repeatedly. Do not wait for them to reach out to you. They are scared of you. Even if you don’t have the emotional space to have conversations about antisemitism. Just send a message once in a while, unprompted, “Jfyi, antisemitism still sucks. I support you.”

* Redirect conversations about which “side” is “right” to how to attain peace. Do this by saying that this line of argument is not conducive to peace, and link to a well-respected organization not widely accused of either antisemitism or Islamophobia that is devoted to achieving a peaceful resolution, increasing education, or providing humanitarian aid to relevant affected groups—including Jews, Israelis, Palestinians, Muslims, and Arabs. You can find over 160 such organizations at the Alliance for Middle East Peace https://www.allmep.org/

* Look to support experienced groups without widespread and verifiable claims of prejudice against either Jews or Muslims or Arabs or Palestinians. Many of these organizations can also be found at the AllMEP link above. Avoid groups on the shit list as well as unproductive and harmful movements.

* Do not default to western methods of political demonstration. Specifically, protests are not useful in attaining peace in western nations at this time. Israelis and Palestinians can and should protest to the best of their abilities in Israel and Palestine so as to pressure their own governments. However, protests in western nations have proven to be poorly regulated and to further the spread of bigoted rhetoric and violence against Jews, Muslims, Arabs, and Palestinians. Furthermore, there are nearly as many Palestinians in the world as there are Jews. It is extremely easy and common for the voices of bad actors and bigots on all sides to completely drown out Jewish and Palestinian voices and concerns at these events.

* Spend more time listening and learning than speaking and acting. Anyone who tells you this conflict is simple is someone who is lying to you. Take the time to learn the ways in which your actions and words can get people hurt before joining the fray.

* Stop demonizing Zionism as a concept, even if you disagree with it. Understand that it is a philosophy with many different movements that often conflict with each other. The Zionism practiced by Netanyahu and the Likud party is NOT representative of most Zionists or interpretations of Zionism. It is an extremist form of Zionism known as Revisionist Zionism.

* Don’t deny Jewish indigeneity to the levant. It doesn’t help Palestine and hurts Jews by erasing our physical and cultural history as well as erasing the Jews who remained in Israel even through widespread diaspora.

* KEEP THE HOLOCAUST OUT OF YOUR MOUTH

Things That Are Always OK

* Denouncing Antisemitism loudly and publicly

* Denouncing Islamophobia loudly and publicly

* Telling your Jewish and Muslim and Arab friends you support them and won't abandon them

* Elevating the work of respected, widely accepted people and organizations devoted to attaining peace for all, rather than just one group of people.

* Develop media literacy

* Understand what aspects of the current western leftist movements Jews are criticizing, rather than assuming our criticisms are motivated by hatred for Palestine or Palestinians.

* Expressing sorrow for civilian deaths regardless of religion or nationality.

* When you are not Jewish and you share a post about antisemitism from a Jewish person, please say you’re a goy. This isn’t because you’re not welcome to share. This is because it is indescribably comforting to know we aren’t just talking amongst ourselves and screaming into the void. Let us know you are supportive of us. It doesn’t mean that you or we hate Palestine or Palestinians or that we oppose their full and equal rights in our shared homeland.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

OKAY HELLO UH. SAVANACLAW DREAM UPDATE SPOILERS ?!?!!2!!2!2

THE. WAY BOTH JACK AND RUGGIE ADMIRE LEONA SO MYCH AND FEATURE HIM IN THEIR DREAMS 😭😭😭😭 Jack making Leona basically nOT HAVE DEPRESSION QUFBWKANDK 😭😭 and making him a fair player... Jack my boy... your dream is lovely but you made him do stuff hED NEVER DO 😭😭

AND RUGGIE. THE FACT HE AND LEONA NEVER MET IN THIS DREAM *BUT* THE AMAZING DRESM SCHOOL HE ATTENDS WAS SKGNKENAKjfkenalNIfjeksksn MADE/PROPOSED TO BE MADE (?) BY LEONA 😭😭😭 AND HE SAYS THAT PRINCE LEONA IS MORE POPULAR THAN FALENA AMONGST TYE YOUTH AJFNWKNudnekskalakdknsk tHEY WANT ME DEAD. D E A D.

and then ... ruggie says smth about him choosing the king he'll follow and LATER WHEN REFERRING TO LEONA HE SAYS SMTH TO JACK LIKE. "LET'S GO WAKE UP OUR KING" I'm fuckifnwjzbslakznaklNdkdkals akehueuqjakansksk THEY ADORE HIM SO MUCH. I CAN'T DO THIS.

So this means we'll get a full chapter ONLY for Leona's dream... I don't think we'll see him crying like Jack and Ruggie but GOD IF WE DO SEE THAT I'LL BE FOUND DEAD- i just knowwww that whichever way they go w it (the "he already knows it's a dream theory" or SMTH else), there WILL BE drama and I *WILL* die internally... my Leona plushies will pay the price (they will be hugged very tightly)

[Referencing the book 7 part 11 update!]

Me, coping: Oh, the book 7 Savanaclaw update is split into two parts? That means the first part must be dedicated to Jack and Ruggie and the second part must be Leona only. Surely this means I am free from being sniped in the Jack and Ruggie segment. Me, from the future:

. . .

ME EXPERIENCING THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF ALL AT ONCE

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT 💀💀💀 I was kind of expecting some element of respecting their dorm leader to come up (definitely for Jack's), BUT NOT THIS EXTENT OTL

Of the two, Jack's dream was the more obvious one to feature Leona in a very positive light. His admiration for the guy was clear ever since book 2, in which Jack--someone who regularly sucks at expressing his feelings--confessed MULTIPLE TIMES that it was Leona's passionate magift play on TV that inspired Jack to follow in his footsteps. And that's why he was so disappointed to learn that the guy he admired all along was a scumbag that would play dirty to get ahead. The Leona in Jack's dream might be that version that Jack had in his head... The Leona he yearns for the attention and praise of, the Leona he thought was a virtuous leader who values hard work and good sportsmanship, the kind of person who gives speeches to inspire his team and helps people up by the hand when they fall. Another reading could be that this is the Leona Jack believes is still possible if he works toward it, because this dream seems to be set a YEAR after their loss to Diasomnia. And this is Leona at his best and most dangerous because he's throwing literally everything he has into this training, so he'll probably do the same in combat; Yuu and co. have to develop a whole strategy in advance to isolate Jack because they KNOW they're going to get blasted by dream!Leona if they give any inkling of trying to wake the dreamer up. JACK LITERALLY DREAMED ABOUT LEONA THRIVING, BEING HIS BEST SELF... Jack, the self-proclaimed LONE WOLF, who claims he doesn't like GROUP ACTIVITIES/SPORTS, longs to be part of the pack that LEONA leads... But he won't follow just anyone, Jack has standards AND LEONA APPARENTLY MEETS ALL OF THEM (or, in Jack's eyes, Leona can meet those standards).

THEN WHEN JACK WAKES UP... Hoo, boy... The way he was smiling but then broke down into shouts and sobs... That's literally got to be my favorite kind of emotional distress (part of why I loved Idia's breakdown when he was introducing his newly built little brother to the Styx researchers). You can hear how betrayed he feels in his voice, all the raw emotion that didn't come through as strongly in book 2. ASKHLBLBIASDIVDAI SORRY TO DUNK ON BOOK 2 AGAIN BUT IT'S TRUE. Jack's feelings of betrayal... They were so blunted there, it felt like he was reacting to a minor setback (he seems to easily shrug off being called a traitor by the guy he supposedly admires) rather than genuinely being hurt. I'm glad that the emotional weight that wasn't addressed then is finally getting the spotlight it deserves now.

Then Ruggie's dream???? 😭 That one caught me SO off-guard. The way it opens with Yuu and co. suspecting it's Leona's dream because they arrived in Sunrise City, one of the few industrialized places in Sunset Savanna... The lore review of how it's difficult to get the people to get behind developing the land due to how it would negatively impact the nature they want to live in harmony with (plus the brand-new reveal that these disagreements can become VIOLENT)... and Idia realizing that this, THIS is why Leona actually decided to take an internship at an energy and mining lab back home--because Leona realized he cannot change the country on his own, no matter how often he butts heads with his brother. He needs even more knowledge and a team to work with him. An NPC donut vendor lady randomly drops it on us that it's thanks the PRINCE LEONA that Ivorycliff Academy was able to be established. Not only that, but turns out Leona has graduated already and has spent his time after NRC building schools and establishing magift teams for Sunset Savanna (the latter being something Leona expressed interest in, as having a national sport and/or famous sporting teams can enhance his country's soft power). AND HE'S MORE POPULAR AMONG THE YOUTH THAN FALENA IS???????? MR. LEONA I-HATE-DEALING-WITH-KIDS KINGSCHOLAR IS POPULAR WITH... THE KIDS????? ? ?? ?? ?? ? ?? ?????? ?? ? 💀 The guy who claims to only help the underclassmen because they'd otherwise be an inconvenience to him... is admired by the same underclassmen... and now that has translated over to Ruggie's dream as the youth of Sunset Savanna loving him... OTL YOU'RE KIDDING ME RIGHT/????? ? ??? ? ??v????? ? ? ????

The most bewildering detail to me about Ruggie's dream is that he and Leona haven't met at all; Ruggie acts pretty clueless when asked about it and Leona graduated from a completely different school than him (NRC). There's no way they could have met, yet the dream still deemed that Leona was an important enough aspect of Ruggie's life that he was incorporated into it... and, unlike in real life, Leona now has the influence to make these systematic changes not just for bettering Ruggie's life, but the lives of everyone in Sunset Savanna...

UUUURURUGUUGHHGHHHHHHHGHGHHHHHHH H H HH H H HHHHHHH H H H HH H H AND THEN WWHEN RUGGIE FINALLY WAKES UP AND AND ANADNANDANDANASHADSNADSNADSNAN NDDDSDD SD SM ADSB,M ADSDBSM DDD HE CALLS HE WON'T FOLLOW A "FAKE KING", HE WANTS TO CHOSOE THE KING HE FOLLOWS 😭😭😭 RUGGIE TELLS JACK THEY SHOULD GO AND WAKE UP "OUR KING"... Ruggie, who constantly complains about how easy rich people have it and how hard Leona makes him work for his coin, is standing right here and HE'S CHOOSING LEONA.

This is all so crazy to think about because back in book 6 (citing the moment that broke me Yet Again, lmao) Leona implied that while he has hope in others (like Jamil), HE DOESN'T HAVE THE SAME HOPE FOR HIMSELF. But there's literally his whole dorm who trust him to lead them and their futures as professional athletes 😭 Jack who believes Leona is capable of being that shining, ideal senpai he dreamed of... Ruggie who believes Leona can and will change not only his life for the better, but also the lives of marginalized beastmen like hyenas, the younger generation, and heck, why not their whole country too... OTL

THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORST POSSIBLE OUTDCOME FOR ME... . . . . ....... . .. . . . .. . / / / / / . . . .. . .. ... . . . ... . . YOU JAVE JACK'S DREAM SUPPLYING THE RELIABLE BIG BRO/ONII-SAN LEONA... THEN RUGIGE'S DREAM SUPPYL inG THE SMAR TDETERMINED PRINCE LEONA ... AND THEN NEXT UPDAT.E.XBBCXL V.CV . . . . . . . . ...... .. .. . . . . OTL ASCTUAL LEOPJNA DFGFAYVAFIVAVIYAIAGIGEIYGEPEIQAGfhgpaebpyrwqeg,hpgqeugqm[gqepg./l.,pjm9hmh4 gephmhurwhbaudavmudfsgnyofegnyoifui

GOD IF EW SEE THAT BITCH CRYi NG gkj eabihlaegbiaegibyegoqetpr13569 87q3tbkhl3o tyb6fOfonfOTFsugfaiugfanyoigFGION qit' S LEOVER FOR MEAMBFFVHAJVFFVEUGFO EOFAENYFEOFHdhmFSLJGADFsmf aLALLL OF HIS PENT IUP FRUSTRATIONS JUST SPILLING OIUT;V .F,DSBFAHLFLFFNODGOVSMHFAV UEGOFEAHMAEGDGSKPFSHIM THE RAGE AT MALLEUS DFN BAFVKJAFYGLAFGIDGIDGIODGSOIDN FOR FOTRICNG THIS LIE UPON HIMFDS NFASVAEFBLADFIOBY AGIOQEGONYFWmpdphGAMGobf IT'D BE SO SEXSYFDH HOT IF HE KNEW IT WAS A DREAM ALL ALONG PELEEEEEASE 🙏 I'M ONT MY HANDS NAD NDD KNEEESLSD DFS,SFHBAFLHAFDLI EO FQEYG VADGNOVSHUPVPUFFmhagyo 4wpeq/pll.,wjph9q80th9umpdbsaihoadnFSuov fsogyFSGUOFSu SNOGYAVUO FSA

.

.

. Ah-HEM!! 😇 Sorry, I don't know what overcame me... I just blacked out and when I came to I don't remember what I was doing or saying for the past several minutes 💖 Now if you'll excuse me, I am filled with an intense desire to enact violence on the nearest lion-shaped object I can get my hands on--

[cerastes]

I think some people need to hear this, so I want to say it.

The moment you start taking something seriously, that moment you decide “I’m going to improve at this, I’m going to become better at this”, you become slightly worse at it. This applies to everything: Art, games, sports, analysis, research, anything. You become slightly worse at it because you are actually thinking about it.

For most things, most people tend to run on autopilot, not particularly thinking too much and getting it over with or just enjoying it in the moment. When you really want to improve at something, though, you become slower and a bit worse at it, because now you are thinking about it, you are noticing things, you are making conscious decisions that are not as fast or as spontaneous or as natural as you just simply doing it. Now you’re performing, or attempting to.

This isn’t a bad thing.

It’s because of this period of temporary perceived weakness that we improve. That which we analyze, mull over, think hard about it, we start internalizing it, and the more we internalize something, the better we become, because that now becomes a part of our autopiloting, if that makes sense to you. Slowly but surely, that thing you really needed to focus on to do properly now just comes naturally, and now you have a much better skillset without thinking about it.

And what happens after? Since you became better, you also understand more, and can notice more things, more things that those really good at the thing do, more things that you were doing wrong all along, and can now identify it was bad and that you have to correct it, and now you have more things to think about and internalize. The cycle repeats. You become better through periods of being worse. 

It’s a cruel balance.

Ask any illustrator or writer: First comes the honeymoon period where they are improving by leaps and bounds with experimentation, thought, and exercise. Then comes the downs. “Oh I am so god damn bad at drawing”. “I can’t write to save my life”. Why? Because the artist learns, and they can see things they couldn’t before, and now they see their improvement, but they also see their flaws. It is at these crossroads where the artist will ask themselves, “do I dare go through this period of self-admonishment, or do I go back to the comfy laurels?” The comfy laurels are stagnant, they never stop blooming, but they only bloom once. The self-admonishment is a harsh self-imposed winter, but the flowers that grow after it passes bloom several times, and as the snow clears, yet another crossroad stands before you, and we go back to the same question once more.

It’s a beautiful balance.

Where I am going with this is, if you find your commitment to something has instead made it harder, has made you sluggish, has made you see perhaps too much for your own comfort: Hang in there. These are growing pains. You need these, and they aren’t wonderful to go through and good lord do they weigh heavily on you... Why? Because you care. That’s why you’ll improve. Hang in there.

It’s a necessary balance.

Hang in there. You’ll improve so much. You’ll be incredible, and then go on to agonize hundreds of times more and improve thousands of times more. Hang in there. If it was easy to improve, then there wouldn’t be merit to it. It’s hard because it matters, it’s difficult because you care. If you didn’t care, you’d be blind to hardship, but to so many beautiful things you can only experience after you’ve sought adversity. In the end, the rest follows, but only if you follow through.

Hang in there. You are getting better.

[thatfeyboy]

I need to know why it makes people so unreasonably upset to suggest that some dysphoric trans people probably should be considered intersex. Do you just. Hate trans people? Or is it because anything that makes trans physical isn't allowed?

It has been stated many many times that not all trans people have dysphoria, and not all trans people that do experience the same dysphoria. It has been harped on that gender is social and about presentation and isn't binary. Fine. But somehow when I or people like me talk about having physical and immutable dysphoria that doesn't stem from social means it's not ok. When I bring up that yes, some parts of the brain control your hormones and gonads, and yes, some parts recognize what you are and should look like, im treated like a fucking gender critical.

Why is it wrong to say that parts of the brain do in fact qualify as sex related because that's what they are for? If they dont physically square with the binary(naturally, not through intervention) then that person is not binary/intersex in their physical disposition by definition. It's not exactly a hard concept to grasp.

And because I have to, no, most aspects of the brain are not related to our bimodal sex system. There can in fact be gender/sex nuance in certain parts of the brain without claiming male and female type brains exist as a whole. Fear of some shitty crack pot idea should not prevent people from understanding scientific inquiry and research.

Being intersex does not make the trans experience more or less valid/real. But I'm tired of pretending I'm a man for reasons that absolutely don't apply to me. Nothing about my being trans has anything to do with how I want to socially be, aside as an extension of others viewing my body as I wish it to be. If there is really room in the community for all of us, then my saying that some of our experience is different shouldn't be a problem.

EDIT: Thank you for some of your responses. I would like to amend my statement slightly. When I mentioned intersex I was more trying to imply, as I lacked a better word, that it is clear some if not most trans people that experience dysphoria have a physical developmental reason for that, likely epigenetic, genetic, and pre natal conditions. This type of sense is in most people, including cis people, hence why you cannot train someone to be a gender they aren't(no desistance of gender identity in both cis and trans people regardless of treatment). If intersex is to be interpreted as things exclusively affecting external or internal primary sex traits(as to be read, physically involved in the act of procreation) that are only ever natal, then I am ok in accepting intersex is not the best fit(except for that PCOS study but not super relevant rn).

That being said, I do still believe it is a part of sex and sex/gender development and that it is a physical condition(most anatomy based dysphoria). I don't see why it being a part of sex and sex development is a problem, when it has no other answer that satisfies our actual understanding of the condition and those peoples experience. Anything based on socialization has been disproven time and time again, so when are we going to stop acting like this

[urhoneycombwitch]

howdy, honey!

part I

older!cowboy!Eddie x honey!reader

foreword: idk what this is. other than the start of a new series I may or may not have time for lmao. just… love the idea of honey!Reader and wanted to show the origins of cowboy!Eddie into their life <3 honey!Reader is a bit of an abrasive spitfire but I heart complicated women and Eddie is the right amount of gruff to put up w/ that bratty ass <3 I’m sorry if any truck stuff is wrong I swear I researched a bit but dear god I am not a car girly plz forgive me

cw: Appalachian no magic AU, cowboy!Eddie, older!Eddie, age gap (Eddie is at least 40, R implied as younger), R is on the run from a Troubled Past ™, R has breasts (non-sexual mention) and a tattoo (no skin tone/color mentioned), smut planned for following chapters, as always +18 mdni!

wc: 5.3k

The last thing you want to hear behind you approaches: a vehicle slowing down, tires crunching to crawl at your walking pace in the gravel ditch of the road. 

Maybe it’s just a concerned citizen. You soothe yourself internally, even as your guard surges up to take stock of the environment, to calculate the quickest route to safety. 

To your left- a rusting red pickup, its unknown driver, the flat expanse of tarmac and heat lines rising blearily for miles on end.

To your right, just a sprint away- the line of a lush, thick forest, unfamiliar birds calling amidst the Appalachian wilderness.

Then, an even worse sound of the truck's window being rolled down. 

“Not interested, pal,” you call out, in a tone you hope is commanding. “My thumb ain’t out. Keep driving.”

“I just-” it’s a man’s voice, because of course it is, who else would stop in the middle of an abandoned road to harass a young thing like you- “It’s about a hundred degrees out. Hotter than a two-buck pistol and you’re hiking in it.”

“Mind your damn business.” You don’t know this guy’s angle, but you don’t really care- if there’s anything you’ve learned from the past two weeks on the road, it’s Don’t trust strange men and keep your wits. 

Heart thumping an unsteady rhythm, you swallow the fear and hike your duffle bag higher onto your aching shoulder, resolute, even as the guy sighs. As if he has the right to sound weary. “Darlin’. I don’t wanna see you die of dehydration, is all. Got some water in the back, ‘least let me offload some onto you.”

The offer is tempting enough to still your steps- your canteen is empty, ran out about an hour after being filled at the last town’s hostel. Constant thirst has been an unfortunate side effect of this journey; so far it seems you've been the only one desperate enough to actually be outside in this unrelenting heat.

The man must take your pause for acceptance because he rolls to a stop just ahead of you, brake lights giving one quick flash before the engine cuts out. Both boots hit pavement at the same time, revealing a tall, lanky figure in dark denim and a cut-off tee. 

As he rounds to the trailer bed, you notice a smattering of tattoos- bats flying up one arm, a lariat and a floral piece on the other, some sort of mythological creature sitting over his heart (only spotted as he bends to unhook his truck bed’s latch, shirt shifting forward to reveal a pale expanse of skin beneath).

He’s a confusing, delightful mix of punk and cowboy- jeans just a touch too tight for working, silver hoops lining the shell of his right ear. You’d probably get a better sense of his age if his hair wasn’t hiding in a bun too shadowy to see properly, nestled under the brim of his black cowboy hat.

Eyes dark as bittersweet chocolate but kind and calm turn towards you, observing silently with crossed arms in the ditch a yard away. He closes the gap, wiping his palm on the black bandanna lining his pocket before stretching an appeasing hand towards you. “Waterin’ time.”

A laugh would signal comfortability, and you prefer to keep your cards as close to your own chest as possible, so you smother the noise, turn it into a disapproving twist of your mouth before taking his proffered hand. 

He’s stronger than he looks, pulling you up to the road with an easy flex of his forearm; his other hand automatically fits to your low back to steady you as your pack shifts with the climb, but he drops all points of contact as soon as you’re stabilized.

There’s a thunk from the nearby truck, the sound of something dull hitting into the metal. On instinct, your hand snaps to the butterfly knife tucked into the front of your bra band, hidden by the extra padding but close enough to whip out at a moment's notice. 

A dog sits eager and obedient in the truck bed, black and leggy and long-snouted- some type of Shepherd, if you had to guess. His long feathered tail hits the wheel with each enthusiastic wag, oversized ears perked forward.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. 

Adrenaline leaves you feeling sticky and strung-out, even more than the heat. Between your breasts, the knife sits waiting, metal cool to the touch and reassuring through the fabric of your tanktop. You hope it just looks like you scare easily, hand over your heart with nerves and jumpiness instead of trained defense mode- cards to chest, and all that. 

Safer for you, to be underestimated. Always harder to see a hit coming from someone unexpected. 

This time, though, you aren’t fixing to hit. The back of your hand, like some gravitational force, draws you to the mouth of the truck bed. 

A slash of pink tongue splits the all-black dog’s mouth when he licks you, thumping tailbeat picking up speed. 

The man who owns both truck and dog leans a hip against the wheel, watching as you smooth your palm over the silky head of his companion. “Name’s Goblin.”

“So, your parents were hippies, I gather?” A joke slips out before you can catch and wrestle it back to be the most unassuming version of yourself.

The man laughs- full and rich, crow’s feet bursting like sunbeams, dimples springing into his cheeks- the action knocks a decade off his face. 

You’re transfixed, unable to look away, Goblin nudging your hand for more pets while you memorize the way this stranger looks, laughing on the side of the road in the middle of goddamn nowhere. 

“The dog is Goblin,” the man says, humor twitching at the corners of his plush lips. He takes off his hat to rest against his chest, chocolate eyes still twinkling. “I’m Eddie.”

In the truck bed next to Goblin, there’s a bulky case laying sideways, a handle on one end for carrying. It’s the last push you need, apparently, as the logic part of your mind speaks with finality: Ted Bundy never played guitar. 

So you give Eddie your name. Your real one. You haven’t used it in weeks, opting for anonymity and the comfort of a pseudonym at the seedy spots you’ve been staying.

As soon as you say it, something loosens in your chest, flutters free into the bright blue sky as Eddie repeats it like something precious- like he’s known you for ages. 

“Well.” As if a matter has been settled, Eddie puts his hat back on (you weren’t quite done memorizing the long pattern of his curls, shot through with grey, pulled taut against his skull to settle in a bun at the nape of his neck). “More’n welcome to take the water and send me packin’, but now that we all know each other’s names, how about a lift to town?”

Eddie scratches Goblin behind the ear, absentminded as he adds, “Could even sit in the back, ‘f you wanted. That way you could just jump on out if you think I’m tryna pull something.”

Your shoulder suddenly aches with the weight of your duffel; you let the straps slide to the crook of your elbow, then set it next to Goblin who seems happy for something new to sniff.

Unfortunately for Eddie, you’re starting to like him, which means the filter for your sarcasm and teasing has completely eroded. “Ri-ight. Like I’m gonna just sit in the back of your truck when you could floor it and fling me over the side like a ragdoll.” 

Those big, doey eyes of Eddie’s roll skyward. “You always this stubborn?”

“Only on days that end in Y.” 

“All right.” There’s something in his tone that makes your spine straighten- not from fear, just… something else that you’re trying hard not to analyze right now. “So sit in the damn front and put a seatbelt on, since you’re so worried ‘bout my driving.”

Eddie shuts the pickup’s gate and mutters all the way to the driver’s side door, some comparison being drawn between you and one of his cows that gets herself stuck in the fenceline, refusing sesnsible help. 

The air in the cab is stale and still, warmth from the cracked leather seats soaking into the back of your shorts and bare thighs as you get in and buckle up. You’re suddenly aware of how desperately you need a shower, being in an enclosed space and next to someone with (presumably) a working sense of smell, but luckily Eddie’s already rolling down the windows.

“Air’s broke,” he says by way of apology, waving in the general direction of the AC vents before reaching to open the sliding rear window.

Something cold and wet presses against your ear- Goblin, saying hello. By the time your giggle is over, the grumble of the engine has kicked on, and the dog has found a headrest in the form of your pack, his tongue lolling into the fabric with rhythmic panting. 

“Radio?” You ask, already reaching to twist at the knob on the dash- a crackle of static, and then, bliss. Johnny Cash croons from the speakers. 

In trying to keep your delight casual, you slip up, telling Eddie as he straightens out the wheel to pick up speed- “God, I haven’t heard music this good in months, not since-”

Fortunately, whatever system in your brain still holding on to good sense chops the sentence in half. To cover, you clear your throat, cross your arms, and keep your eyes fixed forward when you change the subject. “So, you play guitar?”

If Eddie notices your lapse he doesn’t comment on it, picking up conversation with an easy charm. “Nah. That’s just a cover for if Sheriff Hop gets me for speedin’. That case is filled with coke and guns and all sorts’a contraband.”

You fix the side of his head with a glare, and even without seeing it full-on Eddie sputters a chuckle and admits, “Fine. I play guitar, sometimes.”

While Eddie’s eyes stay on on the road ahead, you let your own gaze linger on his face in profile: the slope of his nose, the freckles that scatter across the apple of his cheeks and neck, the tail end of another tattoo winding up his collarbone.

Eddie catches you staring, this time, jolt like an electric shock coursing through your whole body when you lock eyes for a moment, before he flicks back to the road. “Looks like you got some ink, yourself.”

He must be doing his best to remain respectful, because he doesn’t ask what the J stands for, even as your other hand jumps instinctually to cover the breadth of your wrist, hiding the little inked letter from view. “Yeah. I get one every time I kill a man. In remembrance.”

Amusement twitches at the corner of Eddie’s mouth when he asks, “Yeah? Only one so far? Would’a thought you’d be racking up your letters by now. Fierce as you are.”

“Well, we’re in public. I can’t very well take off my shirt to show you all the rest.”

This earns you another laugh, and even with the wind whipping through the cab, it fills every inch of the space. Rattles into you like a thunderstorm, knocks dust off some deep part of you kept dormant ‘til now.

You like that he called you that. Fierce. You’re loath to admit it, but you also like the pet names. Most boys are condescending or double-edged with their diminutives, but when Eddie calls you darlin’ with that Southern drawl, it feels… endearing. 

Equal parts terrifyingly disarming and captivatingly charming. That’s how you’d categorize Eddie, so far, though you’re not sure what to file away about his arms- stretched out at ten and two on the Ford’s big wheel, soft white underbelly of his forearms fading into a natural freckled tan, smattering of dark hair over both. 

For now, you file it under Trouble and focus on the upcoming road sign.

It looks like someone stripped a big tree and cut out a thick middle piece just to drive it at a slant into the ground. The hand-carved words appear to have been painted over many times, discolored and weathered, obscuring some of the letters.

WELC ME TO C LINE

”It’s a nice town, Celine,” Eddie says conversationally as the sign gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. “Small, but good community. Lots of farming folks, like me, some strays and stragglers, like you.”

Johnny Cash gives way to an unfamiliar folksy number; you drink in the ramshackle buildings that make up the heart of the town. It’s reminiscent of old cowboy movies you grew up watching with your brothers- flat roofs, red brick, clapboard. A hitching post outside of a General Store, a group of kids tearing around on bikes in the empty lot of the movie theater. 

All that’s missing is a lone tumbleweed flipping lazily end over end across the road.

Eddie pulls his truck parallel with a stretch of curb outside a long building, another handmade sign that reads Celine Public Library. He leaves the engine running but shifts the gear to park, pointing to the phone booth just beyond your window.

“Phone’s just there, if you got someone to call. Figure’d here’s as good a place as any, if you wanna part ways now.”

Oh, right. Eddie offered you a ride to town, and he made good on it. Now is the part where you get out, collect your duffel, and wave while pretending to make a phone call until his truck has disappeared.

But you don’t. There’s lively guitar plucking over the speakers, twining with the purr of the engine. Eddie’s hands flex and unflex on the wheel, horseshoe tattoo on the first segment of his middle finger rippling with the movement like he’s working up the courage to say something,

You’d better not stick around to hear it. Fighting the thing that’s sticking you to the seat, you reach for the door handle. “Well, thanks, Eddie. ‘Preciate the lift.”

Your fingers are just grazing the handle when Eddie speaks again. “Wait-”

Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t-

His eyes are just as beautiful as before, when he’d laughed- and now they’re on you, longing and hopeful and a little unsure as he speaks, gaining speed as if from nerves- “I’ve got a spare room. Spare shack, technically- it’s not much, but I used to live in there real comfortably ‘til my uncle moved and I got the house. Please come stay, at least for the night. Please?”

With a hand still on the door to your other, safer option, you pause; though the main emotion that washes through you is one of relief and gratitude, you sink your teeth into the little flare of irritation, pulling it up to the surface like one last play. “I don’t want charity.”

”Do I look like the church-goin’ type?” A bright flash of Eddie’s teeth as he grins (he knows he’s got you, goddammit). “And the shack door locks from the inside. Deadbolt. In case you’re worried about… I’m not askin’ anything from you. Just- please.”

Your hand drops from the door, falls limply into your lap as you breathe out. “And you’re not in some… weird, cowpoke-Satanic cult where you’re gonna use me as human sacrifice?”

“What part of deadbolt do you not get,” Eddie retorts, pleased, hand at the gear shift. “And my cult only meets on the full moon, so. You’ve got a few weeks of safety, at least.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up out of you, and the smile that Eddie fixes you with would’ve knocked you sideways had you been standing. 

You’re both relishing in the moment too deeply to notice the bicycles approaching from behind; Goblin gives an excited yip, front paws planted on the lip of the truck, wagging up a storm as the group squeals to a halt, surrounding you and Eddie on all sides. 

One of the kids, a boy with a curly mop of hair who looks on the young end of 15, slams a hand down on Eddie’s open window. “Hey!”

Eddie is the one to nearly jump out of his skin this time, hand flying to the top of his hat and cursing. “Fuck. Christ, Henderson. Whaddya want?”

“Do you require our assistance at the market this weekend?” The kid speaks in a funny, oddly formal tone as Eddie sighs and sets his hat on the seat between the two of you. 

“Unfortunately so.” 

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t be like that.” The boy is practically leaning through the window at this point with eagerness, one foot on the ground to keep his bike from tipping. You smother a giggle at the way Eddie’s jaw ticks. “School’s out, we’re bored as hell, and-”

He stops mid sentence when he spies you in the passenger seat, eyebrows jumping up to the curls covering his forehead. “And who might this be?”

“None of your damn business,” Eddie grits out, but you ignore the all-bark-no-bite tone to stretch across and offer your hand in introduction.

“I’m Dustin,” the boy says, in answer to your own name, and rapid-fire points at the various figures loitering around the truck, naming his friends too quickly for you to store them long-term. “Now, Edward, about our payment…”

There’s a girl with red braids near your window, the only one not on a bike. When you give her a friendly smile, she glowers and plants a sneakered foot on her skateboard, rocking it aimlessly up and down the asphalt. 

In the back, Goblin is basking in the attention of the rest of the group; another boy with a close-cropped Afro rubs the dog’s head lovingly, while a girl with serious brown eyes and shoulder-length curls (Eddie’s relative, maybe?) makes tentative strokes down Goblin’s side. 

There are two other kids- boys, you think- near the back of the trailer, but their backs are to the group, close as two people can be while still on their own bikes. Dustin’s conversation floats back into your comprehension- he’s making a valiant attempt at twisting Eddie’s arm where ‘payment’ is concerned.

Untwistable, Eddie shakes his head. A few strands of hair have come loose from his bun, curling around his jaw with the overdramatic move he makes to throw the gear shift into drive. “All right, enough, ya scoundrel. Round up your crew and go be a pain in someone else’s ass.”

Unperturbed, Dustin straightens, grasping his bike’s handlebars with one hand and wrapping a tight fist around the metal of the truck’s side mirror. 

This seems to be some sort of signal, because the rest of the group latches on like some choreographed play- hands, one from each kid, coming up to grip at any free space left on the truck, shoulders hunching forward as if preparing to be shot forth like a rubber band. 

“Damn kids,” Eddie grumbles, but you can hear the fondness in his voice as he lifts his foot from the brake.

The truck lurches forward, and with it, the extra wheels; Goblin’s revved-up barking joins the excited chatter and whooping of the kids hanging on, a joyous cacophony of sound as you all head further down the empty street together.

Eddie picks up speed; there’s a twinge of fear as you watch the speedometer tick up to 10- and then he honks, once, and in perfect synchronicity all the kids let go. Some of them pedal furiously to keep up the momentum, others- like the girl on the skateboard- take advantage of the added speed to simply coast.

Soon enough, their cheerful waves and laughter recede into the distance along with the rest of the town as Eddie keeps his boot on the gas.

The heat in town was dizzying, so you’re relieved when the road dips and bends into the comfort of shade- courtesy of the wild forest flanking either side. 

It’s about a ten minute drive to Munson Farms, and on the way, Eddie tells you all about it. You learn that his Uncle Wayne raised him, taught him how to work and live off the land- when Wayne retired and moved a few miles down the road, Eddie took over.

“Not really a lucrative venture, farming,” he says, trees passing in a blur as he navigates the road curves with ease. “But the end of summer Town Fair pays well, ‘specially for sheep penning demonstrations. Got a couple of dairy cows, chickens that won’t stop laying- between that ‘n Wayne’s orchards, we got more than enough to get us through the winter months.

And then there’s the hives-”

“Bees?” Unable to help the interruption, your head whips in his direction, interest piqued. 

“Yup. Got about six hives right now in the southern pasture. Don’t know much about ‘em, truthfully- got a friend named Chrissy, comes once a week or so to make sure they stay maintained. I mostly just help come harvesting time, and try to stay out of her way for the rest.”

There are about a thousand other questions you want to ask- what kind of bees? Are they near your garden plot to promote pollination? Any bears in the area?- but you tamp down your excitement, settling on a neutral, “Cool,” before looking out the window again.

The sign for Munson Farms is handmade, too, but upkept much better than the one in town- it swings gently in the breeze on metal links as Eddie turns down the adjoining dirt road. About a quarter mile in, you start to see signs of life- fence lines running through the trees and the shush of a nearby water source- and then, a house.

It’s small, probably no more than a bed, bath, and kitchen inside. There’s a red brick chimney separating the straight lines of the blue-painted wood planks, ivy crawling up one side to frame the eastern-facing window. 

On the covered porch, a big, long-haired white dog lifts its head at the sound of the truck pulling in. Goblin gives a greeting bark, practically tripping over his oversized paws to launch out of the truck even as Eddie gripes at him to “Be careful, dammit!”

As you follow Eddie out of the truck and to the porch, the white dog shambles over on a stiff back leg, ignoring the playful jumping and licking Goblin gives in favor of coming up to sniff you. 

“This is Rosie,” Eddie says, patting her greying muzzle with a gentleness that twists something in your stomach. “She’s near older than me, was a great livestock guardian ‘til her age caught up. Been trying to train up Goblin to take her place but between you ‘n me I think his head might be full of rocks.”

As if he’s aware of the insult, Goblin gives an indignant yip and paws at Eddie’s knee; he gets laughed off by the two of you, zipping away with a deep sense of importance into the nearby forest while Rosie shambles back to her cozy porch spot.

It smells incredible, here, surrounded by so many trees- you take a deep breath, inhaling the rich pines, the verdant underbrush. Just past the house, there’s a fenced-in area with various plants spilling out of raised garden beds. You can almost smell the summer strawberries and crisp veggies. 

On the other side of the fence is a plastic-sheeted greenhouse, LED lights inside making the whole thing glow artificial purple. Eddie catches you staring, then gives a wink, laying one long finger to the side of his nose. “Don’t go tellin’ the Sheriff on me and I’ll give you a joint for your troubles.”

“Deal.” Wasn’t a hard sell at all- at the rate this is going, you’re dying to get high with this man. 

Eddie grabs your pack out of the truck bed and leads you across the dirt road, pointing out the fence lines in the distance, and a barn that you can just make out through a gap in the trees. 

“Sheep, cows, horses, all that way. This way-” his hand rests between your shoulder blades, steering you towards a boot-worn path, “-is the guest shack. Beehives’ll be just down the hill from where you’re stayin’.”

He pauses, looking back over his shoulder at you- “I’ll take you to see ‘em tomorrow. Promise. I just don’t want you goin’ by yourself and getting stung to death, y’hear?”

Not for the first time today, you wish, desperately, to tell him things you shouldn’t. I was actually an apprentice beekeeper for a year, I know my way around a hive. Studied entomology and agriculture in college before I lost myself in the worst mistake of my life. You know that pesky little J I’ve got on my wrist…?

But if you start talking, you won’t stop. And besides, you’re not planning to stay here long enough for your secrets to matter.

So instead, you press your lips into a line, looking solemn, nodding in agreement until he’s satisfied and continues on. 

The dirt path leads right to the shack, and Eddie opens the door to let you in. It’s about the size of a studio apartment- wood stove and sink next to the bathroom door, twin bed draped with a thick quilt budged up under the single window. Small, but homey and clean.

As you take it in, spinning in a slow circle, Eddie sets your duffel next to the bed and runs a hand over the top of his head, haloed frizz of his hair springing back into place. “Ain’t much, I know- usually just host the town rascals; they bring their sleeping bags and fight over who gets the mattress. But the sheets are washed, and-”

“Eddie.” You stop his rambling with a hand to his arm. “Seriously, it’s great. Better than great. I was probably gonna end up sleeping on the streets tonight, and you saved me from that. So… thank you. I mean it.”

The vulnerability in your own voice catches you off guard, but you decide to lean in to it. Eddie’s been nice for no reason- or, rather, because he seems to be a kind person- and you want to make sure he hears how grateful you are for a place to stay.

He’s staring down at your hand on his bare arm, eyes clouded with something you can’t parse out; you draw your hand back, which prompts him to speak- “Shit, darlin’. It’s nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You can stay as long as you like.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insist, arms crossing over your chest, rocking back on your heels. There’s a sudden swell of panic rising like bile in your throat; this morning, you were hell-bent on leaving, and now, you think it’ll kill you not to stay.

“Listen-” Eddie’s eyes snap up at the urgency in your voice, but you manage to push through- “I know I didn’t tell you much, about where I came from, or what I did to end up…”

On my own. The words stick in your throat, tears pricking threateningly at the corners of your vision. “...out here. But I grew up on a farm. I’m used to working livestock, riding horses- I can be helpful. Can earn my keep over the weekend, at least, doing whatever you need-”

Eddie interrupts with a shake of his head, your stomach plummeting until he says, “Got enough farmhands as it is, honey. Don’t need you getting your pretty hands dirty.”

“There has to be something. I can’t cook worth a damn, but I can clean-”

“Hey.” Eddie’s tone of voice slips into a low, soothing register, like you’re a spooked animal caught in a trap. He steps closer, and when you don’t flinch, he settles his big hands on the tops of your shoulders. “Shh. It’s okay. Like I said earlier- I’m not expecting nothin’ from you. Okay?”

There’s gotta be some sort of magical effect happening, an old Celtic carving under the floorboards, maybe a witch's spell braided in with the dried herbs hanging on the far wall. You��ve never felt so looked at before, like you’ve swam beyond your depth and Eddie’s hands are a life raft.

His eyes flit around your face, taking in the expressions you’re surely flickering through before he says, quietly- “If you want, how ‘bout you stay ‘til the end of summer. Help out where you can, and come Fair time, I’ll deal you in on the profits.”

You open your mouth to argue, and smooth as butter, his right hand slips up your shoulder, tattooed fingers wrapping firm around the back of your neck, thumb tapping the pulse point under your jaw, insistent- “This way, you’ll have cash enough in your pocket to go anywhere you want. It’s a good deal and you damn well better take it.”

You wonder if he can feel the jackrabbit pulse of your heartbeat under his thumb. When you nod, he gives a dimpled smile, satisfied. “Good. Now I’ll let you settle in and get washed up for supper. Come on over to the main house when you’re ready.”

Before the door shuts behind him, Eddie adds, “And don’t get too excited. I ain’t much of a cook, neither.”

After his footsteps have retreated down the path, you collapse onto the mattress, springs squeaking. You flip to stare up at the ceiling, running your fingertips over the ghost of his touch branded against your neck, almost nauseous from elation.

A whole summer. On Eddie’s farm. With Eddie. 

After a few minutes of deep breathing, you get up to unpack your duffel, then fold your meager clothes supply neatly into the top drawer of an old oak dresser in the corner, still room enough for your canteen.

The last thing in your bag is a twine-wrapped leather pouch. Your butterfly knife makes quick work of the knots, and then, the last of your most precious things in the world are laid out on the bed. 

A certificate of completion from Indiana U’s Beekeeping Department, folded and creased but still valid, signed by your last field mentor. 

A driver’s license with your old address, square photo of a younger and more hopeful you smiling back.

And lastly, an engagement ring. Gold, with a teardrop-shaped diamond center and sparkling accent stones trailing up either side of the band. 

It twinkles when you hold it up to the evening sunbeam streaming through the window; reflective pinpricks of light scatter and dance across the quilt.

In quick succession, you slide everything back into the pouch, securing it with the drawstring before burying it inside the hidden pocket of your bag.

Then, you shove the duffel under the bed until it hits the wall, and turn away to wash up for dinner.

[mixelation]

wait okay on my hike i rotated the tori true crime podcast concept some more

okay remember when i said that tori gets popular because she's the first in her genre to go on site. what if she's not the FIRST first, but she's the first to do it in a way that actually compels people. hear me out.

despite social media and the internet existing in this AU, i want all other tech levels to be about the same as canon for a fun zany time. so traveling takes time and is fairly costly. frequent travel for videos is basically something you'd only expect from really big name influencers or "trust fund kid fucking around instead of a job" type channels. most true crime content is neither of these categories. there's a very few people who have the money, and those people are like. media companies failing to capitalize on a trend and making cringe content, or rich people who aren't also well liked. sometimes more popular names go out to film on location if they're local, but no one has quite figured out how to incorporate location beyond "i am standing in a field" or "i asked a local and they said something mildly interesting"

tori actually has no interest in traveling places for her content because she's perfectly happy doing it all from the dungeon cell she's set up a little set it, because her goal is to Present Evidence For Why She Is Right To The Internet Because Everyone Else Is Wrong. she has a very small following and they range from "i like how she sounds she's barely containing screams of rage <3 go girl internalize that shit" to "tori really sets a new bar for research. too bad she has the energy of a feral chihuahua"

however, for one case, she hits a weird hiccup where she can't remotely get access to some key evidence. there's some area that's supposed to be a popular place for missing-nin to "cache their kill kits" and this is so stupid Tori can't even find anything disproving it, other than "10 out of 10 missing-nin say that's fucking stupid." why would missing-nin be burying kill kits??? she wants to go out there and prove that's fucking bullshit

so she bites the bullet and asks obito for help. she needs both transport and a cameraman, and when she started this channel, obito was like "i love when you have fixations. it's like a fun little surprise who's going to die over them~!" which is ridiculous, because no one is going to die, but also he's not hard to convince to help her

so they get there. obito sets up camera. tori stands in a picturesque part of the this abandoned farm or whatever and starts her script. she's holding a shovel as a prop because they're going to try to dig up these so called "kill kit caches." then, abruptly, tori turns around and goes "holy shit" and the camera pans over and zooms in on what is clearly one of these missing-nin slinking around.

and then. no one on the internet will believe this until they watch it themselves. this little 5 foot tall woman flashes the camera a little ">:3c" face and turns around and walks over to the unknown ninja in attempt to interview him

(tori's >:3c is not for the camera. it's her being like "heehee let's go ruin that guy's day" to obito. no one puts this together. the face will be memed to death.)

tori actually gets pretty far into her interview, because she's capable of turning on her charm for short but highly effective bursts. yeah the missing-nin is in the area because he heard rumors a lot of missing-nin went here and maybe he'd meet people. yeah he's newly missing-nin. yeah do you want to hear his nonsensical paranoid rant about ninja politics and why he left his village? and this is the point where tori gets annoyed and slips up. she says something the missing-nin interprets as an insult, and he socks her in the face.

tori goes down, because she is indeed a squishy civilian. the missing-nin turns on obti next, but obito is in his tobi persona. he yells for help, even though he has no problem dodging the missing-nin grabbing for the camera. tori staggers back to her feet. she hits the missing-nin in the back of her head with her shovel as hard as she can.

the missing-nin goes down

tori: ???? wha--

obito: TORI-CHAN SAVED ME!!!!

tori: did you genjutsu him to not notice me :/

^ obito will edit this last line out of the video

so this part of the video is already completely batshit insane to the average ninjatube viewer, but then somehow it continues to be the most insane video on the internet. it transitions to tori squatting over the ninja's unconscious body, and she clearly has a bloody nose and is rapidly developing a black eye. she goes "don't worry, he's alive," and goes right back into her introduction script. then she goes, "let's see what the average missing-nin actually carries around on him" and then she starts pulling things off his body and narrating how he wouldn't need to bury a kill kit, because he already has one with him!

the last section is her outside again, nosebleed cleaned up but eye swollen. she gives her analysis while tobi is clearly digging holes in the background.

the rest of the video is completely tame, because later she went into town and asked about if missing-nin ever come through, and no one knows anything about that. the end.

tori knows attacking a missing-nin with a shovel is good content, but from her point of view it seems like small civilian ladies taking down rando ninja should just be a thing that happens sometimes? so she doesn't expect the video the completely explode. the top comment is "WHY DID SHE LOOT HIS CORPSE THO 😭"

tori actually hates the attention, but it's mostly about how she hit someone with a shovel and then kept talking instead of whatever the fuck people think she should have done. go to the hospital or whatever. like, excuse her, she was explaining why everyone reporting on that recent murder is wrong!!!

so, like in my previous posts, kakuzu is like "you made HOW MUCH money on that?!" and suddenly he wants a true crime segment on akatsuki extremely milquetoast youtube channel that tori's nominatively in charge but kakuzu keeps taking over in attempts to monetize it better. itachi and kisame get sent out somewhere because itachi easily has the most followers on ninja twitter but does very little to actually capitalize on that.

meanwhile, obito has just realized he can make the funniest thing happen. he suggests to tori that even if her new followers are annoying, now she has a bigger audience to listen to her! the percentage of comments telling her to wear less dark eyeliner and stop swearing is way down! what if she went and explained how correct and smart she is about this OTHER case~~~!! He will help her even!!!

so tori shows up and itachi is already on location. she is very ">:(" and marches over and talks to him. they decide to just do two different videos. they both mutually edit each other out of their videos.

itachi's video goes up first. it's not actually very good true crime content because itachi is reading the world's most bland and barebones script in a monotone. it does get a shit ton of views anyway because it is so bizarre.

then obito uploads a version of his and tori's video that tori did NOT approve, where he leaves in tori walking over to itachi and (seemingly) mouthing off to him. he leaves in a clip of her going ">:3c" at him again and throwing a piece of trash she found down a hill and at itachi. he leaves in a clip of her doing an itachi impression of explaining how HE would commit a murder.

she seems absolutely, wildly unhinged. insane woman. there's an explosion of memes. a bunch of people do video analyses to confirm she and itachi DID film there on the same day. no one understands how she is still alive. both videos get record breaking views. tori gets bonkers discourse over if she's encouraging children to harass missing-nin

tori attempts to start twitter beef with itachi and gets ratioed every time

[reasonsforhope]

"[There is] fantastic news for species conservation after new populations of the gorgeous ‘Skywalker’ gibbon, known to science for only 6 years, were recently found living in the politically chaotic nation of Myanmar.

Also called the hoolock gibbon, this dainty vocalist was first described in 2017 living in the extreme south of China on a mountain in Yunnan. Classified as Endangered by the IUCN, the population was estimated to number a paltry 150 individuals, but others were believed to live in Myanmar.

Even before the recent military junta usurped the president and plunged the country into civil war, Myanmar [was a difficult place to conduct field studies, especially extensive or ongoing ones, due to ongoing conflict.]

[Although they are] now in open revolt against the military junta, [the Myanmar states of Shan and Kachin] were nevertheless destinations for an intrepid team of scientists from the Nature Conservation Society Myanmar, Fauna & Flora International–Myanmar Programme, the IUCN’s ape specialist group, and field researchers from universities in England, China, and the US.

Together, they conducted acoustic surveys, collected non-invasive DNA sampling, and took photographs for morphological identification at six sites in Kachin State and three sites in Shan State. With the help of the Myanmar conservationists, the team also interviewed locals dwelling in rural forested areas, small conservation programs, and timber companies about the frequency of sightings and the hunting pressure.

Population estimates of unknown quality and scientific rigor conducted in 2013 suggested there might be 65,000 hoolock gibbons in Myanmar, but the matter became much more complicated after the classification of the Skywalker gibbon as a separate species from the eastern hoolock gibbon—where before they were confused as the same.

“We were able to genetically identify 44 new groups of Skywalker gibbons in Myanmar,” said senior author Tierra Smiley Evans, research faculty at the UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine, and contributing author. “This is a huge resource and success story for Myanmar.”

These gibbons sing to each other at dawn for around 22 minutes, and consume 36 different plant species; choosing fruit first, and flowers later. They seldom sleep in the same tree two nights in a row to avoid predation, and can’t swim so are often confined to territories by river systems.

The team that discovered them in China in 2017 loved Star Wars, and called them tianxing which is Chinese pinyin for “heaven movement;” a nod not only to their favorite sci-fi franchise, but also to China’s ancient history. In the famous Book of Change [aka the I Ching] of the Zhou Dynasty [1046 BCE to 265 BCE], a divination poem refers to gibbons specifically, and uses tianxing as a verb to describe their movements.

The interviews were a source of great data for the scientists. For starters, nearly all individuals in both the Kachin and Shan states could identify a Skywalker gibbon by sight and by playback of its singing, lending the exercise a good degree of reliability...

“Biologists did not believe Skywalker gibbons could live in the small remaining patches in Southern Shan State before we started this project,” Pyae Phyo Aung, executive director of Nature Conservation Society Myanmar, told the UC Davis press.

“I am delighted with our field team members who have done an excellent job, within a short period of time, building community trust for further conservation actions. This area is degraded forest. It is really important for Myanmar and China to consider extending conservation approaches for the Skywalker gibbon to this new geographic area.”

Nearly 32,000 square kilometers, or around 8 million acres of forestland in Eastern Myanmar are suitable gibbon habitat, and while existing forest reserves like Paung Taung and Mae Nei Laung are quite large, they remain unprotected. For this reason, the survey team recommended they remain considered ‘Endangered’ on the IUCN Red List until habitat protections improve."

-via Good News Network, February 21, 2024

[melanieph321]

Here we go y'all, my 200th Ruben Dias fic!!! 🎉🎉🎉

This is a 10 part series where all chapters will be available on my Wattpad, Tumblr, and Patreon for free!

Three chapters will be released weekly where my members on Patreon will have access to all three chapters right away. However, parts 1, 2, and 3 will be available for all right away!

Now...without further ado I give you:

Ruben Dias x Reader - Summer Fling Part 1/10

Part 2 Part 3

Summary - Reader has landed a research job at a marine biology lab in Portugal. She is, therefore, staying with her sister and her sister's Portuguese boyfriend for the summer holidays. There, she meets Ruben Dias, who is on vacation with his friends after the 2024 Euros. However, the two meet under the circumstances in which Ruben believes that Reader is a prostitute.

Enjoy! ☀️

Your flight from Sydney, Australia, to Faro, Portugal, took 27 hours and 35 minutes. Yet, your jet lag from that flight lasted twice as many hours, including two bottles of melatonin drops.

"Does that stuff even work?" Your sister asked, as you unwillingly got up and out of bed to endure another nightly dose. She was occupying the bathroom upon your entry, doing her makeup, preparing for yet another night out.

"I don't know Maki, you tell me." You hissed. "It says here on the bottle that this stuff is supposed to help me fall asleep, but here I am talking to you."

"Gee, Y/N. It was just a question."

"Well, no more of those. I need to get my sleep schedule back before I start work this summer."

It wasn't by choice that you applied to a Portuguese marine biology lab to do your international research. Your sister has been living in the country for three years, as another one of her schemes to piss off your parents. Moving in with her for the summer meant free housing, a blessing for a broke student like yourself.

"Relax Y/N, you're not starting work for another week. How about you take this time to enjoy your stay here in Portugal, you know, have a bit of fun?"

"And how exactly will I do that?"

"Come with us to Albufeira."

"Us?"

"Yes, Diogo and I."

Diogo was your sister's infamous boyfriend. He was infamous for the plethora of times that he had broken up with her, only to beg for her forgiveness days later. And as always, your sister would eat it up, taking Diogo back in a heartbeat.

"He's the love of my life Y/N, get over yourself. '' She said, seeing the grimace you pulled. "Besides, he's got a job that pays well, and that's all I've ever wanted in a man."

"Wow, way to be pretentious, Maki."

"I don't even know what that means. But what I do know is that you're coming with us to Albufeira."

"No. I refuse."

"Come on, Y/N. I told mom and dad that I was looking after you this summer."

"No, I told mom and dad that I was looking after YOU this summer."

She shrugged. "Same thing."

"It's really not." 

"Yes, it is. It means that we need to stick together, through thick and thin." Your sister brought up her hand, urging you to pinky swear. You rolled your eyes but did not leave her hanging. "Through thick and thin." You nodded.

"Great!" She squealed. "Now....do you own a pair of G-strings?"

"What, no. Why would you even ask me that?"

"We're going to Albufeira baby. It's basically the Ibiza of Portugal."

"Right."

"We're gonna have so much fun!"

"Yay." You sighed, longing for the ability to sleep again. 

Part 2 Part 3

[punderdome]

The Fine Print: Chapter 5

Summary: Raphael and Tav finally have their wedding night.

CW: 18+, Minors DNI.

Word Count: ~4700

Read on [AO3]

Chapter 5: The Wedding Night

Raphael led her back through the corridors towards the bedrooms.  His pace quickened eagerly, subtly urging Tav to match him.  She struck up more conversation to get him to slow down, lest they actually reach their destination.

“What would you have me do with my days as lady of the house?”  she inquired.  Raphael slowed and turned towards her.

“My darling wife, you may do as you wish with your days.  If you wish to be pampered, I shall see that you are so satisfied,” he answered quickly.  He seemed to be missing the point.

“What if I would like to continue my research?  I’m sure it would be easier to conduct from the Hells, and it would keep me out of trouble.”  Tav wasn’t sure how Raphael would respond to her request for any sort of arcane work.  He probably would prefer it if she lazed around like a prized pet, curled up in his lap while wearing only jewelry.  He has probably entertained this exact thought many times.

Raphael paused for a moment.  His gaze seemed slightly lost, as if he wanted to both agree to her proposal to get her into bed but also take time to consider the impact on himself and his pleasures.

“Well then, my dearest wife, I suggest you begin by learning proper Infernal.”  His answer was only a half answer, and she suspected it was his internal optimization for consideration of her idea and bedroom distance.

“I would like to do so, now that I am the lady of the house.” Tav insisted.  She stopped walking down the corridor and turned to face her dreaded, beloved , husband.  “A proper Infernal lady should be fluent in Devilish and Ancient Infernal, don’t you think?  I can find a tutor.”

“Only a tutor that I have approved,” Raphael asserted.

She had a question that she was too embarrassed to ask while they discussed her contract in the study before, but stalling for time is the best opportunity to ask inane questions.  Tav paused and studied his face, knowing his patience was starting to wane.  “I have a question for you,” she started gingerly, taking extremely long pauses.

“Ask.”  The frustration on Raphael’s face was rapidly expanding, as was his lust for what he knew was coming.

“I translated Astarion’s scars for him.  How bad was my translation?”  Tav had originally translated the Infernal contract on Astarion’s back months prior, explaining what the Rite of Profane Ascension entailed and what sacrifices needed to be made.  It made for grim conversation at Grymforge.

“Do you truly wish to know?” In an instant, her blood ran cold.  What had she overlooked then for Astarion and his former slave master Cazador?  

“What did I miss?” She asked Raphael, dreading what she was about to learn but leaning into the chance to understand.  

“You got many of the aspects of the Rite of Profane Ascension correct, but Astarion did not know many of the finer details.”  Raphael explained.  She nodded for him to continue.  “Your translation of Cazador’s agreement with Mephistopheles correctly deduced that he would consume all seven thousand spawn in body and submit their souls to Cania.  You had grave misunderstandings of the final powers Cazador would gain as Vampire Ascendant.  Astarion wanted to know what he stood to inherit if he were to undertake the Rite himself.”

“Astarion told me that he won a second translation from you in a round of Lanceboard at Sharess’s Caress.”  Raphael’s resulting grin was ravenous.  

“He thought you were intentionally omitting something, so he called me that very same night you provided him with your original work .”  She sighed.  She should have expected Astarion to have a multitude of sketchy deals she wasn’t welcome to know about.  It didn’t make her feelings of embarrassment any easier to swallow.  He had never mentioned to her that he didn’t trust her translation. 

“And what deal did you make with him?” she inquired.

“I would provide all the details of the Rite carved into his flesh in exchange for secrets.  Fifty was the number we negotiated, with more valuable information having a higher price.”  Raphael smiled down at her, and she immediately knew what kinds of secrets he wanted.  Her favorite color was boreal blue.  She preferred silver.  The wedding gifts Raphael presented her were fruits from his contract with Astarion.

“My preferences?” she challenged, hoping to indicate that she wasn’t incredibly stupid, despite the multitude of failings surrounding her Infernal reading comprehension that vehemently suggested the opposite.

“And more.”  Raphael purred back to her.  “I wanted my wife to be comfortable.  Of course he was not above a little light thievery in service, but he was able to negotiate a good price on certain items.”  He raised an eyebrow, waiting to see if she would infer his meaning.

Her eyes rapidly scanned the corridor around them as she fought internally for what Astarion may have stolen from her.  She snapped back to Raphael.  “How many of my clothes did he take?”  The gown she was wearing fit too perfectly to be some sort of coincidence or guessing game.

“Most were returned.  You will find your wardrobe here to be well stocked.”  His voice was calm and casual, but Tav immediately found the implication violating.

“Most?” she demanded.

“Most.” Raphael confirmed.

An absolutely horrifying thought crossed her mind of Astarion stealing her smallclothes and gifting them to Raphael.  Oh Gods, worn or unworn?   She really didn’t want to know but she suspected one was more likely.  Her eyes went wide, and Raphael chuckled.  She knew he could see what she was wrestling with in her mind.  His devilish glee confirmed that she was correct.

A deep abyss of hurt started to emerge in her chest though she tried to conceal it on her face.  Astarion made a deal with Raphael and betrayed her trust by stealing her most intimate things and secrets from her.  They were close friends, sharing vulnerabilities and life experiences.  They shared pains and insecurities, joys and bits of mischief.  Little did she know, he was lurking around her tent waiting to steal and air out her dirty laundry for Raphael.  What else did Astarion tell him?  She was confident that the deal didn’t just end with favorite colors and dirty smallclothes.  How many of her other friends had Raphael seduced into various deals?  Certainly not Wyll or Karlach, they would never have signed with Raphael.  Lae’zel had everything she wanted from Raphael, and Gale wanted nothing to do with him.  Shadowheart?  Jaheira?  Minsc?  Halsin?   The paranoia was giving her nausea.

“That clears up some issues, thank you for the confirmation,” Tav said blandly, trying to hide the dark bruises of betrayal under a thin guise of indifference.

“Shall we continue?” Tav asked, her feelings swirling around her like a hurricane.  Deep and angry.  Chaotic and unpredictable.  Astarion sold her out to Raphael.   As Raphael led them towards the bedrooms her heart started to pound in her chest.

“This door leads to the Boudoir which is Haarlep’s domain,” Raphael explained at the heavily gilded door in front of her. “They entertain various guests on occasion.”  He led her to the next door down the corridor.  

“This is the master’s suite,” Raphael paused quickly.  “This is where I rest, and where you will join me when you are summoned to my bedchambers.”  Tav was swallowing every emotion and trying to suppress them from erupting in the hallway.

Raphael led her to an adjacent door to a fancy room.  “This is the Archduchess’s suite.  It is meant to be your personal sanctuary.  The wardrobes should be filled with garments to your liking.  I suppose you might appreciate a few moments to settle in and relax,” he offered smoothly.  

Tav nodded but said nothing.  She didn’t move a muscle and cast her eyes downward to the tiles on the floor.  She supposed real privacy was something she was never going to have ever again now that she was fucking owned by Raphael.  When she turned to face him again, he had a peculiar look on his face, as though he was trying to read her innermost thoughts.  Gods.  Fuck.  If he was reading her innermost thoughts…   He smoothly pivoted the dying conversation.  “Please accept this ring as an additional wedding gift,” Raphael snapped and a small wooden jewelry box appeared in his hand.  She didn’t even bother looking at it as he started to open the box to show her.

“No.” She asserted blankly, bursting through the doors to her chambers.  She slammed the doors shut behind her and sank to the floor of her new quarters with her back to the door.  Her eyes squeezed shut tightly, and she wondered if she squeezed tightly enough if everything would just go away.  The contract.  The contracts.   Multiple.  Contracts.

Tav, you are a Gods damned idiot , her inner voice rang out.

Tears flowed freely down her face, and she couldn’t stop them.  They froze to her cheek as they fell.  Everything had clearly gone to shit.  One of her closest friends was stalking and spying on her.  She is worthless at research and was recently dumped by the sexy resident archmage of her little crew.  Now she is accidentally married to a fucking devil, most of her companions hate her, and there is no way out.   

And now here she is, preparing to fuck fucking Raphael.  

Raphael was not the person she was supposed to be preparing to fuck on her wedding night.  It should be Gale.  Raphael was supposed to be Gale.  They were supposed to be in Waterdeep, sitting on the balcony in his study overlooking the sea in the evening as the sun set.  Only there was no sea.  There was no evening.  There was never going to be night ever again.  Outside her window there was only the heat and flames of Avernus.

Tav wondered if Raphael truly thought somehow that she was happy with this arrangement.  She started with shock and denial which then spiraled into flooding humiliation that gave way to an academic detachment which was rejected in favor of violation and anger.  All other emotions left exhausted, there was only despair left behind for her.

Tav slowly rose to her feet and surveyed her new chambers.  There was a large four poster bed in the center covered with thick, fluffy pillows and a black comforter with red and gold embroidery in a pattern of roses and birds.  A door to a private bath lay on one of the side walls surrounded by several deep wardrobes.  Everything was as immaculate and luxurious as the rest of the House of Hope.  Broad windows overlooked the bleak horizon, framed by heavy black curtains to provide her the illusion of night if she wished.  

Something was laid neatly on the bed.  As she approached, she realized it was a red silk night robe and a black set of lacy smallclothes that were unlikely to conceal much of anything.

Leave it to Raphael to be so much of a control freak that he selected his wife’s fuck clothes.

She sat down beside her new fuck clothes.  Her mind drifted back to what should have been.  Gale was sweet and romantic.  His romantic lines were cheesy and self-indulgent and long , but they worked, and they were beautiful.

The night before he proposed when they were in his tent, Gale knelt between her thighs and she smiled up at him in love and desire.  He whispered to her  “You are the one that I truly love.  You are everything to me, and I desire to spend my life entirely with you.”

The day after they had become betrothed, Gale had been stricken with some sort of severe illness that even Shadowheart’s magic and a restorative potion failed to cure.  His chest felt tight, and his forehead clammy and feverish.  He was aching to the bone and looking so haggard that he needed an incredible amount of rest and tending.  Tav stayed with him the entire time.  She wiped his face and chest with a perpetually-cold wet cloth to break the fever and served him broth that would have been warmer had it not been served by a worried Tav.  He lay his head in her lap as she stroked his hair back and traced soothing circles on his upper back.  She felt a mild pain in her chest that he was so ill, but still she tried to soothe him gently to sleep.  “My love, be careful that you don’t also succumb to my condition,” he murmured gently.  “Just rest, I’ll take care of you.  I love you,” she said quietly.  She moved to lay behind him, his back pressed into her chest.  She continued to trace his shoulders gently to soothe him to sleep.  When he drifted off into sleep, she moved her arm to rest gently over his waist, her body continuing to cool his fever.  After a long time had passed, she fell asleep holding him gently.

There were no more honeyed romantic words being spoken to her now.  There was no more care and sweetness.  There was no more afterglow.

The ring box had mysteriously found its way into her room.  Fucking Raphael.   It sat unopened on the nightstand.  She tried her best to ignore it.

There was a crack from behind her, and Tav turned to see a younger version of her new husband standing behind her, wearing something that was somehow more revealing than the preselected lace smallclothes laying by her side.  This must be the incubus.

“You must be Haarlep.  Raphael told me about you,” Tav introduced herself with an irritated twist.

The incubus grinned broadly.  “You must be the master’s new pet .”  Her jaw clenched.  The incubus looked her over hungrily.  “Or wife , I suppose.  Aren’t they much the same thing, hmm?”

“What are you doing here?  These are supposed to be the Archduchess’s chambers.”  She was hoping she could point this out and wave them away like Raphael had done with the Archivist, but Haarlep was not to be deterred so easily.

Their body rapidly began to transform from a Raphael-ish form into something that was still a Raphael-ish form but decidedly more feminine.  Tav was stunned.

“Then it is a good thing I have an Archduchess Raphael form,” they grinned, and a high, light purr rumbled through their chest.

Haarlep prowled around her room, picking up and investigating several decorations placed on the furnishings before disinterestedly setting them back down again.  They walked over to her wardrobe and quickly opened it up, rifling through the contents.  Tav observed silently.

“A surprising amount of blue,” they mused.  “Raphael so very much prefers red.”

“I don’t care what Raphael prefers,” Tav deadpanned.  “I like blue.”

“You are a fascinating creature , I cannot wait to play with you when the master allows.”  Their voice was sultry and smooth with a single touch of growling on the word ‘play.’

Haarlep removed a red silk dress with a plunging neckline and high slit up the side from Tav’s wardrobe, showing it to her.  They traced the embroidery on the bodice with a gentle claw.  The stitching was silver with a pattern reminiscent of the smoke from the fires of Avernus.

“If you wear this to dinner tomorrow, I doubt the master will last long enough even to get you to bed.”

“I am not fucking Raphael in a hallway.”

Haarlep’s grin somehow widened even further with sinister glee, showing entirely too many teeth.  “My darling, that’s not what I meant .”  Tav raised an eyebrow but was wary of inquiring further.  This felt too much like some kind of test.  There was no way in Hells that she was trusting the incubus.  Though if what the incubus said was true, she might have just made a new best friend.  Now that Astarion is dead to her.

“You are quite beautiful,” Haarlep complimented her.  “I can see why he won’t shut up about you.”

Tav narrowed her eyes slightly, intrigued but certain that she was dealing with an unreliable source.  “What did he say?”

“It would be simpler to find things he hasn’t said,” the incubus suggested.  The Archduchess form of Raphael adopted their best impression of Raphael himself with their feminine voice.  Smug, self-confident, and a delightful mockery that Tav was sure the master of the house would find undignified.   

“My Little Mouse, such a clever and beautiful creature.”  Haarlep paused for dramatic effect in much the same way the real Raphael would have done.  “My Little Mouse, soon to be a fine Queen of the Hells.  My Beloved Lady, such a tempting treat being slowly seduced by the calls of the infernal sin and temptation.  My Dearest Mouse, please read Infernal to me.”

Tav was surprised to find herself in a fit of laughter, smiling at the delighted incubus.  “Does he always call me his Little Mouse or his Lady or does he bother using my actual name sometimes?”

“It depends on his moods,” Haarlep explained.  “I have been called a great deal of names.  He hasn’t wanted my Archduke Raphael form in a long, long time, since around the time when he met you, I believe.”  Haarlep was sauntering around her room.  They stopped at her bedpost, gripped it firmly in their claws, and rolled their hips upwards in a mock thrust before swinging around the posts in the start of a naughty dance.  “He only wants my Archduchess form now, and he uses your names when we lay together.  How dull.”

Haarlep seductively swung around the post of her bed again.  This time, their leg was lifted high with their bare thigh wrapped around the post and their back seductively arched, pushing their breasts out as far as they could.  They stopped and turned to look back at Tav, holding her gaze.

“ Tavara ,” Haarlep said in a breathy feminine moan, legs still wrapped around the post of her bed.  “ My Little Mouse .” Another breathy moan followed it and an exaggerated thrust.  “It gets quite old, but he never seems to tire of it.”

Tav was dumbstruck.  “He wanted you to be me?”  Haarlep stopped trying to 'make love' to the post of her bed.

“You innocent little rodent,” Haarlep chuckled and their smile became more of a smug sneer.  “He has had you in every story he can imagine.  You can’t imagine the lines we’ve recited together.”

Gods.

“He has so many favorites, but there is something he loves to murmur to us right after he finishes inside of us.”  She didn’t want to know.  She didn’t want to know.  She didn’t want to know.  “Do you want to hear it?” Haarlep purred.

“Fuck no.”   She knew regardless of what she answered the incubus was going to tell her what Raphael was like when he came.  While she also knew she was likely about to experience this set of noises firsthand, she also hoped that lightning bolts would somehow strike Raphael down from the clouds of Avernus, so his orgasm noises would no longer be a point of discussion.

“You are the only one I truly desire.  You are everything to me, and I will spend eternity with you.”   Haarlep’s voice had slipped back into Raphael’s and the entire statement was much less lewd than she expected.

It could have been worse.

“He loves me to play pretend with him.  There was one scenario in particular that caught his fancy several tendays ago, do you want to hear it?”  Haarlep’s tail swished behind them eagerly, excited by the idea of sharing their master’s secrets.

“No.”  Her voice was insistently, but the incubus continued to grin.  “Fine,”   Tav relented.  She buried her face in her hands.  She needed to hear it but didn’t want to hear it.

“He had a strange favorite for a short while.  It was a scenario that he made me act out with him, and I’m sure you know he loves his rehearsals to make the actors ready for their performances.”

“Gods above, what sick things did he have you do while you pretended to be me?” Tav demanded.

“It was quite simple, you see, when he lay with me.  He wanted to be on top, which until recently was a very unusual request.”  Haarlep trailed off, but Tav was incensed to know the rest of the story.  Of course the incubus was going to go straight to the sex part and ignore anything other than fucking.

“What else did he do to you while he pretended that you were me?” Tav insisted again.  She pushed down a feeling of disgust.  Today really had to be the worst day of her life, easily eclipsing the time she was stabbed to death by Hook Horrors and revivified back prematurely and still in peril only to be subjected to a second demise caused by additional Hook Horror stabbing.

“He comforted you, my Little Mouse.  He had me cry on his shoulder oh so many times before he promised to take care of me forever, and then we lay together.”  Haarlep’s voice rose to a high pitch, pretending to be a damsel in distress.  Tav wondered if that damsel was exactly what Raphael felt she was.

“Why was I crying?” Tav demanded.

“Someone had died , Tavara.  Raphael was there to make sure that you were alright and not lonely.”

“Who?”  Tav’s voice raised in anger.  “Who died?” she demanded.  She already suspected she knew the answer.

“I don’t know,” Haarlep taunted.  “Some sort of wizard.”

“What the actual fuck,” Tav demanded.  Again, the incubus seemed to take her words as a request for more bedroom-specific information rather than offering the broader context..

Haarlep laid down on the other side of her bed.  “I wouldn’t worry about the actual fuck,” they clarified.  “If it is anything like he rehearsed, he probably won’t last for more than a few thrusts.  That is how excited you make him.”

Tav buried her face in her hands again.  This really couldn’t be happening.  

“Who was that wizard?  Golly?  Gaul?  Gull? ”  Haarlep attempted half-heartedly.  

“Gale,” Tav responded dryly.

“That’s the one!”  Haarlep exclaimed with glee.

“Gale and I were betrothed once,”  Tav explained.

“That explains it!” Haarlep stood up on her bed before quickly jumping into the air and flopping gleefully on their back on Tav’s mattress.  “It was only maybe two tendays at most of pretending to feel that sorrow for the untimely demise of your wizard.  Do not worry, Little Wife,  I cried so much at his loss.”

“So did I,” Tav answered directly.  Haarlep crawled over across her bed, their grin deep.

“Then I guess that is something we both share, in addition to our master’s bed.”  There was a quick wink before Haarlep disappeared in a puff of smoke and embers.

Fuck.  

FUCK!

Tav curled her legs in towards her face and cried.  More tears.  More ice.

Eventually, she heard a knock at the door to her chamber.  “Go away!” she yelled through the door.

“My Lady, the master of the house has requested that you join him in his chambers this evening,” a maid responded.

Tav groaned and looked again at the gifted lingerie, slightly rumpled from Haarlep playing on her bed.  There really wasn’t going to be any getting out of this one.

“Very well,” she responded, letting out a big sigh. 

Tav let down the Trobairitz knot, and waves of brunette curls cascaded down her back.  She set the silver bracelet on the nightstand next to the ring box.  She washed her face with warm water to remove the lingering kohl from her eyes in which dried and frozen tears had traced dark, jagged lines down her cheeks.  She removed her gown and let it fall into a crumpled heap on the floor below her.  She donned the lace lingerie and looked at herself in the mirror.  Her nipples were visible through the holes in the lace.  The bottoms also covered up very little of her sex.  The patches of glimmering white scales on her chest, inner thighs, and abdomen were on full display, shimmering in the light from the windows.

She quickly covered up with the red silk robe, which went down to her mid thigh.  She felt strangely bashful, never having had a problem being naked in front of others before.

Tav left her quarters and walked to the master’s suite next door.  She placed three sharp knocks on the door.

“Dear wife, please do come in.”  The lust in Raphael’s voice was obvious even through the door.  She entered.

Her room was already spacious and luxurious, but Raphael’s suite was at least twice as large.  Thick curtains were drawn in every window, and the room was bathed in the light of several dozen candles.  Beams of reddish Avernus light peeked out from underneath the curtains.  A large ornate canopy bed sat at the center of the room, made up with deep red silk sheets and curtains.  Two goblets and another bottle of red wine lay waiting on one of the nightstands.

The master of the house rose from a settee on the right side of the room, and moved to greet her.  He was still in his cambion form but shirtless, wearing loose black silk lounging pants.  Tav was surprised to see that Raphael had decided not to wear the Crown of Karsus while they consummated their marriage.

Tav walked towards him and stopped at the center of the room.  Raphael approached her slowly, like she was a skittish animal, staying a respectable arm's length away.  His vision roamed her form, stopping briefly at the sash on her robe.

“You are so beautiful, my wife.”  He raised a hand to her face, cupping her cheek gently.  He smoothed his thumb over her cheekbone, careful not to scratch her with his claws.  His thumb ran lightly across her lower lip, and he swallowed hard.  Tav passively looked up at him, gazing into his eyes.  Everything contained within them was pure, undiluted lust.

Raphael pulled her into his arms.  He lowered his face towards hers and entwined his right hand in her hair, leaning down to accommodate her much smaller form.  His lips met hers with a needy, demanding kiss.  His left hand effortlessly undid the tie on her robe, letting it fall open before his hand came to rest on her hip.  Tav closed her eyes and returned the fervor in his kiss, tentatively resting her arms around his neck.  She pulled him in gently before breaking the kiss, stepping backwards.  A low growl rumbled in Raphael’s chest as she put space between them, his hand still running through her hair.

His gaze upon her could have burned even more holes into the lace of the fuck clothes he selected for her.  His erection was straining his lounging pants and the look on his face was entitled and hungry.

The violations of her privacy.  The betrayal of her friends.  His fucking murder fantasies.   His manipulation and surprise proposal.  Everything weighed too heavily within her mind to allow for lust or arousal or even pretending.  

“I am going to sleep.  Goodnight, husband,” she said firmly.  She let the robe fall from her shoulders, walked to the far side of the bed and climbed under the covers.

Raphael stood there watching her, stunned.  She turned away from him to lay on her side, so she wouldn’t have to face his gaze or his commentary.  She just closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

After a few moments, Raphael crawled into the bed next to her.  He maneuvered so that his chest pressed warmly against her back.  His large, clawed hand traced gently down her shoulder and down her side, running over her curves and the hems of the lingerie.  His hand eventually came to rest on her stomach.  His wing gently engulfed them both, and his tail found a sleeping spot curled around her thigh.

There was a quiet snap and the room went completely dark.  Tav felt a whisper in her ear.  “Goodnight, wife.”

She drifted off to sleep.

[rjzimmerman]

Anthony Fauci: A Mosquito in My Backyard Made Me the Sickest I’ve Ever Been. (New York Times)

Excerpt from this New York Times Op-Ed by Anthony Fauci:

There is no treatment for West Nile virus disease, and I was left to deal with its toll on my body. It was terrifying. I could not swing my legs over the side of the bed to sit up without help from my wife and three daughters. I could not stand up without assistance and certainly could not walk. A very scary part of the ordeal was the effect on my cognition. I was disoriented, unable to remember certain words, asking questions of my family that I should have known the answers to. I was afraid that I would never recover and return to normal.

Fortunately, over a period of a few weeks slow improvement began. I was able to walk with a walker and then without any assistance. Now I can walk a few miles per day with only minimal fatigue, and my cognitive issues have completely resolved. I am on my way to a total recovery, but it has been a harrowing experience.

I tell my story because West Nile virus is a disease that, for many people, can have devastating and permanent consequences. At my age of 83, I was at risk of permanent neurological impairment and even death. Yet the public may be unaware of the danger of this disease and that it continues to spread across the United States; it has been identified in 46 states this year. Unfortunately, very little is being done about it from scientific and public awareness perspectives.

West Nile virus belongs to the family of flaviviruses that also includes yellow fever and dengue viruses. It was first detected in the United States in the New York City area in 1999, most likely introduced from the Middle East or parts of Africa where it is prevalent. Mosquitoes get the virus from infected birds, and then pass the virus on to humans by a bite. West Nile virus infection is by far the most common mosquito-borne disease in the United States: Since 1999, about 60,000 cases have been reported. The actual number of infections is surely higher, no doubt in the millions, since many cases are not reported because infections are often asymptomatic or are confused with other common maladies such as flu. Among the reported cases in the United States, more than 30,000 have had neurological symptoms like mine, resulting in about 23,000 hospitalizations and close to 3,000 deaths.

As climate change makes it easier for mosquitoes to proliferate in many places, West Nile virus disease as well as other mosquito-borne illnesses are emerging as greater threats in this country and elsewhere. Yet, efforts to develop a vaccine or treatment for this illness are modest compared with those for other diseases of public health importance.

So, how do we address this emerging public health threat? Vaccine development must go forward; however, to be successful, clinical trials must be international and include countries with a consistent and large number of cases each year. The pathway to a vaccine cannot be in the United States alone. Global public-private partnerships between the N.I.H. and the drug industry have historically proved successful in the development of a number of important vaccines such as those against hepatitis B and Covid. There is no reason this shouldn’t also be the case for a West Nile virus vaccine.

The same holds true for the development of antiviral drugs. There is no insurmountable scientific obstacle to developing safe and effective antiviral drugs for West Nile virus infection. The pharmaceutical industry in collaboration with the N.I.H. and other partners had remarkable success in developing effective drugs for other emerging viral infections. Examples include lifesaving drugs for H.I.V. infection, therapies for hepatitis C infection and useful drugs for Covid-19 and influenza. With international research partnerships and political will spurred by an engaged activist community such as we have seen with H.I.V. and now long Covid, West Nile virus treatments and prevention tools should be within our grasp.

[viandclintbarton-supremacy]

Lost Boy (EngWnt x Male Reader)

This was inspired by Lost Boy

8,869 words

Warning: Swears, Angst and fluff moments

Why am I here? This is isn't home. Well you didn't know what a home is.

You say as you wait outside the famous St George Park. You feel the rain hit the top of your head and shoulders as you hear the car that dropped you off drive away. You sighed as nerves and anxiety crept in. You wanted to be here but also wanted to be home back in Japan.

You missed the feeling, you missed your apartment, you missed your training grounds, your teammates and the Kawasaki Frontale faithful.

You were scared to be in a land that you only been to with your team once before. Truth is you were an orphan, you were left at an orphanage in Japan in Kanagawa from there you grew up and at the age of 13 you joined the Kanagawa youth squad and once you hit 16 you became part of the first team 3 years later, 42 assists and 77 goals for the club. You wanted to play for the japan national team but you kept getting the cold shoulder. You started to deflate, lose motivation and felt the same feeling you felt since you could remember. The pain your so called parents gave you.

Worthless

Dissapointment

Lost

"Lost Boy, Lost Boy, Lost Boy" A smile came to your face and you recollected that chant Kanagawa fans would chant for you. The story of you being a orphan made the fans sympathise with you and your constant big player status on the field made you a fan favourite and was gifted the name Lost Boy.

That chant was something special it made you feel like you belonged, like a son to the crowd. The first time you heard it you had to fight back tears but bowed to the crowd.

It was your Neverland

You looked down before composing yourself, you started to walk into the reception of St George Park and you spot Serena Wiegman and Gareth Southgate waiting for you.

You think about how you ended up in the situation. Playing for England?!?!

You remember playing a man of the match worthy game in the AFC Champions League against 2 time champs from Ulsan Hyundai. Scoring 4 goals and assist. As you walked off the pitch to the famous Lost Boy chants, you didn't notice Serena Wiegman who was enjoying a vacation watching you from the crowd.

She approached you outside the locker room with your manager. Seeing your talent, the fans love for you and potential. She researched your background and found out that you have English relations due to your mother. And Serena wanted to give you a chance as she believed you not playing international football a crime. You was overwhelmed. Leaving Japan, going to England, no friends, no faces you know except for Serena.

But you knew deep down that this could change your life for the better.

"F/N, I'm so glad you are here" Serena said as she approached you with a warm smile. You go for a hand shake but Serena gave you a hug. She made you feel welcome and made you feel protected. You gave her a slight hug back and she turned to Southgate making sure to keep a hand on your back to let you feel comfortable. "F/N this is Gareth Southgate, the manager of the England Senior team." You extended your hand to the man who shook your hand. "Pleasure sir" you said respectfully in English "Nice to meet you L/N, Wiegman told me all about you. I have seen some of your stuff, I hope you step up" He said in a cold tone, you wanted to frown but hid it. It felt like he wasn't happy you were here "Mr Southgate, I said it before and ill say it again. This young man is an extraordinary talent and no offence to the team but his passion for the game shines brighter then your passion when you played for England"

God damn, you eyes slightly widen as you look back and forth between the duo. The tone of her voice sounded like a mother defending her child Talk about putting pressure on you. Southgate clearly wasn't happy with the comment but didn't say anything back. "Anyway, let me show you around. Serena" He said leading the way for you before saying goodbye to Serena "Actually i will come along" The Dutch women said "But what about the girls?" you looked back at Southgate before turning back to the lady. "They will be fine, the staff are already their for the girls training, i will see them after Y/N is settled in" She as she patted your back.

You smiled at her as the three of you walk into the building. You thought about what Serena was talking about. The girls? Her team is here training. The Lionesses! You remember watching them in the Euro's 2022 and it was inspiring to watch and witness. You had hope to cross paths in some way with one of them just to seek knowledge from the European champions if you crossed paths. But the whole team was here!

As you were taking to each rooms and facilities, you made sure to shake everyone's hand. The staff should be treated like they are part of the team. This made Serena smile when she picked up on the gesture whilst Southgate thought it was you trying to look good in front of him.

"This concludes our journey. I must depart now, as we have some new arrivals later. The rest of the team will arrive later tonight. Make yourself at Home F/N. Serena" Gareth said leaving in a hurry as he left you outside your hotel door. You let a sigh and ran your hands through your hair. "Well he sure is something" You say in a light hearted tone as you felt Serena's hand on your shoulder "He is a stubborn man, he rarely changes his team up and when i suggested you he laughed it off. But because of my belief I even went to the FA" your eyebrows raised as she nodded at tour response "Yes I made a case that you are what the men's team needed and they listened and push him on it." You looked at Serena with admiration. She really did believe in you, all that worry and nervous energy turned into determination.

You were going to make sure you proved Southgate wrong, repay Serena and show the world who F/N L/N is "Thank you Serena, you wont regret this" She smiled like a mother and patted your back "Now go rest, you must be tired' You smiled and shook your head "I managed to get sleep on the journey here. If its no issue since none of my teammates are her, can I watch you train the lionesses for a bit" Her curious look turned into a wide smile "Of course" You smiled and dropped your belongings in your room "May I ask, why do you want to watch." She asked curiously as you followed her "Well, you and the Lionesses are one of the top teams in the world, I'd be stupid to not want to watch h and learn from you and the women" She smiled, she found admirable that you would want to learn from the women when a lot just bash female footballers "Why me I'm just the manager?" she would say curious on what wanted to learn from her

You grinned as you walked alongside Serena. "Why you? Really? Well for starters, you're not just 'just the coach.' You're Serena Wiegman, the brilliant mind behind one of the most successful women's national teams in the world. You've achieved incredible success and I have a lot to learn from you. Plus, watching the Lionesses in action is an opportunity I couldn't pass up. Your team's skill, tactics and teamwork are truly works of art to me." Serena chuckled at your response and your excitement, clearly appreciating your enthusiasm and respect for the women's game. "Well, I'm flattered, F/N. We'd be glad to have you watch our training. I believe that learning from each other, regardless of gender, is how we all grow and improve in this beautiful sport."

You followed Serena out to one of the 3Gs the team was training on, You were feeling better then earlier, With Southgate gone and you can be around a pitch and watching football made you happy and at peace. Though nerves did run through as you were gonna be watching top flight pros playing

As you stepped onto the pitch and the view of the Lionesses practicing their drills came into focus, you couldn't hide the awe on your face. It was a sight to behold, the precision, the skill, and the teamwork of the reigning European champions were truly impressive.

You watched as Lucy Bronze skilfully dribbled the ball, Keira Walsh executed pinpoint passes, and Bethany England alongside Alessia Russio showcased her finishing ability. It was clear why they were considered among the best in the world.

The enthusiasm and energy of the Lionesses were infectious and it felt like a privilege to witness their training session. As you followed Serena, you couldn't help but feel a sense of motivation and inspiration.

As the Lionesses gathered in hushed conversation on the pitch, you found yourself still engaged in discussion with Serena Wiegman. Talking about her thoughts and expectations of the team as they near the Women's World Cup. The moment was a unique one for you as you were not only adapting to a new country and a new team but also facing the uncertainty of how you would be received.

Serena's voice was reassuring and she had the ability to put you at ease. She spoke about her belief in your abilities and her dedication to seeing you succeed in the England Men's team. Her unwavering support was like a lifeline. Keeping your confidence up and alive as you days counted down to your international debut.

"You know, F/N," Serena said, Turning towards you with her arms crossed, her eyes filled with determination, "I have high hopes for you. Your passion for the game and your incredible talent can bring a new energy to our national team and football. I believe that your presence will not only benefit you but also inspire our Lionesses. " She smiled as she glanced at the powerful women training and pushing their limits. "We have an incredible family of football here in England and I want you to feel at home."

You couldn't help but smile. Serena's words resonated with you and they helped the anxiety and homesickness that had lingered since your arrival in England fade away for that moments. It was the reassurance and guidance you needed. "Thank you, Serena," you replied with genuine gratitude as you bowed your head to her. "I appreciate your belief in me and your efforts to bring me here. I'm determined to give my best and contribute to the England Men's team. And if there's ever an opportunity for our teams to come together and train, I'd love to be a part of it."

Serena nodded, her eyes filled with warmth. "I'm glad to hear that, F/N." She stepped towards you placing a firm grip and pat on your arm "We're not just about men's and women's football here; we're one football family. Your presence here is a testament to that, and I'm certain you'll make a positive impact."

As you continued your conversation, little did you know that the Lionesses were observing you from a distance. The collective curiosity and intrigue of the England Women's National Team would soon lead to a new chapter in your journey, one filled with camaraderie, mutual respect and the realization that you had indeed found a football family

On one side of the pitch near the goal, Mary Earps, Ella Toone and Alessia Russo exchanged curious glances and hushed whispers.

Mar, the goalkeeper, leaned in and said, "Have you two seen that guy talking to Serena? Who is he, and what's he doing here?" as she played with the football in her hands

Ella Toone shrugged her shoulders, her eyes still fixed on you. "I have no idea, but he seems to be quite interested in what Serena is saying. Could he be a new coach or something?" She said crossing her arms as curiosity settled in

Alessia Russo chimed in, "I don't know, but he doesn't look like a coach. Maybe he's a new player or something? We can ask Serena later."

"Yeah you can ask for his number HAHA OW" Ella showed shout after receiving a kick from Alessia to the backside

Meanwhile on the other side of the pitch, Lucy Bronze, Keira Walsh and Bethany England were engaged in their own discussion. Lucy, with a sharp eye for talent, recognized you from a few clips she had seen online. "I swear seen that guy before," Lucy remarked, nodding in your direction. "He's a player, I'm sure of it. I saw some clips of him and he's got some serious skills if its who I think it is."

Keira Walsh, the midfielder, leaned in with interest. "Really? He looks like he's in deep conversation with Serena. Maybe he's a new addition to the men's team? Don't think I seen him in any of the youth teams in the past" Lucy nodded in thought

Bethany England, who had been eyeing you with curiosity chimed in, "Well, if he's here to play, he must be pretty good. We should introduce ourselves later and make him feel welcome."

As the training session continued, more and more of Lionesses kept a watchful eye on you, curious to learn more about the mysterious player who had captured Serena Wiegman's attention.

Serena would excuse you as she would approach the team to go over things about upcoming matches as you headed to the stands to watch the rest of the session from there. As Serena addressed the team and laid out their plans for the upcoming match, the Lionesses listened attentively. Afterward, Leah Williamson was the first to break the ice, curiosity getting the best of her.

"If I may" Leah began, "who is that boy you were talking to earlier? Is he a new coach or part of the England media team?"

Millie Bright, seated nearby, chimed in with her own question, "Yeah, he looked quite engaged in your conversation. Is he here to help with our training or something?"

Serena smiled and decided to share a bit about you, the new member of the England Men's team. "Actually, that young man you saw is F/N L/N. He's not a coach or part of the media team. F/N is a talented footballer, and he's recently joined the England Men's national team. I believe he has a lot to offer and you might see him around from time to time. As he requested to watch todays training" The mention of your name and the explanation from Serena piqued the interest of the Lionesses. They exchanged intrigued glances, realizing that you were not just a casual observer but a actual player.

"If his apart of the men's team, why is he watching us and not with Southgate?" Lauren Hemp who handed a drink to Jess park as she spoke up. The question was a thought was on most of the girls minds.

"Good question Lauren" Serena began. "F/N is here because he's new to England and he wanted to observe the training and learn more about the style and strategies of English football. He's keen on acclimating himself to the English game as quickly as possible. Whilst he's officially a part of the men's team, he's interested in learning from our team as well."

Serena's explanation seemed to make sense to the Lionesses. With them and Lauren nodded in understanding. It was clear that you were genuinely eager to immerse yourself in English football. The curiosity about your presence now seemed to be mingled with a sense of mutual respect for your dedication to the game. It was indeed a unique situation to have a male player from the men's team showing genuine interest in observing and learning from the Lionesses. It was a testament to your dedication and willingness to go the extra mile to improve your skills and understanding of football.

As the training session continued, you couldn't help but notice the collective gaze of the Lionesses directed your way. You had been absorbed in watching their drills and skills, trying to absorb as much as you could from the reigning European champions, but you couldn't ignore the fact that you had become the center of attention. Which was starting to make you anxious and paranoid

Whilst you were checking your Instagram notifications, you looked up from your spot of the Lionesses, You took a double take and realized they were watching you with expressions ranging from curiosity to amusement. Feeling a bit self-conscious, you flashed a small, sheepish grin and gave a little wave in acknowledgment of their attention as you slowly sinked into the chair and hoodie

"Aww, so cute." Millie Bright couldn't help but tease with a playful smile. Her comment drew light laughter from some of the other players. "Lets adopt" Rachel Daly would say as she gave Bright a should bump as the duo laughed. It seemed that your friendly wave had endeared you to the Lionesses even more.

Leah Williamson leaned over to Lauren Hemp and whispered, "Well, I have to say, he's certainly not what I expected from a guy joining the men's team. Seems like a good guy." Lauren Hemp nodded in agreement. "Definitely. We should introduce ourselves later and make him feel welcome." Knowing that whenever someone joins a new team or place for the first time it can be overwhelming"

As the training session with the Lionesses concluded, Serena Wiegman decided it was a good time to have a private conversation with one of her most experienced players, Lucy Bronze. The two of them found a quiet corner of the field

"Lucy, I need to talk to you about something important," Serena began, her expression grave. Lucy, ever the professional, sensed the gravity of the situation and nodded for her coach to continue. Serena took a deep breath. "You know the new player, F/N L/N, who you all have been eyeing?" Lucy's eyes lit with recognition. "Yeah, I saw him talking to you earlier. He's a really talented player from what I have seen. What about him?" As said as she crossed her arms

Serena leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "Well, the thing is, his arrival hasn't been entirely smooth. Southgate has been... less than welcoming, let's say." She would say in a displeased tone, Lucy raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Really? But why? He's a great talent. What's Southgate's problem?"

Serena sighed, her disappointment evident. "I don't know for sure, but it seems that Southgate has a certain way of doing things, and he's resistant to change. He's been dismissive of F/N ever since my recommendation and since F/N arrival, despite his incredible talent and potential."

Lucy's expression hardened as she glanced to where you were sitting before placing her hands on her hips and turning towards Serena. She had a reputation for being outspoken and a supportive teammate. This situation didn't sit well with her. "That's not right. If he's here to help the team, Southgate should at least give him a chance. Is there anything I can do to help?" She would ask with good intent as she suspected Serena was telling her this for a reason

Lucy nodded firmly. "Don't worry Serena, We should have each other's backs that's what makes a team. I'll make sure the team knows about this and that we extend a warm welcome to F/N." Serena smiled, her trust in Lucy reaffirmed. "Thank you, Lucy. I knew I could count on you. Let's make sure that F/N feels like a part of this football family and let's show Southgate how wrong he is. We need to look out for him on and off the pitch. He knows no one in country, he needs some friends. I cant speak for the men's team but I trust you and the girls" Lucy was driven to make sure you are welcomed and had new friends.

After returning to your room and finishing a workout, you realized that your roommate had yet to arrive. It gave you some time to unwind and reflect on the day's events. Your thoughts swirled with excitement about watching the Lionesses' training session and the camaraderie that seemed to be developing between you and the women's team. As you were catching your breath, a sudden knock at the door interrupted your solitude. You quickly made your way to the door, opening it to find Lucy Bronze, Keira Walsh, and Bethany England standing there, wearing friendly smiles.

"Hey there, F/N right?" Lucy greeted you with a warm and welcoming tone. "Mind if we come in for a chat?"

Your surprise at their visit quickly turned into a grin as you stepped aside to allow them entry. "Of course, come on in. It's great to see you all again. What brings you here?" You were sweating bricks

Bethany England was the first to speak, her friendly demeaner shining through. "We thought we'd swing by and officially welcome you to England, We thought it may be a bit daunting coming to a place where you know no one"

Keira Walsh nodded in agreement. "Yeah, We also heard about your conversation with Serena. It's not often we get a male player showing interest in our training sessions and we wanted to say hello."

Lucy chimed in "Plus, we wanted to let you know that we're here for you. If you have any questions, need any advice or just want to hang out, we're your go to squad." She said in a cheeky voice in the end

Your heart swelled with gratitude and appreciation as you looked at the three Lionesses who had taken the time to visit you. "Thank you, that means a lot. I'm really excited to be here, and I'm looking forward to learning and growing learning here. I'd love to get to know you all better and train together sometime." This was the first time you were getting attention not for your popularity or status. In Japan your teammates were stick around you for popularity and when the cameras where gone they didn't go near you. so this was refreshing, so you were eager to make actual friends

Bethany England grinned. "That sounds like a plan. We'll make sure to coordinate some joint training sessions in the future. But for now, let's just hang out and get to know each other better. We were about to head to the cafeteria and eat, You wanna tag along?" You smiled and nodded excitedly "Of course"

"Great, Come on Youngblood" Lucy would say as Keira patted your back and guided you out of the room following Beth and Lucy.

As you all settled around a table in the bustling cafeteria, the Lionesses were quick to initiate a conversation about your background. "So, F/N," Lucy Bronze began, "tell us a bit about yourself. How did you end up here in England?" She said as she took a bite out of her meal

You leaned back in your chair, ready to share your story. "Well, I grew up in Japan and football has been a huge part of my life since I was a kid. I played for Kawasaki Frontale for a since I was 13 and always dreamt of representing my country. But that never happened, they kept rejecting me." You said sadly, the trio couldn't help but feel for you. Playing for England was big for them and if that got rejected constantly it would hurt. You then smiled "And it was Serena Wiegman who saw me playing one day, She was in Japan and saw me during a match and gave me the opportunity to join the England Men's team. She went out of her way for me and I couldn't be more grateful to her." You smile before you take a bite out of your meal

Keira Walsh nodded in understanding. "That's impressive. It takes a lot of determination to leave your home country and start fresh. And for Serena to go out of her way for ya says a lot about what she thinks you. We're glad you're here." You smile at Keira who smiles back. Bethany England added, "And you're going to learn a lot from the coaching staff here. Our training is intense, but it's what has made us successful."

You gave a cheeky smirk. "If the training wasn't intense and didn't push me to my limit then I wouldn't be here" Lucy gave a light laugh at your change of demeanour as Beth looked Keira and gave her a look saying 'Lucy is going to love this guy' To which Keira nodded back "That's the attitude Youngblood" You chuckle, You were glad at the trio looking after you and couldn't but like the new nickname Bronze seemed to have give you.

Bethany England leaned forward, her curiosity showing on her face. "F/N, what did your parents think about you leaving Japan and coming all the way to England? It must be hard being away from them"

The question caught you off guard and you felt a pang of anxiety. You hadn't shared your orphan background with them yet and you weren't sure how to respond. You never like to talk about it or people asking you about them in interviews. Your mind raced, trying to come up with a plausible explanation that wouldn't reveal your painful past.

But just as you were about to stammer out a response, a strong hand landed on your shoulder. You turned to see Millie Bright, a tall and confident giant of a defender, offering a warm smile. She leaned in to speak, introducing herself to you.

"Hi, I'm Millie Bright and this is Rachel Daly. We couldn't help but couldn't this welcoming party" she said with a friendly tone, effectively shifting the focus away from the question about your parents.

Rachel Daly, Millie's Best Friend, extended her hand to you with a friendly grin. "Nice to meet you, F/N." You eagerly shook her hand before shaking Daly's hand. However, Lucy Bronze, who had noticed your hesitation earlier, couldn't help but keep an observant eye on the situation. She had sensed there was more to the story, but out of respect, she chose to let the matter drop, at least for now. She decided to get up and walk around the table towards you, She grinned and playfully ruffled your hair a move that caught you off guard. "Well, F/N, it's been a pleasure getting to know you. Enjoy your time with our lovely Millie here. She's the best at making sure our 'Child' is well taken care of."

Millie Bright, "Yeah Yeah, you three better have been on your best behaviour whilst with F/N. We can't have you being a bad influence on our new 'son' here." She gestured to herself and Daly. You were thrown off by the comment but recovered with chuckle understanding the English banter. "Come on son" She would say dramatically as she throw her tattooed arm over your shoulders and guided you away from the group.

As you walked alongside Millie, you couldn't help but notice the warmth and friendliness that radiated from her. Her easygoing demeaner put you at ease and you quickly felt a sense of comfort in her presence. Millie, with a playful twinkle in her eye, began to strike up a conversation. "So, F/N, tell me a bit more about yourself. What are your hobbies or interests outside of football? I want to learn more about ya"

You welcomed the chance to talk more about yourself and opened up to Millie. "Well, besides football, I enjoy golf ,reading and playing games. It's a great way to unwind and take my mind off things. What about you? Any interesting hobbies or hidden talents?" You say interested in her thoughts

"Oh, I can definitely hold my own in a game of darts, Painting and I make a mean lasagne. You'll have to come over sometime, and me and my other half will cook up a feast for you." You smile at her, surprised at her welcomes "You could bring your partner with you too" She nudged you "Oh no I don't have a partner. That too much hassle for me" You say nervously. It was true, trying to manage a football career and relationship seemed a lot of work, Millie would give you a surprised look, she assumed you would have a partner by your looks "But I'd love that. Thanks, Millie. And it's been great getting to know you and the rest of the team. I was a bit nervous at first, but you've all made me feel so welcome."

Millie patted your back reassuringly, You tried to not be sent to the floor by her strength. "We're like a big, sometimes chaotic, but always supportive family. You'll fit right in, F/N. Plus, you've got a great sense of humour. That makes you alright in my books"

"Ah so this is where the 'son' thing came from" Millie looked at you with a proud face "Oh you see, Young one , You're now officially part of the family. And that means you have no choice but to accept me and Rachel as your 'football moms.' You're stuck with us now." You couldn't help but smile at her. You felt a emotion that was foreign to you. To hear someone call you 'son' even if it was a joke made you emotional but you kept strong

"I wouldn't have it any other way mother dearest" You say to Millie who responded with a cackle as she ruffled your hair "Good Lad" When you reached your room and it was time to say goodbye, Millie's demeaner grew more serious. She took your phone and added her WhatsApp number, ensuring that you had a direct line to her. You was bamboozled at her actions as you stood there confused as she done it

She looked you in the eye, her tone sincere. "F/N, even though we've just met, I want you to know that you can reach out to me anytime if you need anything or if something comes up. I've got your back and that goes for both on and off the pitch." Her protectiveness and genuine concern touched you deeply. You nodded "Thank you, Millie. I really appreciate it. I'm looking forward to being a part of this football family" You say with heart as Millie smirked "Good night my child" She would say in a mock voice. "Good night mother dearest" With a warm smile, you say and watched as she headed back down the hall way.

As you entered your room, You saw a figure standing there. It was your roommate and new teammate. "hello there" You say hoping they heard you. The man turned around at you and looked you up and down. " Hey" You smiled faltered, One he didn't reply with 'General Kenobi' and two he clearly had no interest in you. You walked up and stuck out your hand "My name is F/N L/N. I hope we get to know each other more and get game time together" You say in hopes you misread his emotions. "Nice to meet you, My name is Jordan Sancho" but there was a clear disconnect in his demeaner. It was as if he was putting on a façade of politeness "Well Jordan "I'm looking forward to getting to know you and working together on the team," you said, slightly repeating what you said earlier, hoping to break through the icy atmosphere. Jordan simply nodded in response and the room fell into an awkward silence. It was clear that there was something more going on with him and you couldn't help but wonder what might be causing this behaviour. The awkwardness in your shared room with Jordan seemed to stay as small talk was made sporadically but without much enthusiasm. You couldn't help but feel the tension and it was evident that he had reservations about your presence.

The following morning, it was time for a team meeting with the England Men's team. As you entered the meeting room, many of your new teammates greeted you warmly, and the captain, Harry Kane, offered a friendly handshake and a welcoming smile. However, it was Phil Foden, Kyle Walker, and Jack Grealish who stood out. They not only greeted you but also invited you to sit with them. Their eagerness to welcome you was palpable and it helped to ease some of the tension that had lingered since your arrival.

Phil Foden leaned over with a grin. "Hey, F/N right? we saved you a spot right here." You smiled thankfully as you sat next to the city trio.

"How you finding it?, settling in alright?" Walker would ask making you feel at ease "Its a lot, I wont lie but I'm happy to be here and play for England" you said with determination, Receiving a pat from Walker. "That's the spirit lad". You notice Jack Grealish offered you a warm handshake. Which you shook with a firm grip "Mate, it's great to have you here. Need anything we are your boys. What you say we go get a bevvie later?"

"A what?" You would say confused "A buvvie?" You say. You may have had great English speaking skills but lacked on slang, Foden noticing your confusion laughed "He meant like a beer or any alcoholic drink" You gave a noticeable "Oooooh" Scratching the back of your head in embarrassment "Sorry I'm not fully caught up on the slang here" You felt a pat from Walker "Don't worry lad, we can teach you all you need to know. But you have great English though" He said with surprise "Well I home schooled with a one of the Guardians at the orphanage who also had a accent which is why I sound like I'm from here." The trio nodded but then Jack spoke up "Orphanage?" You stutter, you slipped up. You started to feel the stares from the trio and those overhearing the conversation.

"Ok, everyone sit down" Thankfully Southgate entered the room to start the talk to the group, Making the trio forget and focus on him. As he began his presentation, he took a moment to introduce you to the squad. However, his introduction was laced with bitterness, making it clear that he believed your presence was primarily due to Serena Wiegman's influence. "Here with us, we have F/N," Southgate began, his tone sharp and a touch resentful. "He's joined the squad for this international break, and it's no secret that he's here largely because of Serena's insistence. As a result, he'll be replacing Marcus Rashford for these matches." Is he fucking serious? You thought as you then notice how silent the room was and you couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. The weight of being seen as a replacement for a another player who had been and the implication that you owed your presence to someone else that wasn't even Gareth's choice was palpable.

However, Phil Foden, sitting next to you, reached out and patted your shoulder in a gesture of support. He didn't say anything, but his reassuring touch and understanding gaze conveyed that you were not alone in this moment. You glanced and saw that Kyle and Jack were also looking at everyone who were looking at you. Southgate quickly moved on to discuss the details of the upcoming matches. Netherlands, Northern Ireland and Germany. But the tension in the room remained and you couldn't help but feel the weight of expectations and doubts hanging over you just doubled.

Later in training you made it your mission to prove to them that you weren't just here due to Serena's backing but your skill. You impressed Kane, Foden and sterling with your shooting and dribble skills. Kyle and Saka would be paired up with you for 3 v 3 which let you build a friendship, trustfulness and learn how they play.

You received the ball from Saka and was about to lob the ball over Kane as you saw Walker running behind but then you found yourself landing on you upper back as you felt something shoot through your right foot. You knew someone just two footed you but the thought of it happening in training was disgusting to you. You looked up and stood up to see it was Harry Maguire. You pushed the larger man nearly sending him on his ass. "What the fuck was that Maguire! That was reckless as fuck!" The man regained his posture and glared again "I don't care who you are, L/N. you've got to earn your place here. If you can't handle a challenge like that, you won't make it." He said before walking away. Despite Kyle and Saka checking on you and Harry clearly getting a talking down to from Kane you knew what you was gonna do

"Earn my place you say? alright" you mumble to yourself

After the intense exchange with Harry Maguire, you were determined to prove yourself and demonstrate your resilience. He had clearly underestimated your ability and resolve, and you were not about to let his challenge go unanswered.

The first attempt to get past Maguire was a spectacular nutmeg that left him dumbfounded and you calmly slotted the ball into the net. The laughter and applause from your teammates resonated across the field.

For the second attempt, you displayed your dribbling skills as you deftly maneuvered the ball around Maguire, causing him to lose his balance and fall on his ass like a baby. Once again, you found the back of the net with precision and can feel the anger radiating off Maguire.

The third attempt was the most rewarding. As Maguire attempted to shoulder barge you off the ball, you gracefully evaded his challenge, sending him tumbling into the dirt. With remarkable composure, you scored yet again and the team couldn't contain their amusement and admiration for your resilience and skill. Whilst some worried that they would need to step up their game to keep a spot on the first team.

As you were about to move to the next game, you felt a hard push you forward harshly as you heard your teammates around respond with audible woahs. You turned around with a glare and was face to face with Maguire who was fuming. "What's wrong Harry, do I have dirt on my face?" You would say making fun that he had dirt on his face from when you sent him to the ground. Before Maguire could cuss you out, Kane got in-between you two, as you two were pulled away, Kane turned to Maguire as Grealish stood on front of you in a protective manner

"Maguire!, that's enough," Kane said firmly, looking Maguire in the eye. "We're here to work together as a team, and this kind of behaviour isn't helping anyone. If this continues I will make sure you wont play the next game"

As Kane continued to address Maguire, other players began to gather around and it became clear that the incident had divided the team. Some players like Foden, Walker, Saka, Sterling, Pickford were clearly on your side, believing that you had been provoked and had demonstrated your skill in response. Others, Noticeable Manchester United players like Sancho, Shaw and non United players like Henderson were against you, showing support for Maguire.

"ENOUGH" The team was silent as they heard Southgate speak up. "BACK TO TRAINING NOW." He turned to you and walked up to you ignoring Maguire "F/N, I don't know how you train back in Japan but this place is for the most professional of footballers. Act like it. We don't need any more incidents like this." You bite your tongue back, You knew he was trying to goad you into responding but you just looked down and had to swallow your pride. He left without saying anything to Maguire. You couldn't help but feel pissed off that he turned a blind eye to Maguire's actions and choose to blame you for the entire incident but in the back of your head you knew you had to fight for Serena, You career and those who are supporting you. don't lose your head you thought. The mixed emotions of anger and hurt were mixing around in you. Anger due to the treatment from the manager and players who have it out for you and Hurt that you felt like a target to most of the team.

You would feel a hand n your shoulder and turned to see it was Kane "You ok?" He asked and you just shrugged "Been through worst" Kane would frown " I don't know what the gaffers deal is but you were not to blame there. You did what anyone would do. when I saw your name on the call up post I searched you up and you are a fantastic player and you will do great things for England. I don't see why Gareth is treating you like this but I know you will make him and the others acknowledge you once they see you on the pitch" with that he would pat you on the back and leave. You smiled happy knowing that your captain believed in you and supported you it added more fuel to the fire that was building. You couldn't wait to show them what you could do.

Later you would be doing some last minute mess around with some of the team before heading in. You were shooting against Pickford in goal when a idea came to your mind as you saw Pickford away from his line. As you kicked your toes under the ball it would glide up into the sky and float over Pickford who was left standing in awe as the ball landed in the net. Screams of approval and claps came from Jack Grealish, Phil Foden, Kyle Walker, and Declan Rice, who had all witnessed the audacious chip with delight. Kyle clapped you on the back. "That chip was a thing of beauty, mate!". Declan Rice would ruffle your hair "That was mad man, could use you at Arsenal" he would joke around.

"THATS MY BOY" You all would turn to the voice in the distance and see the women's team from afar walking along to the training facility building and saw a wild Millie bright cheering her boy. You would wave to her slightly embarrassed. You could see the faces of the other Lionesses laugh at Millie's antics with the exception of a few who were confused. You were happy that you got to show off and some of your new friends on the men's and women's team saw it. It also reminded you of what Millie said last night about if you need someone to talk too. You wanted to vent to her about the day. Sure you could with the boys and maybe Lucy, But Millie was the one straight up with you and you know you wouldn't be a burden going to her about it. And you didn't want to make Serena stressed out about it when she has to focus on a whole team.

"Looks like you pulled lad" You would hear Jack say in a cheeky tone but confusion would show on your face as you didn't understand what he was saying

Phil Foden, sitting nearby, noticed your confusion and decided to clarify. He leaned in and explained, "It means it looks like you've caught someone's attention romantically, mate."

You shook your head, a slight blush still on your cheeks and responded, "Oh, no, it's not like that. Millie and I are just friends." It was true, you had no feelings like that for Millie

Foden couldn't help but laugh at your quick dismissal of any romantic involvement. "Alright, mate, just friends it is. But Millie sure seems proud of her 'boy' over there." The group laughed as you knew this wasn't going away anytime soon.

After training you would take a shower and change, Heading down a hallway to the cafeteria until you would see Sancho, The man stopped in front of you. He didn't sugercoat his words. "Look, L/N, let's get one thing straight. We're just teammates, and I don't care for you taking Rashford's place." The words hit you like a punch to the gut. The camaraderie you had hoped to build with Sancho, seemed to have hit a major roadblock. It was a stark reminder that not everyone on the team welcomed your presence, and the feeling of isolation and negativity weighed heavily on you. The man would walk past you as you signed before running your hands through your damp hair and walk around a corner.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the approaching figure until it was too late. You accidentally collided with someone, and as they stumbled backward, you reached out instinctively to prevent them from falling. You would lock eyes with the figure. It was Alessia Russio. "Whoa, sorry about that," you quickly apologized, steadying her.

Alessia would smile sheepishly "Its alright, I wasn't looking where i was going, L/N right?" You would smile back "Yes but call me F/N. and you are Russio right?" Her smile got brighter as she would respond "Yes but you can call me Alessia" But then her face turned slight concerned noticing the slight frown on your face, "Is everything okay? You seem a bit off." You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to share your recent encounter with Jordan Sancho. But ultimately, you decided to confide in Alessia, who had shown genuine kindness.

"I had a bit of a run-in with a teammate from the men's squad," you admitted. "It's just been a rough day, and some of them aren't very welcoming." She would give you a knowing look. "Yep been there, Don't let them get to you. You're here on merit, and you have the talent to be with the national team. We all saw that lovely chip earlier" You would smile sheepishly as the words comforted you. She was right and you couldn't help but smile brightly and look into her eyes getting a clear look at them. You slowly felt like you were being hypnotised and unknowingly to you so did Alessia

*Wolf whistle* You would both snap out of it and turn to the sound

"What do we have here, then Ella?" You would turn to Mary Earp's alongside Ella Toone. Caught off guard by the duo you would then notice you were both holding each other. In a panic you would both separate and try to recompose yourself. You braced yourself, you had hoped this two United players wouldn't be like the ones from earlier Alessia quickly turned to face the two Manchester United Women's players, a friendly smile on her face. "Hey, Mary, Ella! This is F/N, This is one of the new players for the men's team. F/N, meet Mary and Ella." You smiled and stuck out your hand. "nice to meet you both"

Mary and Ella exchanged knowing glances, clearly amused by the situation. Mary was the first to shake your hand "Oh, F/N, you're fitting in quite well with the ladies, I see," Mary teased, her playful tone still very much intact. You tried to fight back the blush on your cheeks and then Ella would shake your hand "You two make a cute pair" Alessia would kick Ella as you looked down embarrassed.

Ella would play off the kick however. "AH Mary I'm falling" She would say falling to Mary who caught her "My hero" Mary would then play also "Fear not my love, i am here to protect you" She said in a mocking. Alessia was bright red "That's it" She then ran after the two down the hallway leaving you behind. You sighed in relief, The teasing made it obvious that you found her attractive and didn't want to embarrass yourself when you only just met them.

"They can be a lot sometimes. Sorry about them," You jumped at the force turning to them who would put a hand on your arm "sorry didn't mean to scare ya" In a apologetic voice. You saw it was Leah Williamson "I'm Leah." She shook your hand "F/N" You responded to her. You felt the same way when you met Kane. You felt nervous meeting the women's captain.

Leah sensed this and then shifted the conversation to the upcoming men's game against the Netherlands, showing a genuine interest in your thoughts. "So, how are you feeling about the men's game against the Netherlands?"

You appreciated her friendly demeaner and openness. "I'm feeling excited and ready. It's a great opportunity, and I'm eager to contribute to the team's performance. I'll give it my all."

Leah nodded in understanding and gave a smile. "That's the spirit. Just so you know. The squad was talking about you last night." A wave of anxiety washed over you" All good things and just know We're all behind you and we'll be cheering you on. Just remember, it's just another game of football. Enjoy it." She would pat you on the shoulder. You couldn't help but feel moved by the words she said. It really felt genuine and she wanted you to succeed. With that she began to walk away before stating "I heard you like golf, we should play sometime"

"I'm down" you would shout to her as she walked down the hall "Good lad!"

You sat there, in the stadium of light. England were beating san Marino 6 - 0 in the 67th minute. The day was filled with preparing and trying to focus. Of course there was media, Asking you how you felt and if you think you were ready for this. Also the online response was mixed. From those who thought you weren't good enough, didn't know you and of course the Rashford situation. But there was an upside, those who gave you a chance watching your clips or the interviews on the England YouTube channel drew a liking towards you an da big one was it showed you watching the Lionesses train and talking to Serena which shocked but drew interest to you, from fans loving the face you were supportive of the women's game and to people it as you trying to learn as much as you could.

Excitement coursed through your veins as you observed your teammates on the field, the crowd, each play and each goal filling you with a sense of pride. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric, with fans cheering for their team and the players demonstrating their skill and determination. Yet, alongside the excitement, there was also a twinge of restlessness. Sitting on the bench, you were eager to contribute, to step onto the field and to make a statement in the match. The desire to prove your worth and show your capabilities was a burning motivation within you. As you closely watched the game unfold, you couldn't help but mentally prepare yourself for the moment when you might be called upon to join the action. The second half played out before you and you remained focused, all the days of studying the tactics and learning from the experienced players around you lead to this

The opportunity to represent England in an international match was a dream come true and you were determined to make the most of it. Your emotions were a mix of excitement, anticipation, and readiness, as you waited for your chance to step onto the pitch and contribute to the team's success.

As the second half of the match against San Marino continued, you couldn't shake the feeling of anticipation. However, as the minutes ticked away, Southgate didn't look at you once. You were waiting for him to tell you to warm up. Anxiety built up as you wanted to burst onto the field and show everyone your worth. You knew that your fans in Japan and around the world were watching, Serena and the Lionesses were too. Why isn't he calling to you. It was the 80th minute and you could even hear the crowd close to you say

"Put the new kid on!"

"Why isn't he putting L/N"

"We want to see what he can do"

The minutes ticked down

81th minute

82th minute

83th minute

84th minute

85th minute

86th minute

87th minute

88th minute

89th minute

90th minute

*Final whistle blows*

It never came

You sat there in disbelieve as when you saw Southgate shook the opposing mangers hands you caught him smirking at you as you sat there hurting.

Part 1 End